Time Pirate 6, page 17
“Go ahead,” she said as she sat down. “Tell me what you think.”
I returned to my seat and lifted the lid off the bowl. Steam clouded my face for a moment, but I could pick out chunks of beef and sausage, and I could detect the unmistakable scent of bacon as well. Garlic and onion were there as well, and when the steam cleared, I could see potatoes, carrots, and olives.
It somehow seemed an injustice to eat such a thick stew with only a plastic spoon, but I shoved the flimsy utensil into the dense liquid and stirred it for a moment before I took my first bite.
“Holy crap,” I said as the flavors rolled over my tongue. “I get why it’s called sweet and sour. Damn, this is good.”
The sweet came from the sausage, cream, and sweet paprika, while the bits of pickle created a sour tang. It was all carefully balanced by the earthiness of the mushrooms and a pop of bright citrus from the lemon slice that sat on top, and I knew I was going to have to find a way to make this when I got back to DC.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said and took a bite. “I wasn’t sure if you liked Russian food or not.”
“I haven’t had it very often,” I admitted. “But Ekaterina made a wonderful Russian meal for us one night. Well, she had help from Joan and Emily, but I suspect the Commander’s wife did most of the work.”
“Ekaterina is a wonderful woman,” Inessa agreed. “And I’ve had some of her cooking. Honestly, I don’t know how her husband stays so fit. Most men I know would grow fat from always eating her food.”
“I suspect he spends a lot of time training.” I grinned as I tried to imagine what a fat Andreev would look like, and then I opened the beer because the meal wasn’t fattening enough already.
The beer turned out to be a dark stout that reminded me of something that would be served in a British pub. It had a real heft to it that almost made it feel like I was eating another course, but it complemented the stew perfectly, and I found myself enjoying several deep gulps before I returned to the stew.
We finished the meal in silence, and Inessa set the bowls and empty beer cans just outside the door. She sighed as she sat down again, and then she turned to look at me.
“They’ll probably turn the lights down soon,” she noted.
“It’s still early for me,” I said. “I don’t think I could fall asleep if I tried.”
“I don’t think I can, either,” she said with a frown. “I’m too… nervous to sleep.”
“Have you ever been to the island before?” I asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t even been to the lake before.”
“That seems like a shame,” I said. “Ivan said it was the best place in the world.”
“My parents went once.” She smiled at the fond memory and then laughed lightly. “It was before they had any children. My mother told my father it might be their only chance to go, because they probably wouldn’t be able to afford it after they had kids.”
“Sounds like she was right,” I noted.
“Oh, I think they could’ve paid for it. They just didn’t want to drag the rest of us along.”
“Kids can ruin things,” I laughed. “My mom still talks about the time she took me to see Santa at the main Macy’s store in Manhattan. Dad was stuck overseas on some assignment for his company, so my mom drove us to her sister’s house on Long Island. My mom got this idea to take me to see the real Santa Claus, but of course, my cousins started telling me all sorts of scary stories the night before.”
“About Santa Claus?” she asked in disbelief.
“Oh, sure.” I nodded and thought for a moment. “They told me stuff like not to drink anything until after I’d met Santa, so I didn’t pee in his lap, and not to fall for the trick question ‘what do you want for Christmas?’”
“How is that a trick question?” she asked.
“Because good boys and girls would always ask for something like world peace or something that their parents needed, but bad kids always asked for something for themselves.”
“That’s a terrible thing to tell a child.” Despite her disapproving tone, she was grinning at me.
“Oh, there was a lot more,” I said. “Keep in mind, I was only like six years old at the time, so I was basically a nervous wreck by the time we got to Macy’s. I was trying to remember all these rules about what I should say and do, and of course, everything I did was wrong. I started to shuffle my feet, which was a big no-no, and then my stomach growled, because I’d been too terrified to eat. I couldn’t think of anything my parents needed, but world peace seemed too easy… And then the elf said it was our turn, and my mom started to tug me forward.”
“Oh, no,” Inessa said in a far too gleeful voice.
“Oh, yes,” I replied. “My mom kept talking about how nice the photos would look, but I didn’t care at that point. All I could see was this big, scary man who would leave me a pile of coal for Christmas. I realize now the poor guy had probably been on the job for hours and was tired of listening to kids beg for toys, but when he gave me that fake smile, all I wanted to do was run away before he realized just how bad I was.”
Inessa burst out laughing, and the merry sound echoed in the tight confines of the compartment. She finally managed to contain herself and motioned for me to continue.
“Somehow, my mom dragged me up on the little stage and even managed to get me on Santa’s lap, but as soon as he opened his mouth, I jumped off.” I found myself grinning at the younger me, who had been terrified that Santa was about to pass a terrible sentence. “I shouted something like ‘I’m a good kid’ and then took off. I just started running through this enormous store packed with holiday shoppers, and my poor mom never stood a chance.”
“She obviously found you again,” Inessa said.
