el.angeleyes-第37节
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Irina wanted to burn this Natasha Mayakova with her eyes； although she could not quite understand why she should be so enraged。 What could Valeri Bondasenko mean to her now？ Nothing； she told herself firmly。 Nevertheless； she had been tense all through the first act； and when intermission came； she embraced it with a profound sense of relief。
〃Well； my parents can be trying at times；〃 Mars said； 〃although I suppose I would be the only one aware of it。〃
〃You look very much like your mother；〃 Irina said。 〃There is a strength about her； a sense of her family and of herself that I admire tremendously。 I'm afraid I'll never get around to the one； and I'm not very good at the other。〃
''Perhaps you're not one to settle down；'' Mars said。 ''I sense in you a restlessness of spirit。''
They spoke for a time about mundane things： the play； the production； the acting。 Irina mentioned that Natasha Mayakova had played her namesake in the play； wanting perhaps to discover if Mars found her attractive； but all she got was a non…mittal answer。 Mars made a joke and Irina laughed； but she was suddenly very unfortable。 In a moment of sheer panic she realized that she had been contemplating blurting out her secret： her involvement with Valeri； seeing him on the street with the
actress； Natasha Mayakova； her feelings of betrayal。 What would Mars think if he knew she was betraying him in much the same way？
But； of course； that was different。 She had not made any promises to Mars nor had she claimed purity。 She had never lied to him； although she had no illusions that； sooner or later； she would be pelled to do so。
What she was doing was for herself； for Irina Viktorovna Ponomareva。 Or was it？ Had she been doing nothing but rationalizing to herself about her betrayal of Mars to Valeri？ Because betrayal it was。 It hadn't bothered her three days ago； but that had been before Mars had taken her home to his family； before she had seen how little Valeri thought of his relationship with her。 Before it became clear how thoroughly Valeri was using her。
Now； she thought； everything's changed。
She looked at Mars Volkov as if for the first time； drawing aside the scrims of her own anger； selfishness； and power lust。 What she saw was a very down…to…earth man； handsome； desirable； who； despite his immense charm； had to struggle in the Politburo and the People's Congress against the immense power of Valeri Bondasenko。 A man who； unlike Valeri； was not obsessed with power； with imprinting his conception of the world on everyone around him； with power as the only consideration or form of currency。
One day； she thought； Mars would even be the head of his own family； and that would be enough to make him content。 That idea made her feel warm and fortable。
And； with that truth； came another one： it wasn't her own freedom that Valeri had offered her when he had enrolled her in his scheme to get inside Mars's mind； but a chance to take on a measure of his； Valeri's； own sins。
〃Chekhov always sets me to thinking；〃 Irina said； not only because it was the truth； but because she was determined to cover her unease。 〃I suppose that's because his plays are like modern paintings； they seem somehow unfinished or； at any rate； about such familiar themes they require your own participation to flesh them out。''
〃But it wasn't really Chekhov that seemed to interest you；〃 Mars said。 〃It was the actress； Natasha something； isn't it？〃
〃I don't know her name；〃 Irina lied。 〃I was just curious。 She's a type； men often find actresses appealing； and I wanted a man's point of view。〃
〃Too much makeup；〃 Mars said as they were called in for the start of the second act。 〃I wouldn't know what she really looked like beneath all that paint。〃
The blue light from Vosstaniya Square filtered through the windows of Mars's bedroom。 It was deep enough into the night so that the building's gastronome was closed and the cinema marquee below was dark。 The sky was low with thick； metallic…looking clouds； and although it was late spring； there was a feeling in the air of snow that was somehow melancholy。 Or perhaps； Irina thought as she undressed； it was the play that has depressed me。 Of course； it can't possibly have been the sight of Natasha Mayakova。
