SNOWBABES OF IVDEL

SNOWBABES OF IVDEL - episode 2

Again, having understood nothing, Serov shrugged his shoulders and climbed into the cabin.

They went very quickly, simply rushed into the snow plain. Snowflakes flew up behind the propellersleigh, having hidden in the artificial snowstorm unloading platforms and distant hills.  While the light of the sunset allowed, one could see that the monotony of this snowness was disturbed only by dark-green white-covered forests, which sometimes approached suddenly very close to the ski track and then also suddenly hid behind accidents of the ground. There was absolutely no signs of dwellings, only at one glade in the forest Serov saw abandoned lumbering machines.

Approximately in every hundred meters along the ski track stood grotesque figures made of snow with carrots instead noses and with tin buckets on their heads. Evidently there were much talked-about snowbabes, but Serov bewitched by the speed of driving didn’t asked questions for the time being. 

It became dark finally. Ivdel turned on headlights and the sensation appeared that the vehicle went at a full speed in a dark tunnel, along which strange mystical white sculptures jumped out approaching it and disappearing behind immediately. In this rushing along double rank of snowbabes some broken figures could be glanced from time to time – Ali managed to notice that.  Probably, vandals existed here also.

Having felt warm in cozy chair, Ali grew bolder and decided again to start conversation on the subject that was interesting to him. 

His inquisitive mind didn’t give hum a rest, he wanted to know more and understand the situation as much as possible.

“Listen, friend Ivdel,” began Ali, “you have told that time – snowbabes. So, that means by no means that they are from snow, aren’t they?”

Peering at ski track, glittering in headlights, Ivdel hemed:

“Stated in the messing way, but you can assume that it’s so.”

“Alright, but who gives birth to your children?”

“But I’ve already told you – wives!”

“Therefore, women, after all?”

“Well, if you want to call it so – call it that way, but “wives” is more correct. To the point!”

Ali knitted his brows – something was away from his understanding. Possibly it wasn’t worth asking, but Ivdel looked quite friendly, and Serov’s natural craving to the nitty-gritty drove him further.

“How it can be the same?! Women – they are all women, and wives are not necessarily all of them! Not all of them become wives!”

“Is that right, really?!” Ivdel derisively looked sideways to Serov. “How is it – “not necessarily”? All of them are wives – from the very birth they are!”

“So, every woman is a wife?” specified Ali.

“No doubt!” confirmed Ivdel. “So it is, without fail!”

“And if she will not want?”

“Will not want – what?” the aborigine didn’t understand.

“Well, what if she will not want to be a wife? She possibly could not become wife, but still remain woman, correct? If she has been born as a woman!”

Ivdel pull a face as if he ate a lemon, shook his head and the propeller sleigh swang from side to side, because autopilot wasn’t switched on.

“Have you ever seen at least one that?”

“Who?” it was Serov’s turn not to understand.

“Well, that “woman”, as you call it, which does not want to become a wife.”

“Have seen!” Serov nodded convincingly. “Only one month ago I asked one woman to become my wife and she has refused, because…”

“Has refused?????!!!!!!” suddenly heartrendingly shouted Ivdel and abruptly turned on the dynamic reverse, playing on this vehicle the role of breaks.

The propellersleigh went into a skid and stopped just near one of snowbabes, stood as guard of honor along the road.

“She refused?!?! How she has refused?! How she could refuse?!”

Saying this again and again, Ivdel for some reason or other opened the cabin’s door and fall out into snow, where he started to roll in frenzy, thrashing by his hands and legs.

“Has refused!!!” he cried out. “How could she, stinker, refuse?! It’s not enough to kill for this, not enough! Why she has refused? Give her to me – I’ll tear her with my teeth, I’ll drink her eyes….”

Suddenly he jumped up and ran to the sleigh again. Ali got frightened, that Ivdel would rush at him, and reached for his gun, but had mistaken again.

