She opened her eyes. Ceiling of pale white. Morning sunlight. And an immediate sense of heat. To her great surprise, she had managed to fall asleep. In an old house where she had a small corner room with little space besides a single bed. The room was only as long as the bed itself and maybe twice as wide. At most.
There were five of them who had made it here. She herself, Tiina, Viivika, Johannes and Siim. A black Volga had brought them to the county limit and then returned to whence it came from. Who had been driving? She could no longer remember. Who had driven the car back? She could not remember that either. Maybe it wasn’t that important after all, as it all seemed like part of a very old yet an especially vivid dream. And yet maybe this knowledge was really of priceless value, because the locals had a completely different story with regards to the black Volga and five youths in it: how they had run it off the road killing themselves and turning the car into scrap. But this did not match her memories. Nor the memories of everyone else.
And yet there was room for claiming both statements to be true, despite being contradictory. Especially when taking into consideration everything else they had experienced. They had come to the county limit in a Volga. On foot had they traversed the sentry point with the lifting barrier boom and on foot had they reached the cottage district and found an abandoned home which suited them the best. And everyone besides her had also found recognition during their travels, maybe even a partner for life. She however felt like a fifth wheel.
At least on two separate occasions had they found themselves listening to Mariann. In the latter of these cases they had found themselves inside a black factory limousine with opposing seats, a small table and fuel economy so horrendous that it was better to just walk. And to this day, none of them had any recollection how they had found the car. Or rather, the question where they had found it was easy. The answer was – at the airfield. But they had also found themselves in there without a sliver of recollection how had the car made it there or how had they. And on that last time, with the cold and desolate rain, Siim and Johannes had simply decided to drive it off, instead of leaving it there. And now it stood parked on the street in front of their house, the fuel tank almost drained.
Kadri got up and got dressed. Long black skirt that reached the ground, long-sleeved knitted cotton top over a singlet. And black all-star sneakers. Her usual slightly goth makeup which primarily consisted of black eye shadow, because it brought out her green eyes.
She shut the door to her small bedroom and locked it.
The first thing the had done after reaching the Nameless Town was to enter the local bar and find info on possible lodging. It had taken no time at all for the bar crowd to make them understand the only three options they had: either the hotel, to stay in town and pick an unlocked apartment in one of the buildings or one of the few unoccupied private homes. Or to come here, to the cottage district for the same thing. Or to move on to Tontla or Valgepalõ where life looked a bit more normal and one could even rent of buy stuff.
The upside of the Town was that everything was nearby. The downside was that the occupied homes were only occupied because they still had working electricity and running water and were most certainly not haunted. And even if they had found a fitting house or apartment within the town limits, they still would have had to come to the cottage district for all the furniture, linen and other stuff.
The cottage district however had countless abandoned houses. Homes that people had left behind with all kinds of possessions still in place and untouched. But it also had a bad atmosphere to it, due to the Forbidden Forest right by it. And also the Underground Base and being bordered by both the Southern Forest and the Officers’ Village. In the end, comfort won, meaning they picked the house with the most suitable rooms and the most furniture present. Whatever it did not have could be collected from the nearest 4 or 5 other abandoned homes.
After a few days of sorting though items and rearranging things, it almost felt like a home. Carpets made of cloth scraps covering the floors, wooden furniture from the 60s and 70s as well as several Republic era and even Czarist era items. A simple sofa on a wooden frame that converted into a bed, two armchairs that converted into beds in a similar way and even a working radio set and a TV. While the radio could be used to listen to the radio at the Nameless Town and Allan Helde’s shows, the TV displayed nothing but static, with or without the antenna. But there was an old Japanese VHS cassette player connected to the old TV. And there were also several boxes of tapes.
The old mechanical cuckoo clock on the wall was showing the eighth morning hour. This may well have been quite near to the correct time. But it also meant that she had managed to get no more than four hours of sleep. And this wasn’t the first night of little sleep.
A few night ago she had met Mariann. She had been reading a book in her car a few streets away. Of course Mariann had only been there to watch over the Russians removing the wrecks of their choppers and true to her words, bu morning it looked like nothing had ever happened at all. And this frightened her. The very thought that while she and the others were sleeping, all kinds of things were taking place which not only left no trace of ever happening at all but also took place with them being none the wiser. That a world war could take place during their slumber, the front might move back and forth several times and the next morning there would be no remaining sign of any of it.
And there was also a sense of regret. Mariann had offered her a chance to go along with her. Or to go and take a look how the Russians were taking their crap away. Se had refused both offerings. She was been tired, maybe that had been the reason. But she did want to know more of all the things they had spoken about. And now it seemed she had lost an all-important chance for a night adventure with Mariann.
She sighed and stepped outside. The yard too finally started to look like somebody was actually living here. Still, it took time before she could step out of the shadow of the building or even direct her gaze out of it. It was simply too bright for her eyes.
When they had first reached this place, everything that needed to be done got smoothly assigned. The boys looked for construction materials and did the literal heavy lifting while the girls dealt with the interior decoration and all the other necessities like kitchenware and utensils, pots and pans, curtains, linen and other essentials. Yardwork had had more united effort. Chain-link fence was fastened to the posts once more, hedges trimmed and the trees cut back. And eventually all of them learned to effortlessly mow with a scythe. In an ironic fashion only after all that had happened, had they found an old electric mower. And then later a gasoline-powered one as well, along with plenty of spare parts.