“Well, one of the security guards did,” I corrected. “I was hiding under a display in the home goods department. He managed to get my name and my mom’s cell number out of me, though mostly I just kept mumbling that I couldn’t let Santa find me.”
We both laughed then, and we kept going even after someone in the compartment behind ours pounded on the wall. Not long after, the lights dimmed, and we both settled back on our bunks. Neither one of us was ready to sleep, though, so we exchanged more funny stories about our childhoods for most of the night. I drifted off about an hour before we arrived at Irkutsk, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the train and Inessa’s deep breathing after she dropped off.
The sudden jolt as the train pulled to a stop at the station nearly sent me tumbling off the edge of the bunk, and when I rubbed my eyes and looked up, I could see sunlight filling our compartment. Inessa was already gathering our belongings, so I scrambled to my feet and helped her drag the bags into the corridor.
A cold wind blasted us as soon as we stepped off the train, and we darted into the building before I really had a chance to look at it. I was vaguely aware it was another grand building, but then we were swallowed up by the crowds and had to push our way toward the exits.
Inessa took the lead again once we were outside, and we walked through the cold wind to a bus station a few blocks away. Several buses were lined up and boarding passengers, and Inessa checked the hand-scribbled signs in the window before motioning me to board one of the buses.
I carried both our bags up the steps and added them to the pile of bags already in the luggage area while Inessa paid for our tickets. Once that was done, we claimed two seats near the front so we could keep an eye on our bags until they were loaded in the storage area under the bus, and then we sat back to wait for the next part of our journey to begin.
I could remember pulling away from the bus station and enjoying the views of Irkutsk, but at some point, I fell asleep as the night on the train caught up with me. I slept through most of the bus ride, and all I could remember about it was some weird dream where I kept trying to take a daguerreotype of each of my girls, but they kept moving before it was done.
What finally woke me was a sharp thunk and the sensation that we were rolling, and when I opened my eyes, I saw our bus was now on a ferry that was slowly pulling away from the dock. A vast body of clear blue water stretched to the horizon, where snow-capped mountains glittered under the bright sun. I could see there was still a lot of green, even though snow dusted the ground, and there looked to be a thin layer of ice along the edge of the lake.
The land disappeared as we moved further into the waters, though the mountains were always there to guide us. The lake was busy, and we saw plenty of sailboats, motorboats, and even some small cargo ships as we crossed. I would’ve liked to get off the bus and maybe walk along the deck of the ferry to get a better look at the lake, but the driver didn’t open the door to let us out, and no one seemed willing to ask if we could explore the ferry.
So, I was back to twiddling my thumbs by the time we reached Olkhon Island. We had to wait for another ferry to leave, but then the captain brought us in with barely a bump. Two minutes later, the bus rolled off the ferry and drove away from the shore toward the center of the town, which wasn’t saying that much since we probably could’ve walked there in the same amount of time as it took to drive there.
We were now in Khuzir, the largest town on the island, which was mostly a collection of wooden buildings inside a long wooden fence. There were a couple of yurts set up near the main road and a line of totem poles with ribbons along the shore, but otherwise, it looked like a humble collection of homes.
“Are you sure there’s a hotel?” I whispered.
Inessa nodded, though she wasn’t looking quite as certain.
The bus pulled to a stop in front of a two-story brick building, one of the few in the entire town, and the passengers disembarked and began to collect their luggage. We grabbed our bags and lumbered off the bus, but we only took a few steps before we stopped again and looked around.
“Ummm,” I muttered. “What’s the name of the place where we’re staying?”
“Villa Malina,” she replied.
“There,” I said and pointed toward a sign that had various hotels listed with arrows that pointed in what I hoped was the correct direction.
We set off along the muddy road until we reached the edge of the small town, where we found another sign for our hotel nailed to the front of a fence. The Villa Malina turned out to be one of the newer buildings in Khuzir, with a vaguely log cabin look and lots of big windows. A row of swings had been set up along the front, and a giant wraparound porch obviously provided spectacular views of the island. It looked cozy, though the path to the front steps was just as muddy as the road.
Two boot scrapers were on either side of the door to the lobby, so obviously mud was the norm in the town. We cleaned off our boots and the wheels on our bags as best we could, and then we stepped into the wood-paneled lobby. It smelled vaguely of cedar and incense, but it was also warm and bright, in large part because of the fireplace.
There was also a dining room and bar on this level, and I could see plenty of people gathered around the bar already. The dining room wasn’t as busy yet, but I figured that would change once the dinner hour rolled around.
“May I help you?” a young woman asked.
She looked more like the pictures of women from Nepal than Russia, and she had an accent I hadn’t heard before. She kept her hands poised over the computer keyboard as she waited for us to say something.
“We have a reservation,” Inessa replied. “Under Ludik.”
“Ah, yes,” the girl said as she typed away. “We’ve been expecting you.”
She waited for the computer to do its thing, and then she opened a drawer and pulled out a key card. She slid that across the desk to Inessa, along with what looked like a list of sightseeing tours.
