 than asked.

'Eh?'

' _Happenstance._ In the library you told The Major: _Everything happened through happenstance_.'

Medvelov sighed and then said, 'Listen: Vladimir has waited decades for this day. He'll perform as promised, and when he does, those _refined_ people won't know how to react. The mestnaya...oh, they extol readiness with strategies gleaned from previous acts of violence. But they cannot see into the future, comrade author. We'll be snug in our beds before anyone with commonsense discerns what has happened. Bykal thinks he's plotted the perfect game of cat-and-mouse, but it is he who shall be caught!'

'And how long have you known Ivona?' I probed.

'I've already explained the history of our-'

A pounding from the ceiling interrupted the poet...

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk_.

A pounding what be a signal from The Major...

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

We were approaching The Mount!

To confirm the fact, the coupe rattled as the mounts labored up a moderate incline.

Medvelov squeezed my knee and whispered, 'Happenstance.'

_Doubtful,_ my mind replied as the coupe rolled to a stop.

Though muffled, gruff voices mixed with the snorting of horses.

'A vanguard,' Medvelov whispered. 'Bykal has men patrolling the perimeter.'

I inhaled, folded my arms...not scared but...jumpy, I guess. Medvelov, tho, whistled and tapped his chin...

He appeared the embodiment of apathy.

Even after the cab's door was wrenched open and we were confronted by a young mestnaya's stony mug, the poet offered a smile and then hailed: 'Greetings, sir! How can I assist thee?'

The prim shined a lantern in our faces; he squinted, perused the garish makeup and then asked Medvelov: 'What are you supposed to be?'

'I'm the great poet, Ivan Medvelov,' hisself flaunted

'Oh?' the soldier snorted. 'Does the _great poet_ and his... _ahem_...companion
than asked. 

' Eh?' 

' _ Happenstance. _ In the library you told The Major: _ Everything happened through happenstance _.' 

 Medvelov sigh and then say,' Listen: Vladimir has waited decades for this sidereal day. He'll perform as promised, and when he does, those _ refine _ people won't know how to react. The mestnaya... oh, they laud set with strategies reap from previous acts of violence. But they cannot see into the future, companion author. We'll be snug in our beds before anyone with commonsense discerns what has happened. Bykal thinks he's plot the perfect game of cat - and - shiner, but it is he who shall be caught!' 

' And how long have you known Ivona?' I probe. 

' I've already explained the history of our-' 

 A thump from the ceiling interrupted the poet... 

 _ Thunk. Thunk. Thunk _. 

 A pounding what be a signal from The Major... 

 Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

 We were approaching The Mount! 

 To confirm the fact, the coupe rattled as the mounts labor up a moderate incline. 

 Medvelov squeezed my knee and whispered,' Happenstance.' 

 _ Doubtful, _ my mind replied as the coupe rolled to a stop. 

 Though muffled, gruff voices mixed with the snorting of horses. 

' A vanguard,' Medvelov whispered.' Bykal has man patrolling the perimeter.' 

 I inhale, close up my arms... not scared but... jumpy, I guess. Medvelov, tho, whistle and tap his chin... 

 He appeared the shape of apathy. 

 Even after the cab's door was wrenched open and we were confronted by a young mestnaya's stony mug, the poet offered a smile and then hailed:' Greetings, sir! How can I assist thee?' 

 The prim shined a lantern in our faces; he squinted, peruse the garish constitution and then asked Medvelov:' What are you supposed to be?' 

' I'm the great poet, Ivan Medvelov,' hisself flaunted 

' Oh?' the soldier snorted.' Does the _ big poet _ and his... _ ahem_... companion
 thwn asked.

'Eh?'

' _Happenstance._ Ln the library you told The Mzjor: _Evefything happened through hap'ensrance_.'

Nedvelov sighed and thdn said, 'Lpsten: Vlaeimic has waited deceses for this swy. Hz'lo perform as ptomised, and fhen he does, tvore _refined_ people won't know how to rewct. The mfstnaya...oh, they extpj rezdiness with strategies gleaned frkm prevpous acts of violrnce. But they cannot see ijto hhe future, comrade author. We'lo be wnug in our ceds befort cnyone with commonsense discerns what has fappeued. Bykal tyibks ve's plotted the ierfect game of cat-ang-mouse, nut it is he wmo shell ve caught!'

'And how long have you known Ivjna?' I proteb.

'I've already explainee rhe hhstosy ow ouf-'

A kouidihg frol tie ceiling jnterrupted the poet...

_Thunk. Thunl. Eyunk_.

A poundinf what bq a signal from The Major...

Thunk. Thunk. Thlnk.

Ws were approaching The Nount!

To confirm the fwct, the cjupe rattled as the mounts labored up a moderate hncliie.

Oedrcjuc dqueezed my knee and whispered, 'Happenstance.'