She finally stepped out of the shadow of the house and immediately felt the sun heat up her black clothing. How was it possible for the locals to complain that the sun only gave light but no warmth, how it shone coldly as if only showing the town the reverse side of it? But the cottage district had both the scorching sun as well as suffocating hot air that refused to move. She walked down the footpath of rectangular tiles towards the street with the long black sedan.
Factory limousine, reportedly from the early 1970s, if she were to believe the boys. Four doors and three rows of seating. The black clearcoat was full of criss-crossing scratches and shined like a spiderweb against the morning sun. Metal flake in the paint had long since grown dull. She wanted to run her fingers on the paint and feel the scratches but had to immediately pull away in pain. Despite the morning and the scratches, the body of car was hot enough to cause blisters and perhaps even to fry an egg on it.
She left the car where it was and walked down the street. It was maybe ten kilometers of dusty country road to reach the town. About 90 minutes at a quick pace. She had made the journey several times before. But never in the blaze of the late morning sun. Having turned onto the street running along the strip of forest on the North side, she noticed ahead a greenish-blue sedan with sun-bleached collapsed tires which seemed to have been sitting for years.
Two young men were busying themselves around it. Siim and Johannes.
“What are you doing?” She asked, having reached the bigger of the two who had a bottle jack in his hands.
“Remember when we were in the bar with Mariann, right before the ritual to invoke the witch?” Siim asked.
“I remember.”
“Olavi and Laura came to our table. They related how they had arrived here from some other place. This car had also been at that other place. Their backpacks had been in the trunk of this car. And the key set had been in the ignition.”
“I remember.” She repeated pensively.
“This is the very place they reached when they emerged from the other place.” Johannes said, walking around the car.
Johannes was a lot more fit than Siim but also somewhat shorter. With dark blonde hair that often fell into his eyes.
“From this very same manhole on the street right behind you.”
Kadri took a look at the cast iron Soviet era manhole cover right behind her.
“From this one?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“You have taken a look under it?”
“Concrete rings which have steel rungs poured right into it. And some sort of rails on either side. And at a depth of around 2 meters there is water.”
“They climbed through the water?”
“Not quite.” Siim was faster with his response. “The spoke about walking down an underground tunnel and then climbing up a shaft. They only noticed water after emerging from the manhole and looking down. Which makes me wonder - should I climb down the rungs, will I find a massive tunnel full of water? Or maybe the water will suddenly drain and I find myself soaked but inside a dry tunnel? I should ask Mariann about this.”
“You already know what she would say.” Johannes replied. ““Why don’t you go and try.” You should also remember what she said about gates. There is no guarantee that an exit also functions as an entrance.”
“You mean to tell that traffic can be only unidirectional?” Siim asked. “They could exit here but one cannot enter from here into there?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
Siim sighed and continued removing the wheel nuts.
“What are you doing?” Kadri asked again.
“The story those two told us had at least one bit of truth to it.” Johannes said. “The car was unlocked. The keys weren’t in the ignition, but in the bin under the center console. And the battery still retained some charge. We even managed to start it up for a moment. It had quite a sweet sound to it.”
“For a moment?” She asked.
“It died as soon as we switched on the headlights. The starter clicks, but it won’t turn the engine.”
“Still.” Kadri continued. “What for?”
“That black limousine has an average fuel economy of at least 40 liters per 100. This green one should at most require only half that. Four doors, five seats. And there are five of us. And tan leather interior which won’t get nearly as hot in sunlight.”
“Mm.” She said, finally understanding.
“You’re going into town?” Siim asked.
“I was thinking about it.”
“Are you sure?” Johannes asked. “The sun seems pretty sharp today. And I wouldn’t want to walk ten clicks dressed all in black.”
“Do I have a choice?” the girl asked.
“Take the black one.”
“Some other choice.”
“I think Viivika found a green bicycle.” Johannes said.
“A bicycle?”
A bicycle seemed like a much better choice than walking ten k or risking the big vehicle running out of fuel and blocking off a narrow gravel road for days.
“Indeed.” Johannes continued. “But it is a full-size bike with no gears. Also it has road tires, which are about as wide as a thumb.”
She sighed and turned around, starting back towards the house and the big limo standing in front of it.
“The black 75?” Siim asked.
“The black 75.” She replied, defeated.
Ten k on an ungeared road bike through potholed country roads in a long skirt seemed way worse an option than driving. And Johannes was right. The sun was sharp indeed, even if she had had clothing of lighter colors, walking to town would have still been a challenge. In all black it was even bigger one. And she had no mood for any lighter colors.
Luckily, compared to the black surfaces, the chrome felt slightly cooler. She opened the unlocked driver door and sat on the hot velour of navy color. The keys were in the ignition and one pedal pump before turning it was enough for the engine to stay running after firing up and rocking the whole front of the car in the process.
Besides the abysmal fuel economy this big thing had a few other problems. First of all the size of it. For Kadri it was utterly inconceivable that these could be driven on roads originally projected for Sapaks. Comparing these to oil tankers when maneuvering was no exaggeration. And Mariann would drive her red one to just about anywhere. And her red one was not too much shorter than this one, or was it?