Ivdel draw long wrench from a tool box and tossed aside track. Slipping, he jumped up to the nearest snowbabe and brought down his improvised club on the head of the sculpture. The bucket caved in with crackle, smashing the head of snow, from which a carrot plunged out, and the aborigine with shouts “How is it – has refused?!”, “I’ll kill her!” and so on, was waving with his piece of iron while only one forth part of the lowest sphere had remained from the whole snowbabe.

Last of all Ivdel grabbed fallen broom and broke its handle at his knee. Having lost equilibrium on the slippery ski track, he crashed down on his back with fruity struck of his head as a final accord. 

Serov was watching the Ivdel’s evolutions with caution, having leaned out of the cabin.

Ivdel, as if nothing had happened, stood up, picked up the wrench and the carrot, which blew out of the snowbabe’s head in the very beginning. Having bitten off a piece from the vegetable, he draw his face and threw the stump away.

“Damn!” The aborigine spitted. “Has frozen, all the way.”

Unexpectedly quietly Ivdel put the wrench in place, shook off snow and returned to the cabin.

“You must settle things with her!” he wagged his finger at Serov. “Just on your returning back you should settle everything. How do you like that – has refused? Oo-oof, just imagine!..”

He rummaged in a cargo compartment and pulled out large bottle with a greenish liquid, which by it’s color reminded Serov a coolant for nuclear reactors, and two simple aluminum mugs. Ivdel by exact movements dashed in both vessels equal quantity of this slop and gave the mug to Serov.

Ali took it with care.

“Well, we shall shot a little for quite sake!” the aborigine dank it at a gulp, smelled the sleeve of his jacket and look at SF in a sideway: “Why you don’t drink?”

Serov inhale the air from his “cup”.

“Is that alcohol?1” asked he suspiciously.

“Not urine, naturally!” laughed Ivdel. “So drink and don’t think too much – it’s necessary to drink. For all good things! Listen, ain’t you muchris, by the way?”

“Bless you,” Ali waved his hand, “of course, not. I am an astronaut, and astronauts all are non-believers.”

“Well, drink so! For muchrises it’s prohibited, they say, and for us it’s allowed.”

“For you – it’s for whom?”

“For Ivdels, it goes without saying. We are free people. Though we live in butt, God is my witness.”

“In butt?!”

“Oh, I’ve said it figuratively, you know. Far away, that is… Well, drink, come on!”

“Hm, without any food?” Serov continued to doubt.

Ivdel made a helpless jest:

“Well, my excuses! I have no foods with me. Let's arrive to the settlement – there are plenty of foods there. And for the time being, you… smell your sleeve, or, here you are…” He leaned over the edge of the cabin and took a lump of snow, “…have a bite of snow. Only a little bit, naturally.”

Serov sighed and drank. Slop appeared to be simply burning, and the fire river flew down SF’s gullet. Ali mechanically seized the snowball given by Ivdel and sent it in the mouth to extinguish a starting fire.

“Wha-at i-is-s thi-is-s?”

“You’ve already guessed yourself – alcohol,” Ivdel was mocking. “We call it “vodochka”. Before that we just only home brewed, and this thing was brought to us by earthlists. They asserted that, as if, it was the gift of their goddess, the Earth. Bullshit, certainly, about the gift, but it’s nice booze. We have expelled earthlists, but have adopted vodochka. The main thing here is to have a special apparatus to make it.”

“Why apparatus, what for?” asked Serov, wiping the tears, which appeared in his eyes: when the first shock had passed, he strangely felt himself much more quietly. “You could take food synthesizer and produce it.”

“What a smart you are! You can’t find synthesizers for everybody, the synthesizer is expensive to operate, and for this apparatus you needed only some amount of sawdust and two jars for distillation.”

“Really? Only two?”

“By my word! Only two jars, but a lot of sawdust. I will draw it for you later. OK, are you alright? Well, here we go!”

The propeller sleigh rushed further in the night.

