The Way of Muri (7 page)

The technician, whose name was Mirko, continued to oil the mechanisms and look after the generator, for which they still had several canisters of fuel. But Patić’s mind was elsewhere. He bit all his fingernails to the quick in anticipation of triumph. When his computer broke, the astronomer continued his calculations with pen and paper. His concentration was as intense as that of Newton, who once famously boiled his watch instead of an egg.

Latterly, the conversations between the two men left on the mountain had become more like a random exchange of words than genuine communication. Without listening to the other, each of them held forth at length on his own obsession. The technician complained endlessly about the old generator, while Patić kept insisting that he would show those Belgrade intellectuals – it was just a matter of time.

Meanwhile their food started running out. Finally, one evening, they shared the last spoonful of coffee. There was still some barley drink left, though not much.

‘Excellent!’ exclaimed Patić. ‘You’ll see! The explosion will be visible from here.’

‘They’re all laughing at us,’ said the technician, who wasn’t one for mincing his words. ‘You just don’t want to admit it. I don’t give a damn about your stupid fantasy! We’re lucky, you know – no one’s thought of searching up here yet. But sooner or later they will, and how will your delusions help us then? You’re Catholic, and I’m Muslim. You’re Croatian, I’m Albanian. There’s an explosive mix for you! Do you think the Zagreb Muslims will show any mercy to a Catholic? Your lot won’t waste any time laying into me, either, and the Serbs will hack both of us to pieces… Anyway,’ the technician pointed out miserably, ‘I seem to remember you predicting the same thing this time last year. So where is it, this miracle of yours?’

‘Let me tell you the story of Robinson Crusoe,’ answered the astronomer. ‘This poor, shipwrecked sailor spent ten years building a boat from the strongest wood he could find. He
worked on it day and night, dreaming that he would finally be able to leave the island he had come to hate.’

‘I couldn’t care less about your shipwrecked sailor!’ exclaimed Mirko.

‘Just listen,’ Patić replied solemnly. He was preparing for his next shift, pulling on his sheepskin coat and fur boots. ‘When Robinson had finished building his boat, he discovered that he’d built it too far from the shore. It hadn’t occurred to him that it would be too heavy for him to drag to the ocean alone!’

‘You and he have a lot in common,’ declared the technician.

‘So Robinson began to roll about on the sand, throwing handfuls of it over himself. He pulled all his hair out in despair, crying, “Why, Lord?” He had experienced the greatest shock imaginable, the equivalent of Job’s despair!’

‘Yes, and we both know the moral of the story,’ interrupted the technician. ‘You must have told me a thousand times.’

‘Finally Robinson grew tired of weeping,’ continued Patić, ignoring the jibe. ‘He grew tired of weeping, tired of seeking explanations, tired of pouring sand over himself, tired of appealing to God… He even grew tired of his own misfortune, and trust me, that’s the final stage of despair!’

‘So he started to build a new boat,’ the technician continued despondently. ‘Out of wood that was growing close to the shore.’

‘Yes! Then he built a new boat!’ declared Patić, at sufficient volume to set the plates and bowls rattling on their shelf. Then he opened the door and almost stepped on an unexpected, and rather bedraggled, guest.

Muri had sensed the imminent drop in temperature that morning, as he made his way along the snowy mountain pass. The wooden hut of the observatory could not have been more opportunely placed. Petko Patić immediately let the cat into the warmth, just as Jacob had done. Once inside, Muri devoured a portion of stewed meat, miaowing in gratitude. Then he padded over and rubbed himself against the astronomer’s bed,
but instead of jumping up onto it he curled up on the floor near the stove, determined to enjoy its heat. Patić lingered, keen to make sure their guest was settled, in spite of his excitement at the starry night, the falling temperature and the frost that had already begun to decorate the windows.

The technician wasn’t fooled by the cat’s apparent display of affection.

‘You shouldn’t fall for all that nonsense! Crafty little devil! I’d throw him back outside, if I were you. They’re so devious… All that stretching and purring, that’s just for show! They know exactly what they want. Kick him out right now, I tell you, or you’ll never get rid of him!’

‘He’s just a poor, defenceless animal!’ exclaimed the astronomer. ‘What have you got against him?’