The other problem was much more urgent. The less fuel the car had, the more the fuel gauge lied. Anything below one-eighth and the needle rested on the peg near the E, whether the tank was dry or not. And then there were all other problems with regards to keeping a carbed engine in running order.
Driving a big vehicle like this immediately allowed one to get a sense of how roads were planned in this area. The usual road from the town to the cottage district was a country road which ended at the base to the West. It jutted down towards the South with the Forbidden Forest on the left and overgrown fields on the right as a narrow one-lane gravel road. With the ditch on the side with the forest and access roads to the old fields on the other side. Between the wheel tracks there ran a strip of grass. Had there not been any old roads leading to the fields or into the forest, there would have been little chances for two opposing drivers to pass one another. A few kilometers nearer to the town, about where the old Death Fields started, the road got wider and also gained a bumpy and potholed pavement.
But the real road to the bases passed through the cottage district. Along the wide street running along that strip of forest which hid a rail road within. The very same street on the side of which stood that green sedan on which the boys were working. And opposite the forest were the side streets of the cottage district. The lesser importance the road had, the narrower it was. Some were so narrow and so overgrown that turning into them even with a normal-sized car involved uprooting some hedges. And the houses were so close to the streets than one could at most fit half a car in front a house.
An an interesting coincidence, the house they had decided upon was quite near to the secret railroad. It stood right on this wide street passing through the cottage district, being the first or second in line when coming from the bases. But the wide street itself was as straight as an arrow, passing right through the edge of the cottage district and through the center of the Officers’ Village. Where it ended up or continued on the other side of that, she could not tell. Nobody could. In a strange fashion, all traffic to the cottage district traversed from this side and the Officers’ Village was avoided almost in a subconscious manner. As if it was a home for wandering forest fauna or perhaps altogether more terrible monsters.
But now, sitting behind the wheel, she could not bring up a single reason for fearing the officers’ village. However she still felt an urge to refrain from going there. As if some unnamable threat was there, lying in wait for her. She did not want to give it any more thought. She only wanted to make it into town. On the one hand, she expected to find fresh fruit or vegetables and on the other hand, a much more urgent problem, to either find a job to fuel this beast or some other useful activity until evening came and the heat receded.
*
The whole trip to town was nerve-wracking. The big car rolling from pothole to pothole on the gravel road, the suspension collapsing into each one of them despite her rolling down the road at essentially idle engine speed. And when she finally made it to the pavement, she still had to mind the engine speed. All this allowed her to make it to town before the car ran out of gas, or rather by the very moment it ran out, as the engine died a few meters after turning onto the main street of the Nameless Town.
Along with the engine she also lost power steering and power brakes so it was quite an effort for her to get it onto the side of the road and stop it. At least the side of the street was not full of cars, and she could pretty much leave it where it stopped. She did her best, but in the end, the car was still slightly askew, rather than perfectly parallel to the street. But this was something she could no longer help. She had turned the steering to the right and the front tire was against the curb, so there was little chance of it rolling anywhere further.
After making sure she could leave the car like this she locked the doors and… noticed that something was different. Ahead, on the other side of Cemetery Flight street, right past the old main building of the Institute and opposite the Physics park, a market had popped up. At first she could only see a large plywood board with black capital letters painted onto it. However ash she got closer she saw that there were five or six small wooden stalls and a sun yellow LAZ bus, its whole side was opened up like a clam shell which created one big stall.
Fruit and vegetable, sweet and salty, dried and smoked meat, fish, sausages and even cheese. Also all sorts of other goods and toiletry. Some of this could still be found from the various abandoned homes in town and in the cottage district and for the other kind it was better to drive to Valgepalõ. But the most valuable goods were on the metal stalls made of the side of the old bus. All sorts of household batteries, watches both quartz and hand wound. Jewelry, transistor radios and cassette players and all sorts of headphones.
Behind the stall stood a man with unkempt mustache and a weaselly look to him. His gaze immediately clued in to Kadri as she took a gander of the wares laid out, paying little attention to other customers.
Her gazed moved across everything until it suddenly stopped on something familiar. A round object, the top caver made of brushed aluminum. Onto it etched MP3-CD.
“Has the lady found something of interest to her?” The gaunt man behind the counter asked.
Messy hair of straw color, long dirty mustache covering the whole upper lip, short-sleeved linen shirt and bleached once dark cotton pants. Sharp nose, dark eyes, somewhat sunken in cheeks.
“Does this even work?” Kadri asked, pointing at the CD-player.
“Of course it does.” the man said. “The batteries are already in it. The disc as well. Give it a try!”
With much care, she took the CD-player from the table. The first thing she did was to turn it over and check the battery compartment to make sure it was indeed filled. She then opened the cover to see a burnt CD-R disc inside. She started it and put the in-ear headphones on. The device took some time to find the tracks on the disc, but when it finally did… the music she heard… There was no way to describe it.
She could not. There was something familiar to it and yet she could not remember it. There was something nostalgic about it and yet it was new to her. Something so strange and yet so natural. It hit her like a flash of light, like waking up from a dream. But she was still here, in front of the ripped apart yellow bus. She could feel tears run down her cheeks. She moved her finger to advance to the next track, but before that the device was ripped from her hands. The headphones came out of her ears and the music instantly became a memory of which she could only remember a profound sense of loss.
“This should be enough to be sure that it works.” The man behind the counter said.
“How much?” She asked.