Ali kept silent for some time. From the slop with strange name of “vodochka” that he had drunken, pleasant warmth spread over his body but not burning, as it was at the first moment. He felt himself very good and pleasantly, and he felt no fear yet on this wild planet with that crazy aborigine, rushing with him through the night. After all, the aborigine is a human, and his vodochka is very nice thing…

Suddenly SF imagined, how he arrived to the “Spacetrans”’s base, took a wrench and went to “settle things” with technologist Ramiya, who had refused to marry him – and he laughed: more ridiculous show was difficult to imagine. Though here it wasn’t worth laughing: if Serov had acted so, he would have been put into prison.

And it’s interesting, would they put a person into prison for that action on Ivdel? However, if here everywhere are complete snows, then prisons are of no need here. Ali thought about it and laughed again.

“Why do you give a coarse laugh all the time?” inquired Ivdel. “Got tanked already?”

“Tanked?” didn’t understood Serov.

“Ah, that’s it! Why you giggle, I say?”

SF explained. Ivdel nodded with understanding:

“Well, I do not suggest you to do in your wife. Simply – settle your problems.”

“But she’s not a wife to me!” objected Serov.

“But how she isn’t?! I tell you: all of them are wives!”

“And if she won’t marry me, then what?”

“Listen – but what of it?!” – Ivdel was amazed. “It doesn’t matter whom she marry. Let her marry and unmarry. But all wives, on a large scale, are public property. Whether there are any restrictions? Are they, tell me?

Serov, suspecting a catch shrugged doubtingly:

“Certainly, are. It is impossible with somebody else’s wife... well, you understand. Well, that is, as though it’s possible, but under the law it is impossible… As though.”

“Oh, just exactly – as though! And, after all, I say it again: what does it mean – somebody else’s wife? Listen, all of them are common! Com-mon! There are no somebody else’s wives, it’s impossible!”

“Ha!” grunted Serov. “How it is simple from your point of view. And everywhere else it is different!”

“You are right,” agreed Ivdel suddenly, “I’ve heard about that. Customs differ everywhere, and all that. But it doesn’t concerns wives, you see!”

“How is it – doesn’t concerns?!”

“So it is! What prevents you to make somebody else’s wife become your one? Tell me – what?”

“To become mine?” Ali asked again slightly reddening.

Ivdel sighed:

“I see my question wasn’t very correct. OK, let her, so to say, to be both his and your wife also. So, tell me: what-prevents-you-from that?”

“Well, and what if her husband finds out?..”

“OK, let alone that variant for a while. Let's assume, he won’t find out at all or he doesn’t care! By the way, mind that: you are husband yourself also! That is, you know, as though, and that another one – or how many are them there? – does not know. Does it suit you?”

“Well, if so…  then it’s possible.”

“There you are!” joyfully continued Ivdel, “all is clicking into place! And when it’s clicked into place, then it must stand there. Both wives and snowbabes and my and your manhood.

“Wait,” remembered Serov, “but why have you broken that snowbabe with the wrench?”

“And with what should I have to break it? By hand, may be? And what does it mean – what for? I was outraged, I had to release irritation. Did you wanted that I would had smashed the head of real wife, I mean – to woman, as you call them?. But it’s too long way to fly to your woman, and, again, they will condemn you for this. Will exile after that in the back of the beyond.”

“Where you could be exile from that place”

“Don’t say! Ivdel isn’t the worst planet, though is the butt. You fly over space and you must know what god-forsaken holes exist in the Universe.”

“Yes, right to you, but… Forgive me, I possibly say something wrong…” 

“Ha-ha!” Ivdel laughed. “I have already noticed that you often say something wrong.”

“I mean that you wouldn’t beat me by the wrench.”

“Far from it!?! It’s impossible – a living sole! Though, depending on the circumstances… So, what you wanted to ask me?”

Ali scratched his head. He was frightened to ask Ivdel, especially, recollecting his dragging   on snow and waving of the wrench. But he could not resist it, and even the end of his nose became wet. And he had made up his mind.

“Well, you here, as if worship to showbabes…”

“And not “as if”, but exactly worship,” confirmed Ivdel. “And what of it?”

