SNOWBABES OF IVDEL

SNOBABES OF IVDEL - episode 3

“But why?” Ivdel conciliatorily waved his hand. “Now we shall have a drink, have some steam bath, and then we’ll drink again. Never mind! What have you both to divide on a large scale?”

“What, why?! Our “Spacetrans” have being quietly traded with your planet, and these upstarts from “IC” impudently crawl into the market! And if I wouldn’t prolong the contract, I would have been dismissed!”

“Fancy that!” Ivdel scratched his head. “And is that so terrible if they will fire you?”

“And what is good in being an employed?” sighed Serov.

“How it is possible – to stay without work?” surprised Ivdel. “There is a helluva lot of work around! Things to be done never end. Nobody fires nobody here, because there is always a plenty of work to do.”

Ali ibn Serov looked sideways to the aborigine – was he jeering at him? But Ivdel, judging by everything, spoke absolutely seriously.

“Ignorant dolts,” thought Serov, smiling crookedly. “What could they understand? They are alright – sitting in their snows, making snowbabes and not caring a straw.”

Meanwhile propeller sleigh drove along the street of small town or, better to say, settlement – it was difficult to see in the darkness how big it was, and Ali just orientated only by lights that were burning here and there. The number of lights was not so large but not so small, and it was easy to tell that the most of the houses were single-storey. 

Some of the houses at the same time were brightly illuminated. The propeller sleigh stopped just at on of that houses, having driven about three hundred meters on the street, going up the hilllock.

“So, we have arrived!” joyfully informed Ivdel.

It was frosty but not very hard. Fine snow was falling from the impenetrable-dark sky, glittering in the light of street lamps as vanilla dust. The sleigh was standing at the long building made of large round beams. It was one of a few two-storey buildings in the street, as far as it could be seen in the night. At its corners two pillars with bright lamps rose, lightening the ground near the house. The building was crowned with the roof made of plastic tile, also glittering with the snow. A high five-step porch led to the double door, crisscross bound with metal strips.

To the right, at the parking stood in row several propeller sleighs, and to the left – four sledges, yoked with strange animals, having branchy muzzles of frogs. On the back of each animal  puckered three projections or, humps with long bony outgrowths. Animals periodically put their muzzles in a horizontal tray screwed to the wall of the house, and chewed something evenly.

Serov guessed that, probably, it is so-called curcamels, mentioned by his guide. 

“Are you coming, or not?” called Ivdel already from the porch.

Serov nodded and hurried after the aborigine.

Behind the door was found a wide strongly heated hallway with coat racks where was piled up different leather jackets, some fur coats and absolutely strange woolen clothes embroidered with color patterns. Floors were covered with skins of unknown animals.

“And here are my fellahs,” Ivdel nodded to the coat rack.

Serov thought that somewhere in this pile evidently was hanging the jacket of his rival. Had he knew the appearance of the jacket, he could look whether he had left some documents in its pockets… However, he would be ashamed to do it before Ivdel’s eyes.

From a niche behind high desk quickly stepped stumpy little man in high felt boots, leather pants and crimson shirt, belted with golden lace.

“Hi, Ivdel,” welcomed he the aborigine respectfully but without any servility. “I see you’ve brought one more visitor?”

“Hi, Moses,” nodded Ivdel, kicking off his parka. “Aha, brought. And where is my brother with the first one?”

“They are already in the drawing room. Sir, please go through the formal procedure and write down you name in the guest-book,” the little man made inviting gesture to Serov.

At the desk the data from the forwarder’s papers were written down in the thick velvet cover book. Ali paid attention, that there were hardly a couple of filled pages in the book. While Serov was registering, Ivdel waited patiently, rubbing his hands as if he was looking forward to something very pleasant.

Serov took off his jacket, having taken out of the pockets all valuable things beforehand, put all this in the map-case and followed Ivdel. The bag with his clothes had to be left at the Moses’ desk.

 Just near the entrance to the room where Ivdel was walking, behind the projection of the wall an alcove suddenly was revealed. In the soft bluish light three snowbabes were towering there.

“Not so bad…” murmured Ali, having stopped. 

In the hallway it was very hot, but in the alcove cold air blew from several wide nozzles.

“And what is it?” asked Serov, pointing to snowbabes.