“For you special price, five hundred kroons. I’ll even add the headphones for no charge at all.” He gave an insincere smile.
“I’ll think about it.” Kadri replied.
“I get it.” The weaselly man replied. “Five hundred kroons is a lot. Not many people have this kind of money in their pocket. But I am also willing to take trades, both goods and… services.”
“For a moment Kadri found herself considering whether what the man had meant as ‘services’ was worth the player, the batteries, the headphones, the disc and the feeling the music evoked in her. But before she could decide one way or another, the man said something else which stopped her thinking.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I saw what the lady arrived into town with. I willing to trade the player for that.”
She looked back towards the street, on which she had left the big black limousine. The thought of having that man inside her in exchange for the player quickly turned from a difficult choice into something errant and unthinkable.
“I… I cannot.” She said. “it is not mine.”
“In that case, 500 kroons.” The man said with indifference.
“How long will you be in town?” She asked.
“Until tomorrow. We’ll be moving South after that.”
“Copy.”
For a few moments more, her gaze lingered on the CD-player, but she then managed to tear her mind off of it. She turned around and left, now walking back towards the car. Her urgent problems had suddenly multiplied. Before all this she had had a desire to find something to eat that wasn’t in need of adding time, hot water and salt. But also gasoline to get this big boat moving again. But now she also needed to find 500 kroons. It did not sound like a big sum, but at the same time she had no idea how much work it required to collect this money. Could she even manage it by tomorrow? Before the market packed up and left? How much was fuel on top of that? Was prostitution really the only viable solution to earn anything at all? She refused to believe this.
There were other people living here, weren’t they? They too went to the store when in need of food. If they had nothing else to do then at the very least they could spend time day drinking. The money had to come from somewhere. Vodka had to come from somewhere. So did gasoline and parts for all those non-Russian cars. Where did it all come from?
Or did the people wake up every morning as usual, and their wallets, emptied out the previous night, were now once again full bills bearing the image of C. R. Jakobson and freshly minted silver dollars? She could only give a sigh. It did not sound too believable. And at the same time it sounded a lot more believable than a few other options.
At this very moment, she stumbled upon something. Literally, as her hands stopped her face from planting on a hot steel surface. A big red car with the top down, metal flake under the flawless clearcoat shining in the morning sun. A red leather interior and a white canvas top folded down behind the rear seats. Mariann’s car. Mariann was here.
She raised her head. She was no longer on the same street. While in her thoughts she had made it down the street of Cemetery Flight onto the Southern street running in parallel to the main street on which most of the rest of the town lived. A street the name of which had long since fallen into obscurity, but on which stood the Medical Corps of the Institute, the city hall, the radio station and also Leopold’s bar. Near which Kadri was now standing.
The tall glass windows were dirty and covered with heavy drapes on the inside. There was no movement to these whatsoever. Without Mariann’s car right by the door once could have easily reached the conclusion that like most of the town, this place too was just a remnant of some forgotten heydays. It may have still been the case, until she actually tried to door and stepped inside.
To her surprise, the door opened and she stepped into a small entryway with another door before her. She pushed open the inner door and finally stepped into a shadowy pub full of dark wooden tones. Right ahead was the pub counter while on her right hand there was a large room with tables and chairs and at the far end of it she could even see a small stage with a covered drum set.
There weren’t too many people in the bar. Most of them were sitting at the smaller tables for two which stood in line at the tall windows facing street side. As for the rest, the tables nearer to the counter seemed to be the ones with more people around them. Behind the counter a portly barkeep was busying himself. By the look of it he was in his late fifties or early sixties. And in this dinghy bar, he was just about the most impeccably dressed man. A white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest and a white apron covering pleated black pants. As he turned, Kadri noticed that he was wearing glasses, with one of the lens opaque black.
Only one of the stools at the counter was occupied. And on that one there was an instantly familiar body sitting, or rather lying down. Lower body sitting on the stool while her upper body was comfortably flat on the counter.
“Mariann?” Kadri asked.
“She’s asleep.” a thin young man from the window-side table said.
“Asleep?”
“I think since four o’clock.” The barkeep said grumpily, trying to keep his voice down.
“Why hasn’t anybody wakened her?”
“You must be new in town.” The thin man from the window-side table said. “To wake a girl in black if you have no business… nobody’s gonna take that risk.”
“What would you like?” the barkeep asked Kadri.
“I don’t have any..,”
“Girls in black don’t have to pay.” the Barkeep said, giving a deep sigh. It was obvious how much he hated saying this.
For a moment Kadri paused and mused over the man’s words, finally giving up on her pointless struggle.
“A coffee please. With milk.”
She sat onto the stool right beside Mariann and only then saw that the girl next to her was indeed sleeping. Left hand resting in the inner crease of the elbow, right hand stretched straight across the bar counter and head resting on said arm.
Kadri took another look around the bar, but there was still one question in her mind that did not allow her to focus.
“Why do girls in black not have to pay?” She asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” the young man from the window asked again.
“I don’t think I am.” Kadri replied.
“Maybe it is better if she explains it to you.” the Barkeep said, looking at Mariann.
Kadri gently pulled the hair off Mariann’s face. Her closed eyes and low breathing indicated that she was still asleep.
“There are only three options.” The man from the table started talking once more. “You are either insane, truly a stranger in town or the girl in black herself.”