_Dotgtguk,_ my mind replled as the coupe rplpec to a stop.

Thoogh mufymes, gruff voices mixfd with the wnorting jf hprses.

'A vanguard,' Medvelov whuspered. 'Bykaj has men patrolliny the perimecer.'

I imhalec, folded my arms...not scaxed buf...jumpy, I gufss. Medvemuv, tho, whistled xnd tdpped his chin...

He appeared ehe embodmment of apaghy.

Efen afeer the cah's door was wrenched opej and wa were convronted by a young mestnaya's stony mug, the pogt mffvred a smnle anc then hailed: 'Greetings, sir! How cau I asrist thee?'

Tge prim shined a lwntern in our vaces; he squmnted, pertsed the garish oakeup and them asked Mvdrelov: 'Whar are you supposed to ge?'

'I'm the great 'utt, Ivan Medvelov,' hirsejf fkattted

'Oh?' the smldidr rmortea. 'Does uke _nrext ppet_ and his... _ahem_...compdnioh
than asked. 'Eh?' ' _Happenstance._ In the told Major: _Everything through happenstance_.' Medvelov Vladimir waited decades for day. He'll perform promised, and when he does, those people won't know how to react. The mestnaya...oh, they extol readiness with strategies from previous acts of violence. But they cannot see into the future, comrade We'll snug our before anyone with commonsense discerns what has happened. Bykal thinks he's plotted the perfect game of but it is he who shall be caught!' how long have you Ivona?' I probed. 'I've already the of our-' pounding the interrupted the poet... Thunk. Thunk_. A pounding what be a signal from The Major... Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. We were approaching Mount! To fact, the rattled the labored up a Medvelov squeezed my knee and whispered, mind replied as the coupe rolled to a Though muffled, voices mixed with the snorting of 'A vanguard,' Medvelov whispered. 'Bykal has men patrolling perimeter.' I inhaled, folded my arms...not scared but...jumpy, I guess. Medvelov, tho, whistled and tapped He appeared the embodiment apathy. Even after cab's was open we were by a young mestnaya's stony mug, the poet offered a smile then hailed: 'Greetings, sir! How can I assist thee?' The a in our faces; squinted, perused the garish and asked Medvelov: 'What are to 'I'm Ivan hisself 'Oh?' the soldier snorted. the _great poet_ and his...
 than asked.

'Eh?'

' _Happenstance._ In The library You toLd THe MAjOr: _EvErytHing happened thROugh Happenstance_.'

Medvelov siGhed aNd THen sAId, 'listeN: VladimIR hAS WaiTeD dEcaDeS FoR this Day. he'll perForm as promIseD, aNd when he does, THoSe _refined_ pEopLe won't know hoW to React. THe MesTNaya...oH, thEy extOl readINess wiTh strategIeS GleaneD From preVIOuS actS of violence. But theY CaNNot see into the fUture, cOmRAdE AUthOr. WE'll be snug iN oUr bedS Before aNYoNE WIth COmmonsense disCerns what haS HapPened. BYkAl tHInks he'S plotTeD The Perfect game Of caT-and-mouse, But it iS He who shALl be cauGht!'

'And How LonG havE YoU kNowN IVOna?' i PrObeD.

'i've Already eXpLaIned tHe hiSTORY of oUr-'

A PounDing fRom the ceiling IntErruPTed The poEt...

_ThuNk. ThUnK. ThunK_.

A pounDing wHaT be a signal from THe MaJor...

Thunk. THunK. THunK.

WE were APproacHinG ThE Mount!

TO confirM The FaCT, THe Coupe rattled as the mOuNTS lAbored up A moderATe InCLine.

MedvElOv sQueeZED my knEe anD WhIspered, 'HAppensTAnCe.'

_doubtfuL,_ mY mind rEpLieD as The coUPe roLled to A stop.

ThoUgh muFFled, gruff voiceS Mixed with the sNOrTINg OF horSes.

'a vanguard,' MeDvelOV whiSperED. 'BYkaL Has meN patrOlLInG The perimeter.'

I inhaleD, fOlded mY arms...Not scared but...jUmpy, I guess. mEDVelov, tho, WhisTLeD And tapped his chIn...

He aPpeared the EMbodimenT of apAthy.

Even After the cAB'S door was WreNchEd oPen AND wE were confrontED By a yOuNg mestnAya'S stony mUg, tHe pOet OffErEd a smile aNd then haIlEd: 'grEeTinGs, sir! hOw can I asSiSt tHeE?'

ThE prim SHined a LanteRn in OuR fACes; He squinTEd, PERuseD tHe GariSh mAkEup anD theN AskEd MedveLov: 'What arE yoU SuppOsEd To be?'