“You’re in room twenty-three,” the girl added. “Take these stairs to the next floor, and then go through the double doors at the end. Your room will be just to your right.”
“Thank you,” Inessa and I both said.
We grabbed our bags and headed for the staircase, which brought us to another bar and restaurant. But straight ahead were a pair of glass double doors, so we headed for those. We stepped out into another blast of cold air, and we hurried down along the walkway on our right to our room.
Inessa held the key card over the scanner until it turned green and the lock clicked, and then she pushed the door open and darted inside. I was right behind her, and I slammed the door shut just as another cold wind tickled the back of my neck.
“Hey, this is pretty nice,” I said in surprise.
The room was also wood paneled, though part of it had been stained a light blue shade to create some contrast. A brown wool carpet provided a touch of warmth, and a queen-sized platform bed had pride of place with a view out the large window by the door. There was a smaller bed tucked into a corner, and for a moment, I wondered if Inessa or one of the other Russians had requested two beds. But then I remembered what Ivan had said about families visiting the island and realized it was probably meant to accommodate the kiddos whenever a family stayed in this room.
“I think I can be comfortable here,” Inessa declared as she flopped onto the bed. “And I like that it has a restaurant. We won’t have to trek all over town to find someplace to eat.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” I teased.
“Wondering how long it will take to get from here to Val’s dacha,” she replied and then pulled out a cell phone.
“I left mine,” I sighed.
“Good,” she said and glanced up from the screen. “This one’s a burner.”
I nodded while she went back to tapping at the screen, and after a moment, she looked up.
“It’s actually close to here,” she said. “About a fifteen-minute walk.”
“Well, I need to stay awake if I don’t want to suffer from jet lag the whole time we’re here,” I said and went to stand by the window. “Feel like stretching your legs?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed as she swung her legs over the side.
Five minutes later, we were trudging along the muddy road, hand in hand like some of the other couples we saw. We nodded to a few people, though we made a point of staying away from the more popular areas, which everyone seemed to respect. A few of the older people we saw smirked when they saw us, so at least people seemed to believe we were a couple on a romantic weekend.
The dirt road out of the town snaked to some of the other settlements on the island as well as the dachas like the one where Val was. We followed it part of the way, until it crossed a footpath. Inessa pulled me toward the trail, and soon, we were climbing over rocks and scrambling up steep slopes toward the top of the ridge.
“Sorry,” Inessa heaved when we finally reached the top. “I didn’t… realize… how tough… the climb was.”
“It’s okay,” I said and took a couple of breaths. “We probably don’t have to worry about too many people wandering by.”
She nodded as she pulled out her phone again. She checked our location, and then we followed the trail around a rocky ledge. A moment later, we were staring across the vast expanse of the lake to our right at a very modern building in a valley just below us. It was probably supposed to look like one of those mid-century modern homes in California, but nothing could hide the fact that it was a giant concrete block. There weren’t many windows, and the ones that were there had iron bars. There was a long dock with a pair of powerful motorboats at the end, and what looked like a barbeque pit in what would be considered the backyard.
It could’ve belonged to any wealthy Russian oligarch, though the men with automatic rifles who patrolled the grounds made it clear that it wasn’t just any average billionaire who was in residence.
“Seems like a good time to test our sunglasses,” I said and adjusted the view on my fancy lenses.
The dacha was suddenly right in front of me, and I could see the features of each of the guards. I could also see the keypads by the doors and the cameras that were scattered around the property.
“Good thing we have the cloaks,” Inessa commented.
“I count at least six cameras,” I said. “And I’m sure there are more on the other side.”
We watched for a few more minutes, but then I realized the image was getting darker. I looked up and saw the sun was starting to set, and I had no desire to be stuck on the treacherous path in the dark.
“We should head back,” I said.
Inessa nodded as she pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them into the front pocket of her jacket.
I took one last look at the dacha, and then I turned to follow the sexy physicist along the path. We’d made it through the roughest part of the path before we saw anyone else. It was an older man with a dog, and he was chatting with the canine like the pair were old friends.
“Good evening,” he said when he was just a couple of feet away from us.
“Good evening,” we replied.
“It’s a wonderful time for a walk,” Inessa added.
“We always try to come out around this time,” he said with a smile. “Did you just arrive on the island?”
“This afternoon,” Inessa said.
“And is this your first time on the island?”
“It is,” I replied and added one of the Russian sentences I’d practiced specifically for this trip. “I’ve always heard how beautiful Baikal is, but… I’m still in awe.”
“It’s a true miracle,” the old man chuckled. “I hope you enjoy your time here.”
“I’m sure we will,” I said.
“The only thing that didn’t belong was the dacha we just saw,” Inessa said and pointed vaguely over her shoulder. “I mean, it was just ugly.”
The old man’s expression shifted from open and friendly to closed and suspicious in a heartbeat. He took two steps away from us like he’d suddenly remembered he had somewhere to be, but he stopped and glared at us for another second or so.