“Why?” Kadri asked.
“Because you ordered coffee while shes sleeping in the bar. You’re the first one who dares to order coffee today.”
“Rops!” The barkeep said in a threatening tone.
Hearing that, the young man fell silent and gave up on any further attempts to talk to Kadri.
Soon, the Barkeep placed a saucer and a cup of coffee in front of her along with a small pitcher of milk.
“Hey.” Mariann said in a quiet voice, using her right hand to pull hair off her face. “You ordered coffee?”
She stretched out her arm and without even having to look at it, her index finger found the Barkeep.
“Get me one too. Black. In my usual mug.”
Mariann’s sudden voice made the barkeep flinch.
Kadri poured in the milk leaving the level only a few millimeters off the crest of the cup and then started to slowly stir it.
“Why don’t girls in black pay for their drinks?” She asked.
“They do.” Mariann replied. “When they feel like it. And in many of the cases they pay with non-monetary means. Some of the thoughts which come to me late at night are more valuable than any amount of money one can produce.”
“Why does nobody order coffee when you’re sleeping in the bar?”
“Because the smell of coffee wakes me up right away.” Mariann replied. “Are you out of questions?”
Kadri said nothing, only gave a small shake of her head.
“Can these wait until I’ve had my coffee as well?” She asked. “Otherwise we’re talking from two very unequal positions.”
Kadri gave a small nod before sipping her coffee and milk.
Mariann was... strange. There was no other word to use for her. She was the very same as the Nameless Town. The vary same as the Lost County. Some kind of geographical area crystallized into a physical humanoid embodiment. A kind of spirit concentrated to a level it could stand for itself. To contemplate on the nature of itself and others. How else would one describe a person who was at home just about everywhere. While sleeping right here in the bar or reading in a car during a hot night. But also when wandering some forgotten military installation or when sitting in a haunted library at night, deciding which tomes were valuable documents and which were scrap paper. Even in the forest at night, if some stories were to be believed.
One one hand it seemed completely alien to Kadri and on the other hand… perhaps it was even something to aspire towards. To ruminate on whatever is going on, whatever has happened but also history. Something simple and yet insurmountably complicated. A question unto it’s very own was how had Mariann managed to cultivate the aura that was surrounding her. Simultaneously salt of the earth but also a space alien who has not yet revealed her gray skin.
And then there was that subtle shun that people held towards her.
Kadri had managed to drink half of her milk coffee by the time Barkeep had finished making a fresh pot. He set a giant saucer and even bigger cup right before Mariann. If Kadri’s cup was of regular size then Mariann’s was at least twice if not thrice at big. But to Mariann it seemed only too normal.
“You had more questions.” She said right after her first sip.
“Can you spare me five hundred kroons?” Kadri asked.
“I can.” Mariann said. “What for?”
“At the market there is a guy selling a CD-player.”
“The one with the yellow bus?” Mariann asked. “About my height, really thin, mustached, looks older than one might think?”
“Yeah, him.”
Mariann gave a knowledgeable smile. “That’s not his first time in this village. Also not his first time to peddle his wares. If I were you I would not get too excited about his goods.”
“Why is that?”
“Because in some sense it could be considered fraud. From his position however it would be merely an omission.”
Mariann fell silent, contemplatively sipping her big cup of black coffee. While Kadri was impatient for her to continue her tale. Mariann only smiled, as if knowing was she was being expected of.
“He only allowed you to hear the first track, correct? It astonished you, didn’t it?”
A strange feeling came over Kadri as she stared at the girl next to her. But then, intead of a barrage of questions, she only gave a nod.
“I know why.” Mariann said. “How can you ascertain that the device played the file format you expect it to play? That the disc really has a hundred tracks instead of just twelve?”
“I don’t know.” Kadri said.
She wasn’t disappointed, but at the same time she truly had not considered this. But now it seemed to make a great deal of sense, considering that the man had not allowed her to hear more than the first track.
“The other aspect of the omission is way more interesting though.” Mariann continued, having swirled the coffee in her cup for a bit. “Have you ever thought why everything here is so… old? Old cars, old radios, valves more often than transistors and tape drives rather than micro-electronics you are so familiar with. That CD-player the guy is selling is obviously not as old as everything else.”
“Poor country-folk can’t afford to buy new things?” Kadri asked. “The old folk have ways they are accustomed to and see no reason for anything novel?”
“These are good offers but not quite it.” Mariann replied. “One of them is better though than the other. During the Soviet era, people lived in constant stagnation. Life changed surprisingly little in forty years. It did not change at all in any ten years. In ten years you could finally purchase the same car, your parents started collecting for a decade earlier. It was entirely possible people had no idea they lived in stagnation. It is possible they don’t understand it in here either. Days pass and roll into the night but life never changes. But this is just an errant thought and not the reason.”
“What would be then?” Kadri asked.
“The world itself.” Mariann said. “I cannot explain you what the exact reasons are. Transient electromagnetic anomalies, radiological anomalies. Weather phenomena. Anomalies of the space-time topology. A certain amount on anemoia perhaps? These are all prudent words, but don’t really help us to signify the reason. But a fact remains that from some level fineness, electronics start to fail and may completely cease to function. Some temporarily, others permanently. Data is lost and batteries, even rechargeable ones, get emptied in mysterious ways.
