The Twelfth Department by William Ryan

voice—not for the children’s ears, nor Vera’s either. No one must have told the elephants that belts needed to be tightened if they were to complete the Five Year Plan in record time. Or maybe elephants weren’t subject to the Five Year Plan. Perhaps they worked to a completely different schedule of industrial development—one that allowed them to guzzle as many carrots as they wanted to.
    At Vera’s suggestion a young keeper, a bit of an athlete it seemed, persuaded the largest of the beasts to rear its head back and took a hold of her tusks, before using them to do chin-ups. The keeper looked over to the children, proud of his bulging biceps no doubt, and Korolev found that his mouth had curled with disdain of its own accord. He rearranged it into what he hoped might be a polite smile.
    “Look, Mama—look,” Natasha squealed, delighted by the buffoon.
    “Do you see him?” Yuri said, turning to Korolev to point him out as well. Korolev nodded approvingly, although his instinct was to go over and give the fellow a good shake. Not least because it seemed to him that the rascal wasn’t performing for the children, but rather for Valentina. And that sly smile he’d pasted on his handsome face had more than a suggestion of charming sweet-nothings about it, damn him.
    “Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen,” the children counted and with each number Korolev’s mood darkened further. It was a shame elephants weren’t carnivorous, really—it would be upsetting for the children, of course, but they’d recover in time. Children were surprisingly resilient to that kind of thing.
    Korolev decided it was best to turn away before he said something unfortunate and, as he did so, he spotted none other than Count Kolya, Chief Authority of the Moscow Thieves, standing on the other side of the small square, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
    Korolev couldn’t believe his eyes for a moment—but it was Kolya all right, and the Thief wasn’t only looking right back at him, he was waving him over.
    It occurred to Korolev that it would be unusual for Kolya to be out on his own and, sure enough, a quick glance around the environs revealed little Mishka, Kolya’s right-hand man, sitting in companionable silence with an outsized fellow, just past the polar bears. There’d be others nearby as well, he didn’t doubt—Kolya wasn’t a man who liked to take unnecessary risks.
    Korolev said nothing to Valentina and the children, who anyway were all still beaming at the damned elephant keeper, and took a stroll over to Kolya, taking his time about it and allowing his gaze to wander over the surroundings—just in case.
    The Thief nodded as he approached and Korolev was struck by how much older Kolya looked than when he’d last seen him—but the dark eyes were as intense as ever, and his presence just as menacing. Kolya might pretend gregariousness when it suited him, but he hadn’t become overlord of the criminal clans through charm alone.
    “Korolev, it’s nice to see you in the company of friends. I worry about your solitary existence sometimes.”
    Kolya spoke quietly, almost as if he were sincere.
    “I worry about you too, Kolya. I worry about how you’ll fare in the Zone.”
    “In the Zone? I think you know how I’ll fare,” Kolya said, shrugging. “I’ll do just fine—a prison camp is like a holiday for me.”
    Korolev took the opportunity to scan the area around them once again—it wouldn’t be healthy for him if he was seen chatting away to a man wanted for any number of criminal acts. It was just the kind of meeting that could be misconstrued these days.
    “How did you get in here, anyway?”
    “I have acquaintances in strange places, Korolev—and not only you, either. Don’t worry, we were careful. I wanted to talk to you and when it turned out you were coming here, I made my way over. I wasn’t far away.”
    Korolev glanced over at Mishka. He hadn’t looked for a tail earlier, but it was