 “You worship…” Serov has finally grown bolder from the alcohol, which he drank for the empty belly, “…and has broken it!”

“You’re freak! I’m trying to explain: we worship – and beat at the same time! Everywhere it goes in the same way. This happens from time immemorial; they worship to babe and beat her. Worship – and beat!” 

“Really? You don’t deceive me?”

“I swear! Wives can’t be bitten, but babes can be!”

“Those – from snow?” specified Serov.

“Naturally! And for that we worship to do in then, how can be the different way? Whom to do in then?”

“And when you break all these along the road – what you will do then?”

“First, we have repair brigade called babers, which regularly restores snowbabes. "Babers” means that they initiate a babe, from snow, naturally. Secondly, snowbabes stands not only along this road, but in our settlement too. So everything is alright: there is somebody to worship and somebody to beat.”

“And you do not beat wives?”

“Not for the life of me! You see, the babe is the sense of all things in existence, the babe deserves worship! The babe can consist neither of flesh, nor of sand, nor of wood, nor of metal! The babe is always of snow! Because there is a lot of snow around here.”

“And what is the connection?”

“Psychological solely!”

“Well, go ahead...”

Ivdel looked to Ali with hesitation:

“Hm, are you exactly not muchris?”

“Never!” assured Serov. “Not at any price!”

“Then let’s have some more booze! Because we have a long way to go, and the heater has broken down. So I always say: the piece of iron is the s**t of iron.”

He turned on the autopilot and filled the mugs. Serov realized that he didn’t remember which one was his mug, and the exchanging of tableware with unfamiliar aborigines was said to be  dangerous, because it was possible to catch terrible disease, caused by the pangalactic virus named faggotaid. But vodochka, merrily splashing in the mug, as if had suggested that it was no need to worry about some foolish diseases at such cool but very friendly planet. The illness faggotaidia prospers on the advanced populous warm planets, and from where it could appear here? So Serov quietly drank new shot and smelled his sleeve, as he was told.

“Quite so!” noticed Ivdel with approval. “I was sure that the second one will go better with you. Shall we sing?” 

“Why?” Ali didn’t understand.

“I say, let’s sing a song! Whether you can’t sing at all?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Serov honestly. “I’ve never tried.”

“Oh,” Ivdel waved his hand, “it is even simpler that to drink vodochka, especially if you’ve already shot a dose. I will drink.. damn it – sing, and you sing along with me. Simply repeat words, I mean. Later I’ll write down them for you just for memory.”

And he started certain leisurely sad and at the same time surprisingly melodious song about astronaut, who was freezing in emptiness of the Universe at the spaceship punched by a meteorite. Astronaut was asking something his friend – obviously, he was freezing not alone, – but why his friend wasn’t freezing also, Serov had not understood.

* * *

Almost in two hours of the race on the ski tack some lights blinked ahead, and Ivdel reduced speed.

“There you are – we almost arrived,” he informed. “What about you? You planned to participate in the tender for the contract immediately or to have a rest after the journey?”

Serov understood that it’s necessary to demand to start the tender immediately on arrival, but after drinking, flicker of vague shadows behind the glass of the cabin and melodious-plaintive singings of Ivdel he felt absolutely worn out. “Well, it doesn’t matter too much, after all,” decided he. “Nobody will start the tender tonight.”

“You’re right, it’s worth to sleep a little,” said he aloud.

“Why?! Are you really tired? No even thoughts of sleeping! We’ll have a rest now, understand? Because you have decided not to work today!”

“What do you mean then – to have a rest?” inquired Serov in confusion.

“Indeed – a new day has begun here! And if you decided not to work today, then do not work! And our guys, it seems, already gathered – they eager to see you. Do you think we often have guests from outer space here? – Ivdel pointed his finger to the sky, which was limited by the ceiling of the cabin. – And even two guests at a time!”

“Two?” surprised Ali.

“Certainly! And what about that one who came just before you?”

“Oh, yeah!” Serov almost forgot about the competitor and frowned slightly now. “I wouldn’t want to see him for the time being.”...