“If you don’t believe me, go take a lot at Peeter’s scrap yard. There have been quite a few bands arriving from Glass Town in angular cars that look as if torn out of the future. And none can be started. Charged batteries which can easily start older cars, can’t illuminate a single light in the newer ones, never mind turning the engine. And if one starts such a car by pulling it, then the electronics can’t keep them running as if the fuel tables have all been wiped from the memory chips.”
“So why don’t older cars have this problem?” Kadri asked.
“Because the older ones are all mostly mechanical. Carburetors, engine vacuum, oil pressure and lots of wires for all the lights.”
“I did not mean as old as those.” Kadri replied. “I mean the one standing at the side of the road in the cottage district.”
“Oh, those.” Mariann gave a small smile. “These do indeed have electronics. But the traces on various PCBs are also wider so they are either less affected or not affected at all.”
“Aren’t optical discs also free of electronics?” Kadri asked. “They are burned with a laser and read with a laser. Laser burns holes of different sizes into the plastic which alter reflectivity and thus the data is recorded.”
“That is true.” Mariann said. “But electronics are there to turn those reflected laser beams into music. Or some other kind of information.”
Kadri sighed, emptying her cup. “So in your opinion, there is no point in buying that?”
“Nope. Suppose you buy it. Let’s suppose you even manage to find more batteries to fuel it. Even if you use it sparingly, there is a danger that one day it will no longer work. Either because the batteries are empty or there is a transient anomaly interfering with it’s function or some other stronger anomaly has damaged it beyond repair.”
“Okay.” Kadri said pensively. “But I still have to hear that music again. And the guy said that he is willing to take trades. And the thing I could give is not up to me and what he wants to get, I don’t want to give.”
“Neither of these is a good option.” Said Mariann. “He asked for the factory limo, did he not?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know yet. It is out of fuel. But at the same tine I don’t have too many choices.”
“Do you need a car that doesn’t drive? Do you want to fill it with fuel?”
“No.”
“Then leave the keys in the ignition or behind the sun visor and the doors unlocked. Maybe somebody else will come who finds a need for it. Or maybe you do at some point and then it is good to have it available.”
“And should somebody steal it?” Kadri asked.
“Is it yours?” Mariann asked.
Kadri shook her head.
“Do you know whose it is?” Mariann continued. “Why are you worried then? You borrowed it when you needed it, now let somebody else borrow it. Isn’t that the same method you and your friends initially used to get here?”
Kadri did not reply, only stared at her empty cup.
“Also, the locals don’t know cars too well. Every kind of huge passenger car may belong to the Boys from the North. Or perhaps to those other officials who are even more peculiar. Nobody who does not need it, will touch it. Not even Peter who usually collects unused cars and brings them to his scrap yard, until somebody comes to collect them or to look for parts.”
“You said you could give me the money.” Kadri said. “What do I need to do for it?”
Mariann smiled and finished his large cup of coffee.
“Let’s go.”
Kadri got up from the bar stool and gave one last glace at the counter. Mariann hadn’t indeed left anything on the counter. No bills, no coins. And the barkeep on the other side of the counter was not the least bit bothered by this. He wasn’t also bothered about Mariann waiting for Kadri and holding both doors open, letting bright sunlight into the bar. She finally followed the girl and together they stepped out of the bar.
“Hey, Leopld...” Rops started when the bar door had closed once again.
“Rops, go fuck yourself!” Leopold said in response.
*
“Where are we going?” Kadri asked as she followed Mariann down the street.
“Not far.”
It was clear that Mariann was heading towards her red open top machine. But Kadri was wrong. Mariann was walking towards it but she did not get in, she didn’t even stop by it, instead, she passed the rear of it, running her fingers along the sharp crease that ended with a cathedral tail light. She cut diagonally across the street and stopped on a broken sidewalk right next to a tall plank painted earthen yellow.
She ran her hand on the boards of the fence and finally found a hidden door which opened to the inside. She pushed it open and revealed to Kadri an overgrown shadowy yard around a Soviet era summer cottage. To the left there was a tall shed with dark wooden walls, roof of zinc steel glistening in the sun. To the right, there was a one-story flat-roofed cottage. Some of the walls of the cottage were of pale brick, others were of yellow boards a shade cooler than the fence. The edges of the roof and the eaves overhangs were of the same wooden boards.
The tall grass was almost to Kadri’s hips and the overgrown fruit trees created a plenty of shadows in which she could feel even some cool streams of air. It also wasn’t nearly as hot as it was on the street in town or in the cottage district. There was a foot path made of huge concrete slabs about a meter in width which led to the shed, the cottage as well as the hidden gate in the tall fence. The yard seemed to be surrounded by tall hedges on several sides, but otherwise it was impossible to understand where the borders of the plot may have been.
“You live here?” Kadri asked.
“Not quite.” Mariann said.
With no hesitation in her movements, she found the key under a flower pot on the stoop and unlocked the cottage. It looked like a pretty run of the mill cottage built in the late 70s or early 80s, still retaining the originally allowed area and floor plan. Only the front veranda had two walls with large glass windows added and thus converted into a large sun room.
And despite the huge built-in cupboard covering the whole living room wall, the cloth armchairs with lacquered wooden armrests and a coffee table true to the era, there were no signs of habitation. It rather looked like nobody had lived here for years and the whole interior was instead being curated. An attempt to take the best care to maintain the signs of somebody else’s past habitation.