‘They’ve got their own agenda, however much they fawn all over you,’ declared the technician. ‘They don’t care about anything else. They’re just out for what they can get.’ He grabbed Muri by the scruff of his neck and snarled at him, ‘What’s the big idea, eh? Have you come to steal the last of our food? Or are you just looking for a roof over your head until it warms up a bit?’

‘He’s here to stay,’ the astronomer answered cheerfully on the cat’s behalf. ‘I know what cats are like. They just need somewhere to call home.’

‘What exactly are you planning to feed it, eh?’ Mirko was really starting to lose his temper. ‘All we have left is about ten cans of stewed meat, some pasta and a few other scraps. We’re not going to have anything left to eat ourselves soon!’

‘Leave him alone,’ Patić said firmly.

‘You’re right about one thing!’ declared the technician. ‘Now he’s got his foot in the door, that cat’s not going anywhere. At least, not until the food runs out – then he’ll disappear like the wind. Little bastards… All they care about is themselves. They know exactly what they’re after!’

‘Good for them!’ exclaimed Petko Patić. ‘Anyway, I have to go now.’

‘The world’s gone mad! They’re all killing one another, and it’s only a matter of time before we’re discovered up here by a gang of bandits, and then we’ll be killed too… And all you can think about is your stupid theory!’ The technician was seething with impotent rage. ‘But who cares? That stupid star of yours isn’t going to keep anyone warm at night. You don’t even realize how crazy you are!’

In despair he kicked out at the cat, who immediately sought refuge under the astronomer’s bed.

‘You’re actually insane,’ continued Mirko. ‘Do you understand that, or not? Lying on the freezing concrete, your eye glued to that lens night after night, scribbling away in your stupid notebooks…’

‘The state of the world is of no concern to me!’ answered Patić. ‘They can carry on blowing one another up, for all I care. The Council are a bunch of clueless idiots. They’ll be laughing on the other side of their faces soon enough, though, mark my words! But why am I bothering to explain myself to you? Who cares if Zagreb and Belgrade are reduced to ashes, along with the rest of Europe, for that matter – what difference will it make?’

Patić saw that the technician was rendered speechless by his outburst. ‘I don’t want to get into an argument with you about it,’ he added firmly. ‘You’re free to leave whenever you like, but I’m staying here! So what if the night freezes me to the floor and my arms turn numb? So what if we run out of bread? I’ll live on pine needles if I have to!’

‘And what are you going to have to show for it?’ the technician taunted him. ‘You can’t just pretend the Council doesn’t exist. What are you going to say to them if you screw it up again?’

Patić responded by triumphantly passing wind.

Once the astronomer had gone out into the freezing night air, to cling to his rope and haul himself up closer to the stars, Mirko turned his attention back to the cat. ‘You little bastard!’ he scowled. ‘If you think you’re going to stick around here, filling
your belly at our expense, you’ve got another think coming. You might be able to dupe that old fool, but you’d better watch out for my broom.’

With these words of encouragement he reached under the bed to try and grab the cat, but Muri had wisely retreated as far back as he could.

‘We should run, yes, run…’ muttered the technician. ‘Back to our own kind, as fast as we can, before others come and find us. We can’t stay here! And as for you,’ he said, glaring at Muri again, ‘I’m going to make damn sure you leave tomorrow. I know your game… Oh yes, you can arch your back and purr your little heart out, but if anything were to happen to either of us you’d be first in line to gnaw at our bones. I hate cats! It’s stupid the way people make such a fuss of you, falling over themselves to feed you… Hey, you understand what I’m saying, don’t you, you little devil?’

‘That’s right!’ the disgruntled cat hissed back at him in self-defence, his widely spaced teeth making it sound rather peculiar. ‘Every word. What’s more, I can tell that your limbs are shaking with fear and your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. Let’s see which of us leaves first, shall we? As long as there’s frost on the ground and enough food to go round, I’m not planning on going anywhere.’

‘Don’t imagine for one minute that I have any intention of sharing my last rations with you,’ the technician warned him. ‘As far as I’m concerned you can chew the walls, claw the bed and quench your thirst with snow… But one thing’s for sure, you’ll die before the last rusks are finished!’

‘We’ll see about that,’ purred Muri from beneath the ascetic’s bed.