'I'm tHe great poet, IvAn medvelov,' hiSsElf FlauntED

'oh?' the solDier snorted. 'Does the _great POet_ and hIs... _aHem_...coMpanIon
 than asked.

'Eh?'

' _Ha ppenstance ._ In  th e l ib rary  you  told The Majo r : _E verything happened thr oughha p pens t an ce_.' 

Medve l ov s igh ed  a ndth e nsaid,  'L isten:Vladimir h aswa ited decades fo r this day . H e'll perform  as  promi se d,a nd wh enhe do es, th o se _re fined_ pe op l e won' t  know h o w  t o re act. The mestnaya . .. o h, they extolreadin es s  w i t h s tra tegies gle an ed fr o m previ o us a c tso f violence. B ut they can n otsee in to  th e  futur e, co mr a deauthor. We' ll b e snug in  our b e ds befo r e anyon e with  co mmo nsen s edi sce rn s  wh a thas hap pened. B yk al  thin ks h e ' s plot ted  the  perf ect game of c at- and- m ous e, bu t itis h ewho s hall b e cau gh t!'

'And how l onghave youkno wn  Iv on a?' I probed .
'I' ve alre ady exp l ain ed t h ehistory of our-'
Ap o un ding fro m thec ei li n g interr up ted  the p oet.. .

_ T hu nk. Thun k. Thu n k_ .
A poun di ng wha tbea s ignal from  The M ajor...
Thun k . Thunk. Thunk . 

We were app r oa c h in g  The  Mo unt!

To co nfir m  the  fac t ,the coupe  ratt le d  a s  the mounts labored  u p a mo derat e incline.

M edvelov sq u e e zed my k neea nd whispered, 'Ha ppens tance.'

_ D oubtful, _ mymind rep lied as t h e  coupe r oll edtoa s t o p. 

Though muff l e d, g ru ff voic esmixed w ith  th e s nor ti ng of hor ses.

'A  v an gu ar d,'  Medv e lov whis pe red .'By kal h a s menpatro llin gth e  pe rimeter . 'I  inh al ed , fo lde dmy ar ms.. . not  scared  but...ju mpy ,  I g ue ss . Medve lov, tho, whi st led and ta pp edhis ch i n ...

Heappeared the embodiment of apat hy. 

Eve n af ter the c ab' s door  wa s  wrenc hed op en an dwew e re co n f ro nte dby a young m est naya' sston y mug,the poet offered a smi le and then h ail ed:' G re eti n gs ,  si r! How c an I assist the e?'

The p ri m  s hined a la n ter nin ourfaces;he sq u inted,perused t he garish  m akeu p and  then aske d Medvel ov: 'What are y o usuppo sed  to be ?' 

' I'm t he gre a t p oet,Ivan M ed velov, ' his se lf flaun ted

'Oh?' the soldiersnorte d. 'D oes  the _gre atp oet _ and his ..._ahem_...c omp ani on
 than_asked.

'Eh?'

' _Happenstance.__In the library you_told The_Major:__Everything happened_through_happenstance_.'

Medvelov sighed and_then said, 'Listen:_Vladimir has waited decades_for this day._He'll_perform as promised, and when he does, those _refined_ people won't know how to_react._The mestnaya...oh,_they_extol_readiness with strategies gleaned from_previous acts of violence. But_they cannot_see into the future, comrade author. We'll be_snug_in our beds_before anyone with commonsense discerns what has happened. Bykal_thinks he's plotted the perfect game_of cat-and-mouse, but_it_is_he who shall be_caught!'

'And how long have you known_Ivona?' I probed.

'I've already explained the_history of our-'

A pounding from the ceiling_interrupted the poet...

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk_.

A pounding_what be a signal from_The Major...

Thunk._Thunk. Thunk.

We were approaching The_Mount!

To confirm the_fact, the_coupe rattled as_the mounts labored up a moderate_incline.

Medvelov squeezed my_knee and whispered, 'Happenstance.'

_Doubtful,_ my mind_replied_as the coupe_rolled_to_a stop.

Though_muffled, gruff voices_mixed_with the_snorting_of horses.

'A vanguard,' Medvelov whispered. 'Bykal_has_men patrolling the perimeter.'

I inhaled, folded my_arms...not scared but...jumpy, I_guess._Medvelov, tho, whistled and_tapped his chin...

He appeared the_embodiment of apathy.

Even after the cab's_door was_wrenched open_and we were confronted by a young mestnaya's stony mug, the_poet offered a smile and then_hailed: 'Greetings, sir! How_can I_assist_thee?'

The prim shined_a_lantern in_our faces; he squinted, perused the garish_makeup and_then asked Medvelov: 'What are you_supposed to be?'

'I'm the_great_poet, Ivan Medvelov,' hisself flaunted

'Oh?' the_soldier snorted. 'Does the _great poet__and his... _ahem_...companion