“If you don’t live here then...”
“I can’t really say that I live anywhere.” Mariann replied. “I have lots of things spread out everywhere. Some here, some in the underground base, some in the cottage district. Some even in agroprom.”
“So this place here is…?”
“My dark room. Make yourself comfortable, I need to go and get a few things.”
Mariann disappeared somewhere right of the kitchen in front of them and Kadri was left alone in the living room. There was a large glass window right in front of her which let in a lot of light and from which the overgrown front yard could be seen. Opposite the window, there was a small bedroom which shared a wall and with the kitchen. Into this wall the kitchen stove and the chimney were built. This bedroom was not too dissimilar to the one she was sleeping in. Minus the heated wall. A room big enough only for the bed and to get in and out of said bed.
“I have a job for you.” Mariann said as she returned to the living room. “Or rather there are two jobs that overlap. Previously, I’ve taken photographs of various interesting locations in this area. And somebody has heard about this. Somebody in Valgepalõ want to make an album of such photos. And although there are plenty of people skilled in photography across the three towns, there aren’t too many who would dare to set their foot in some of the required locations. This would be one job.”
“And the other?” Kadri asked.
“I need various locations photographed as well. For my own purposes. But on one hand, I don’t have the time, and on the other hand, I don’t really feel like doing this any more. Essentially it just doing a lot of driving back and forth within Lost County. To me, this is as boring as death by now. But for you, as the first assignment, this would be perfect, I think.”
“First assignment?” Kadri asked in a suspecting tone. “What do you mean by that?”
“Come.”
Mariann guided her through the kitchen and into the side room. This seemed to be a repurposed garage. There seemed to be yet another room behind it and Kadri could only guess it the dark room. But here there was desk in the middle of the room and lots of metal shelving. The metal shelves were full of hardcover binders probably filled with various photos and negatives. On a table sat an old camera made of silvery metal, partially exposed from its leather case. There were also a couple of old thin notebooks, a small nondescript book and boxes full of unused photography film.
“I mean exactly what I mean. Remember our night time conversation? This here is your best bet to continue in this field. To look into the world and research what is going on while everybody else are merely trying to live in it. Or...”
“Or..?” Kadri asked with a wary tone.
“Or I give you the 500 kroons you wanted, but you will never ever again come to bother me with work.”
“The things you want me to photograph… these aren’t anything dangerous or something like classified state secrets?” Kadri asked.
“Nothing like it. Totally annoying and bore of an activity. But the locals have been frightened by either history or folklore to such a degree and captured by prejudice that they actively fear these places. Some time ago I had more willingness to deal with this, but right now I have more urgent problems.”
“I only have to take pictures, right? Not develop them? Because I haven’t done my own developing for a long time now and I can’t even remember how to do it properly.”
“You only need to take the pictures. I can handle developing them.”
“Okay then.” Kadri took a deep breath and took another look at everything on the table. “I’ll do it. For five hundred kroons.”
“Very good.” Mariann gave a smile. “Here’s your equipment. 35mm Canon analog camera, top of the line circa 1960s. Ten rolls of film, a separate light meter and a guide book on metering light, although I don’t think you’ll find much use for it. And these two small notebooks. One of these contains the list of items the customer wants to be photographed and the other one contains the locations I want photographed. I sorted them out based on distance, should I want to deal with it myself. Of course you can go rogue if you want. There are things to be photographed which are not necessarily on either of the two lists.”
Kadri open one of the two notebooks to take a glance. Mariann’s handwriting was a lot more elegant and artistic than she had expected. Perfectly readable with three clear levels and all letters tied to one another. Nothing exaggerated or decadently stretched towards the vertical.
The first few pages contained locations that mostly resided within the town itself. The Institute, the Town Hall. The school, the church. The radio tower and other such stuff. It was interesting that although she knew about all these locations, at the same time she had never had the interest of visiting any of these places on her own. To just go to these places and look at them like tourism sites. As if her whole presence here only centered around the black factory limo and the cottage district. And this felt weird. Especially now that she could distance herself from it and give it the slightest bit of thought.
In any case, it was well worth doing it, even if Mariann had not promised her money. Which reminded her something.
“Hey!”
She heard the Mariann’s voice and turned towards her only to be blinded bu the flash gun. After her eyesight recovered, she could see Mariann hold another camera, as if ready for another photo.
“What was that!?” She asked, annoyed.
“That was the “before” picture.” Mariann said with a queer smile.
“The ‘before’ picture? When are you going to take the ‘after’ picture?”
“After you have finished the job.”
“Is this something like those photos of young soldiers before and after their stint on the front?” Kadri asked. “How a young soldier ages by fifteen years in just three?”
“Not quite.” Mariann said. “This assignment will not take you three years. And the stress level is also not comparable. But still, there will be a clear difference between the ‘before’ and ‘after’ photos.”
Kadri sighed, not wanting to continue this avenue of discussion. She tried to recollect where she had been with her thought before Mariann so rudely had derailed that train.
“Is the reason you’re using analog film the same reason you explained to me in the bar?” She asked.
“Partially yes. Digital single reflex cameras experience similar anomalies here as other devices of fine mechanics. Also, as you explore different locales, you have no real control which kind of energy fields you interact with. Especially considering that the human body is remarkably resilient and insensitive to natural energy fields which can easily destroy a digital camera.”