“This?” Ivdel scratch his head. “These are soft brand consumers.”

Amazed Serov looked  sideways to Ivdel, trying to understand whether he jokes or not, and touched the snowbabe that was closer to him with his finger. Under his hand slightly melted snow gave way easily, and at the side of the snowbabe a small dent appeared.

“They seem to be too soft, anyway…” said Serov doubtfully.

Ivdel shrugged:

“These are data of statistics and marketing. One can do nothing about it: if they said something is soft, then it is soft! Not too much of cold air here.”

“And who has been collecting these data?” surprised Ali.

“Who, who… Our kids gathered, while they’ve been making these snowbabes. Well, come on, are these data of any trouble for you?!”

“Such crazy things!” thought Serov. “All right, as to me, I really don’t care. The main thing is to overcome Al-Faraday. With those brands, at least…”

Behind heavy green curtains there was big hall with tables, at which people sat. Highlighted by lamps, long bar with glass shelves full of glittering multicolored bottles, extended to the left. The hall itself in contrast to the area near the bar wasn’t lighted too bright, but at each table small lams shone.

“Hey, Ivdel!” cried somebody. “At last appeared! Come to us!”

For behind the low partition in the corner a man was waving his hand. He looked very similar to the Serov’s guide – the same leggy lean figure. At the table also sat several people and between them Serov noticed pudgy mug of al-Faraday and made a wry face.

They sat down. In all, not counting the newly-arrived and al-Faraday, already known to Serov, here were three men else: Ivdel’s brother-in-law, who met gringo, also named Ivdel, fat fellah Dodik and lumber-merchant with a strange name “Sasha”.

Ivdel briefly introduced Serov, and they drank. Ali felt, that the head, which already was almost cleared from intoxication taken on their journey, flew again in cozy warmth of the bar. He, as well as most of nations flying in the Space, almost did not use alcohol, because the precepts of the Creator were still alive, and they prohibited to drink vine with tinned pork. And though basic mass of gringos, turkorks or those churkas had been for a long time, in general scale, atheists, slightly laughing, for example, at orthodox muchrists, some of the Creator’s precepts were still revered, at least – formally.

Al-Faraday grinned, looking at Serov.

“Well, what cheer?” shamelessly inquired he.

“Business-like!” answered Serov coldly, having snacked the piece of meat, wrapped in boiled dough and seasoned with hot pepper. “Have outstripped for an half an hour and are full of joy already? If you think that…”

Al-Faraday waved his hands:

“No need of groundless accusations! Am I guilty that my lighter has tuned to the point of decent earlier than yours? That was the automatics which made it. We should had coordinated our actions better!” and he gave a wink at Serov.

“It seems this gringo already has built certain bridges with locals,” thought Ali. “They can just immediately anyhow to ingratiate themselves with anybody! And why I haven’t had talked over the matter with Ivdel while we were driving? Damn it, about any rubbish have talked but not on business…”

Meanwhile Ivdel filled glasses again, stood up and cleared his throat.

“Well, my friends,” he began, “allow me to say a word by human voice…”

Ali noticed that other visitors began to pull up to their table. Somebody came up with his own glass, in which Ivdel immediately poured up some alcohol, somebody moved with his chair, and now near the table gathered already about twenty persons who were curious.

 “I would like to welcome our guests, I mean.” Ivdel by wide gesture pointed to Serov and al-Faraday, and all around applauded. “They are remarkable astronauts, carrying their company’s goods to different planets. Today they flew to us together to sign contracts. And this are we who have to choose which contract is better…”

“And how to define which one is better?” shouted somebody from the crowd.

“And we’ll now have some good time, steam in steam-house, and then will decide,” answered Ivdel.  “So – to the trade and friendship, there!”

“For profitable trade!” – added hated al-Faraday, stretching his mouth up to ears.

“Is grinning, son of a b***h,” thought Ali drearily. “But is his position much stronger than mine? Not at all! “Spacetrans” trades here for many years and “IC” tries to start only now. But how impertinently tries! Even here has outstripped me by half an hour!”

Ivdel slightly pushed him to the side:

“Why you look so worried?”

 “Let’s go out for a minute,” asked Serov, who felt considerable noise in his head already. “I have to talk to you!” 

