Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/198

Rh “Listen,” I shouted straight into his ear (because of the roar). “Is she here? Where is she?”

“She? There, at the radio.”

I dashed over. There were three of them, all with receiving helmets on. And she seemed a head taller than usual, wingy, sparkling, flying like an ancient Valkyrie; the bluish sparks from the radio seemed to emanate from her—from her also that ethereal, lightning-like odor of ozone.

“Someone—well, you, for instance,” I said to her, panting from having run, “I must send a message down to earth, to the docks. Come, I shall dictate it to you.”

Close to the apparatus there was a small, box-like cabin. We sat at the table side by side. I found her hand and pressed it hard.

“Well, what is going to happen?”

“I don’t know. Do you realize how wonderful it is? To fly without knowing where no matter where? It will soon be twelve o’clock and nobody knows what And when night  Where shall you and I be tonight? Perhaps somewhere on the grass, on dry leaves ”

Blue sparks emanated from her, and the odor of lightning, and the vibration within me became more and more frequent.

“Write down,” I said loudly, panting (from having run). “Time: eleven-twenty; speed, 5,800 ”

“Last night she came to me with your note. I know I know everything; don’t talk But the child is yours. I sent her over; she is already beyond the Wall. She will live”

I was back on the commander’s bridge, back in the delirious night with its black starry sky and its dazzling sun. The hands of the clock on the table were slowly moving from minute to minute. Everything was permeated by a thin, hardly perceptible quivering (only I noticed it). For some reason a thought passed through my head: it