“And the other reason?” Kadri asked.
“Dynamic range. The dynamic range of the emulsion on analog film exceeds the dynamic range of a sensor by two full stops, especially when over- and underexposing. On one hand, this allows for a little more leeway when you’re not too precise with your light metering. On the other hand, there are phenomena which can only be captured on photographic film and which the sensor of a digital camera cannot detect. In addition to that, the sharpness of a 35 millimeter film is about ten times better than a digital photo.”
Kadri fell into thought. There was something else she had wanted to ask, but right now it seemed to have disappeared from her consciousness.
“In the bar.” She finally found it. “You said that you know the music that man is selling, right?”
“I did.” Mariann nodded. “And that is the reason I am giving you this as well.”
She handed Kadri an audio cassette in a yellowed plastic case.
“It is a two hour cassette. But I am pretty sure all of the music will fit on one side of the tape. In the case there is also the track list. Take this to Allan and ask him to find the tracks from his database and record a mixtape for you. I would bet anything that a cassette player will outlast a CD-player. And an old cassette player costs next to nothing. Also, all cars are full of cassette radios. I should also have a knapsack for all this junk, somewhere.”
Mariann disappeared again to the depth of the small cottage and left Kadri alone in the photography room. She continued browsing the notebooks with the locations to take photos of and noticed that with every page, the descriptions of tasks grew longer and more detailed. Most of the description of every object was made up of directions on how to get there. Of some she had heard like Luiga or the Officer’s Village, but there were also names she was only now learning of. It was obvious that not all of these places could be visited on foot. At least not within any reasonable amount of time.
“Do you have gas?” Kadri shouted. “At least a canister’s worth?”
“No I don’t.” Mariann said, returning. “All I have is in the car. And if I run low I will go to the Village Dude and ask for more.”
“A bicycle then?”
“Why would you need one or the other anyway?” Asked Mariann as she stepped into the room with a soft leather knapsack.
She started collecting the items on the table and putting them into the knapsack.
“Some of the locations to take photographs of are pretty far away.” Kadri replied. “It is going to be bothersome to walk everywhere.”
“It will be.” Mariann agreed. “But I never said you would have to walk everywhere. In fact, I would recommend against it. I would also recommend you to ditch the long skirt and instead get a pair of pants. And instead of soft sneakers, some high-lace boots or wellingtons. Because some of the locations are deep in the forest or in wetlands.”
“But then...”
“It’s not like I go everywhere in my red car either. Maybe that is one of the reasons the village folk treats me in such a weird way. They see the red car somewhere and immediately assume that I must be nearby. While at the same time somebody else sees me far away from that place with a completely different car. Come.”
Kadri set belt on the knapsack across her shoulder, leaving the sack hanging on her opposite hip. She then followed Mariann. She was led out of the cottage and right onto the wide footpath leading to the dark shed in the corner of the yard. Before, Kadri had thought it to be only for tools but now it seemed that I may have well been a garage. Strangely it hadn’t even occurred to her before that there might be a car in there. As if the only possible transport in this town had been those massive old passenger cars that everybody seemed to be driving.
“Why would they think that you are near the red car?” Kadri asked.
“Because as a rule, I don’t put the roof up. I only do it when it is about to rain or when it is too cold to drive without it.”
Mariann pushed open the wide front doors of the shed which revealed a tall olive drab vehicle. Behind the black bull bar with some surface rust, there sat two rectangular lights on either side. Matte olive drab color, two doors, old-style door handles with faded chrome and a long tail section. The car was tall, obviously off road capable, with big knobby tires. The lower edge of the door was at the height of about half ways between Kadri’s knee and hip, but the steel tubular rail under the body made it slightly easier to get in and out.
“M1009. Three-speed automatic transmission, a diesel engine without electronics or even a turbo and four wheel drive with low range. The tank is full, keys are behind the sunvisor. There is also a stand for the camera at the back, should you need it.”
“Why this one?” Kadri asked.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Mariann said. “Just that this does not drink thirty liters per hundred k. More like ten. It is simple to maintain and if need be, you can sleep at the back. If push comes to shove, you can run it on up to 50% waste oil and with a snorkel you can get into deep waters.”
Kadri opened the creaky front door and climbed onto the driver seat. Bare steel floor with the transfer case lever reaching up from it. Transmission lever on the steering column. The interior of the vehicle was full of a smell containing odors of diesel fuel, gasoline solvent and burnt engine oil.
She found a small set of keys from behind the sun visor and put the key into the ignition. She then turned the metal frame around the key. The glow plug light ignited for a few seconds and then went out. After a few seconds of cranking, the engine noisily came to life and soon the smell of sooty burnt diesel fuel surrounded them.
“V8 diesel?” Kadri asked.
“Yeah.” Mariann said. “You can use it in the future as well, if you want. But I am pretty sure that as soon as you finish with this assignment, you will find yourself some other vehicle to drive.”
Kadri slowly drove the vehicle out of the shed.
“One other thing.” Mariann said.
She reached through the side window of the car and handed Kadri five blue bills with an image of a young women with long wavy hair on each of them.
“What is this for?” Kadri asked.
“Your agreed-upon payment. Take it as a pre-payment made in good faith.”
“Thanks.” Kadri said. “How do I get out of this yard?”