Ivdel shrugged:

“We can go out, but now there well be a toast for snowbabes… We can’t for the time being!”

“What?!” surprised Serov, almost having forgotten about the special status of snowbabes on the Ivdel.

“Hush!” asked Ivdel. “Now Sasha will speak!”

Healthy fellow Sasha stood up – he wore a green peasant coat decorated with golden flowers.

“Sirs – natives and you, dear guests,” he said. “I want to drink to our beloved snowbabes! What would we do without them – I really do not know. Whatever to say, they provide our family happiness and harmony!”

All around the table had nodded approvingly, whispered between each other and drunken. Serov stealthily looked at al-Faraday – gringo drank equally with aborigines, so Ali also knocked back the glass, decided not to look as a square peg in a round hole, melted snowbabe or, at worst, soft brand consumer.

“Wait,” suddenly recollected he, again leaning to Ivdel, “you have told me something about wives. Where are they with you?”

“How where?” Ivdel was amazed. “Sitting at home! Tavern is man’s place! As the manhood. And you what – need a wife? So, it is simplest thing at us…”

He took a bunch of some small plates put of his pocket and shook it under Serov’s nose.

“Here you are, choose any one!”

Only now Ali saw that there are not simple plates but mnemonic crystals.

“Can I have a look?” asked he irresolutely, feeling that gets tipsy not only with spirits, but also with recklessness of local customs.

“Certainly, look.”

Serov, constraining a grin, started to put mnemocrystals to his temple, scrutinizing Ivdel’s wives. Women were pictured in different moments – some were bustling about in the kitchen, some engaged in tiding up a room, and some were…. Serov’s face became hot, and he involuntary casted down his eyes.

However, now everyone at the table already made a lot of noise, and nobody paid any attention to Serov reaction.

“Like it?” Ivdel slapped his shoulder. “Which one have you chosen?”

“What do you mean?” entirely confused Ali. “To get married, perhaps? But, you see, I…”

“Who talks of marring?! I suggest you to pick up a wife. Simply temporarily. You just have arrived to us for a couple of days – and you can take a wife for this time. It is normal!”

“Well, I haven’t thought about that,” mumbled Ali, remembering self-assured face of Ramiya. “Wait!” suddenly guessed he, “I still can’t understand. So you say – wives are common, is it right?”

“Exactly!” Ivdel slightly waved his advanced forefinger in the air, as if he threatened to Serov.

“But if there are wives, then children happens, right?”

“Oh, right!” joyfully assured Ivdel. “You bet! Though, if you don’t want, then children don’t happen – why should they if you do not want? There are different remedies, and, after all, you can do…” he waved with the bristling palm of his hand in the air.

Serov rounded his eyes:

“But they can happen, can’t they? And if children happen, then – how?.. Whom they belong to in this case? How you assign them?”

Ivdel giggled:

“How we assign? We raffle them off! Silly you are! – this is called “biology”, excahging of genes! You pull the ticket – and receive!..”

Those sitting at the table got tired of their talks and they bawled:

“Stop wag your tongues!” Sasha was yelling. “Now we all go to the steam bath!”

Serov helplessly waves his hand and began to rise from the table, but felt treacherous tremor in his legs and catch at the edge of the table not to fall down.

“Oh!” several voices shouted at the same time, “Our guest wants to propose a toast before we go to the steam bath!”

Ali saw that a full glass appeared in his hand from somewhere.

“My friends!” he began. “Honestly, I am very glad to visit you here! Little steam bath is great thing, probably. And I also loved your snowbabes…”  

All gathered at the table had made noise approvingly. Serov shook his head, trying to catch the idea, which was slipping behind the curtain of intoxication, and, as with cat that had soiled, to start rubbing her nose in the main point.      

“Dear customers of “Spacetrans,” pronounced he very coherently and unexpectedly for himself, “I have arrived to sign new contract with very profitable conditions for you. I suppose, I will be one who signs this contract, just me! To the contract... and to you all!”

Almost without wincing and wondering how easily the burning liquid flows down his gullet, Serov bottomed up the glass and would fall down if not Ivdel who supported him. Through the mist in his eyes he noticed crooked face of al-Faraday and laughed gladly.