She had been half hoping to run into Valeri at the performance； and now she wondered whether that had been her motivation for buying the tickets。 Perhaps Stanislavsky would know； she thought wryly； but he was dead。 She only knew that visions of her smiling at Valeri while she was on Mars's arm had filled her head all afternoon。 Now that it hadn't happened； she felt deflated； empty。 There was a bitter taste in her mouth； as if she had somehow taken a bite out of the clouds wreathing Moscow。 And she could not figure out why。 Here she was； with Mars； who could give her everything she ever wanted…well； almost everything…and yet her mind was filled with Valeri。 Right now the man she wanted was Valeri…she wanted nothing more than to cleave herself to Valeri's musky body； twine her thighs around his； open herself to him。
She shuddered； frightened at the intensity of her emotions。 It was as if she could no longer control her feelings。 Did she love Mars？ Then how could she still be lusting after Valeri？ How could she still be jealous of his relationship with Natasha？ What was happening inside her？
When she got into this situation she had been certain of who was right and who was wrong。 She had allowed Valeri to co…opt her； partly because… Oh； he was so right about her！…he had made her see that she was more than a drone； one worker among many； undistinguished； unappreciated。 It was so exciting to feel wanted by such a powerful man as Valeri Bondasenko。 And then when he had so cleverly shown her that she could have more； that she could share in his power； she had been all too eager to do what he asked： spy on Mars。
But that was before she had соmе to know Mars； before he had begun to share his private life with her。 Now he seemed to be a wholly different person from the one she had set out to seduce。 Now she felt ashamed of how she was betraying Mars to Valeri； and this shame caused her to be in constant turmoil； as if she could not relax even for a moment。 She thought； My God； I'm headed for a nervous breakdown。 And that frightened her even more； because then neither Mars nor Valeri would want her； and she would once again bee nothing in her utter isolation。 Now she felt as if only she…Irina Ponomareva…was in the wrong。 Which way should she turn； to Valeri or to Mars？ God help her； she did not know。
She felt Mars behind her。 〃What is it with you and windows？ '' he said。 ''You're like a cat who loves to stare at nothing。 What is it you see out there that I cannot？〃
Irina turned around。 〃I was just thinking。〃
Mars searched her face。 〃This sounds serious。 It's too late in me night to be serious； koshka。'' Darling。 What Valeri had called Natasha Mayakova。
〃Don't you think that the darkness makes us more serious； more melancholy； sometimes？〃
''I don't know。'' Mars cocked his head to one side。 She could see that he was curious about her train of thought。 ''I often do my best thinking at night。〃
〃There。 You see？〃
〃But it's the quiet；〃 he said。 〃The intimation of sleep all around me。〃
〃And when at last you do sleep。 Mars； what is it you dream of？〃
〃Electronic sheep；'' he said。 ''Powered by miniature nuclear reactors。〃
She could see； then； that he was making fun of her； but gently； trying to deflate her seriousness。
He gathered her into his arms。 〃What's gotten into you？ Ever since we went to see Chekhov； you seem to have picked up his brooding soul。 Is something the matter？ Perhaps I can help。 I'd like to help you； Irina。〃 He put his lips close to her ear。 〃Do you know that my family has disapproved of every woman I have ever brought home。 Everyone except you。 My whole family loves you； Irina。〃
Irina felt a tingling； as if his words had galvanized her spirit。 She found that she was holding her breath； she wondered if he could feel the thundering of her heart。
〃I care so much for you。〃
She felt weak in the knees； as if he was saying in real life what she had dreamed about ever since he had taken her home to meet his family。 A family； she thought…what I wouldn't give to have a father； a mother who knew and loved me。
She allowed him to draw her away from the window； the kind of precaution against electronic eavesdropping he did without conscious thought。 He took her down the hall and into the bathroom。 He turned on the tub taps。 There was even hot water。
Naked； they climbed in together； letting the hot water chum around them。 The background of splashing water had a soothing effect。 They sat face to face； their legs around each other。
He laughed softly； kissed the tip of her nose。 〃You see； Irina； I have an overpowering urge to trust you。 That's a dangerous urge for one in my position in government； someone who has such a powerful enemy in Valeri Denysovich。 But lately I find I want to tell you things I'd never dare tell another soul。 Crazy； isn't it？〃 His lips came down over hers； crushing them； opening them。 Irina gave a little moan。
〃Not crazy；'' Irina whispered； her eyes half c