Temperatures plummeted, hovering at around minus thirty degrees Celsius for days, but Petko Patić, his sheepskin coat frozen to the floor of the observatory, remained at his post. While Serbian artillery was decimating the Bosnian Muslims,
Petko Patić was awaiting a different kind of explosion in galaxy D104-2. It had been exactly 1,324 years since the last supernova in this sector of the Universe, so there was simply no doubt in his mind that it would occur. The pain in the small of his back barely even registered! Every evening he would clamber to the top of the tower, full of hope, and every morning he would come back down and throw open the door of the wooden hut, fresh as a daisy, without once losing his footing on the icy steps.

‘There’s hardly any fuel left,’ warned the technician. ‘Another couple of hours and it’ll be time to get the candles ready!’

The frost was making everything outside creak and groan. Muri could feel the harsh brutality of Nature with every fibre of his being. But even this cloud had a silver lining: the local elementals had taken refuge in the driest and warmest cracks they could find, and not a single squeak reached Muri’s ears for the entire duration of his stay in the hut. He had grown tired of their continuous ultrasonic chatter, so this particular silence was bliss.

Without paying any attention to the technician’s warning, Patić took a tin opener and opened the last of the stewed meat. Naturally, the first piece of top-quality Argentinian beef was given to the cat.

‘Great Allah!’ exclaimed Mirko, outraged. ‘That’s the last of our food!’

‘What about the rusks?’ the astronomer reminded him. ‘And we’ve still got some flour and salt. Fill my flask up with hot water – it’s time for my next shift!’

This stoicism was the final straw for the technician.

‘It’s been two months already!’ he yelled, flinging his mug at the cat. ‘Two whole months we’ve been sitting here, and for what? That damned supernova of yours is as elusive as the devil himself! It’s never going to explode! It’s just a crazy fantasy, and you’re obsessed with it! Everything they said about you is true – you’re a failure, and a dangerous maniac into the bargain. Well, you can stay here with this mangy ball of fur, who’ll sink his
teeth into your throat as soon as he detects the slightest sign of weakness, but I’ve had enough! I’m leaving. Carry on climbing up and down those damned steps, gorge yourself on pine needles, wash them down with melted snow and feed that cat on your own shit. It’ll be interesting to see how long you last!’

Petko Patić had every right to react the way he did. Seizing the technician by the front of his shirt and shaking him from side to side, the astronomer roared, ‘Do you really know how important those steps are to me? Then you also know that no deprivation or threat of violence will ever make me leave this place!’

After this impassioned statement Patić released the limp technician, who began rushing frantically about the cold hut like a cowardly spirit who’d been left behind. The technician loudly informed the mountains and the stars that he was leaving immediately, because he couldn’t possibly stay there a minute longer with a lunatic who had almost killed him.

‘Only because I feel sorry for you,’ he yelled, ‘I urge you to come to your senses and leave with me – tomorrow will be too late!’

Patić burst out laughing and said, ‘I can’t – remember Robinson’s boat!’

Muri pressed himself demonstratively against the astronomer’s legs. Sensing the cat’s contempt, the technician gave full vent to his indignation. His entire impotent rage was now directed at this sly, arrogant creature.

‘You ungrateful little beast! I know what you’re up to. You’re going to wait until that soft-hearted old fool collapses out of weakness or freezes up there in his tower, next to that useless great magnifying glass of his, and then you’ll set to work… Talk about biting the hand that feeds you! But you don’t fool me. Oh no, I can see what you’re up to, and I’m not going to fall for it!’

When the door slammed behind the impetuous traitor, Patić mixed the last handful of barley drink with the hot water in the kettle, poured it into his vacuum flask and picked up a rusk. He turned to the cat.

‘Well, even in that state it still slams! I wonder what those fools at the Council would have to say about all of this.’

Petko Patić ran his fingers through his unkempt hair and stood up, quietly dignified. He was no stranger to emotional outbursts.

‘Fool!’ he thought. ‘He keeps on running but he never gets anywhere. I stay in one place, but I’m already somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away!’

The astronomer wrapped himself up more tightly in his sheepskin coat and picked up his flask of tinted hot water.

‘Doesn’t look like you’ve got anywhere else to go,’ he said, winking at the cat. ‘So you might as well stay here with me!’