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Victor Pelevin / Hermit and Sixfinger
Translated from Russian by Serge Winitzki and Sergey Bratus © 1996
1
"Get lost."
"???"
"Like I said, get lost. Let me watch."
"But what is it you are watching"
"Oh God, what an idiot... The Sun, OK?"
Sixfinger looked up from the black turf covered with food, sawdust and peatcrumbs. He
squinted and stared upward.
"Well... We live and live — but what for? A mystery of ages. And did anybody even begin to
grasp the thin, thread-like nature of the suns?"
The stranger turned his head and stared at Sixfinger with disdainful curiosity.
"Sixfinger," he immediately introduced himself.
"I am called Hermit," the stranger answered. "Do they say that in your Socium? About the
thin, thread-like nature?"
"It's not 'my Socium' any more," Sixfinger said and suddenly whistled: "Look at that!"
"What?" Hermit asked suspiciously.
"There, look! A new sun just appeared!"
"So what?"
"In the center of the world it never happens. Three suns together..."
Hermit chuckled condescendingly.
"Once I saw eleven at once. One was in the zenith and five more in each epicycle. Although
it wasn't around here."
"Where was it then?" Sixfinger asked.
Hermit kept silence. Turning away, he went aside and chopped off with his foot a piece of
food from the ground, and ate. A gentle warm breeze and the reflection of the two suns in
grayish-green planes of the distant horizon made for such a serene and sad mood that the
ponderous Hermit twitched when he saw Sixfinger again.
"You are back. What do you want now?"
"I just... wanted to talk."
"Well, but I think you are stupid," Hermit answered. "You'd better go back to the Socium.