“We go to the steam bath, to the steam bath!” Ivdel dragged Ali somewhere in the distant corner of the hall, where the door leading to the basement was found. 

* * *

 The following events merged in the line of strange pictures, completely messed up in Serov’s brain. Among all the most impressive was that initially he in big company of men was stripped naked and dragged in low very heated room, where clouds of steam were swirling. Serov was thrown down at slippery wooden bench and men started to lash him by a bunch of branches with leaves. At the beginning Ali got afraid, but suddenly it turned out to be very pleasant, and he almost got asleep at this bench, just mechanically protecting his genitals with hands, in order to protect this gentle organ from damages, that could be produced by flying up and down bunch of branches.

Again unexpectedly he fell plop into the cold water to the laughter that almost brought him into the sense. This cycle of steaming and cold watering continued several times, and Ali noticed that al-Faraday also involved to this procedure and was also heavily drunk. That all the time calmed Serov subconsciously, because even through thick alcohol and water vapors he understood that in such condition gringo would hardly be able to sign anything. The only point that was worrying him was the though about his map-case with documents. Though, he couldn’t see al-Faraday’s map-case with him, and gradually he got absolutely quiet.

After all, Serov found out that he was standing, almost properly dressed, in the street about fifty meters from the tavern and looking somewhere in the darkness between nearest houses.

Somebody slapped him on the shoulder, and Ali turned back having to save the equilibrium with difficulty.

“Steadier, steadier!” reeling Ivdel was holding SF by the elbow. “We have to get out refreshing ourselves. Wait a minute, I have to take a leak…”

Ivdel minced along somewhere aside, and Serov, also having felt suddenly the demand to move, hobbled off half-unconsciously on unbending legs in dark lane between the houses as if something was attracting him there.    

The lane led downhill. Constantly slipping and rising up with concentration and in a hurry, Serov went for rather long time and suddenly in font of him in the reflected light of distant lamps had glittered the broad water surface. He approached whether to pond or lake. It unexpectedly wasn’t frozen. The lane ended on the low stoned embankment, disappearing on parabola in the darkness to the left and to the right. Just in front of Serov at the embankment at the pillar of about two meter high there was a dim lamp giving some light. Vague figure stood near the water. 

Ali came up and saw that it was a woman. SF was surprised very much – it was the first woman, met on Ivdel for the moment. The lamp gave weak light and it came slightly from behind and aside, but it seemed to Serov that the woman was beautiful.

“Hi!” he said, trying to articulate sounds as much clear as possible.

The woman slowly turned her head and looked to Serov.

“Hi,” said she with chest voice. “That was you who landed today?”

“It’s me,” answered Serov, not knowing what else to say.

He eager to talk to woman, especially with the beautiful one, but words suddenly scattered in all directions and hid in the darkness.

“You have flown just today,” said the woman, “and came here immediately…”

Ali waited for the continuation, but the woman kept silence. Ali coughed, standing unsteadily:

“A beautiful lake,” said he just to say anything, though in the dark one could see only a small area of the embankment and reflects of widely spaced settlement’s lights in the water. “What is its name?”

The woman gave a slight start:

“By no means! It’s not a lake – it is the cemetery of snowbabes! And women, women are also berried here.”

Fear seized Serov. He came up close to the water and where the light of the weak lamp fell, he saw many floating carrots. Putrid smell of the water stroke his nose.   

“One more babe to count!” though Serov, not even knowing what he was thinking about.

“What a horror…” murmured he aloud.

 “Oh, there you are!” Ivdel’s joyful cry suddenly sounded form behind. “And I’ve already lost you. I see it’s high time to choose a wife for you.” And he dragged Serov by the hand away from the lake-cemetery.

“And she?..” whispered Serov, pointing to the woman.

“Leave her,” Ivdel was leading him to the light near the tavern.

“The wife…” murmured Serov, almost not gasping anything.

“We’ll find another one, and let this one to stand here for the time being,” confirmed Ivdel rather sharp. “She is pre-pairing to berry herself because she doesn’t want to have husbands. Sometimes it happens, and these ones went here.”

“Preparing?..” asked Serov weakly.

“Pre-pairing,” corrected Ivdel. “So nobody should touch her that time. But you won’t understand that yet. Later. And now we’ll find a wife for you…”