White Snow Over Red Square
Белый снег над Красной площадью
(Originally published on January 2013)
“Hey, do you believe Ded Moroz exists?”
“Dunno,” Nadya shrugged. “You know....”
“Oh, yeah,” Artem laughed. Looking at Nadya, he almost forgot that they both had never been kids, although there were the “childhood memories” slipped inside their memories as anticipation—in case other people wanted to chat with them about their childhood.
“But seems like fun if Ded Moroz really visits our homes and give us New Year’s presents, right?”
“Come it off, Artyosha, we’re adults. Impossible! It’s more plausible that we would have to play Ded Moroz and Snegurochka to please the kids,” Nadya rebutted.
“You’re too serious,” Artem frowned as he stared out the metro’s windows. Okhotny Ryad Station was close by.
“By the way, Nadya, sorry we’re only on metro today.”
“No problem. Moreover, if we really are planning to spend all night outside, we could have been trapped and unable to get out of the parking lot, even if we park behind GUM. What time do you want to reach home that way?”
They laughed. Every New Year’s Eve, a large crowd would form in Red Square for various reasons. Some wanted to date and spend the night with the loved ones, some others just wanted to skate in the rink right in front of GUM, a small part took a group picture in front of the large tree of lights not so far off the rink, and there were even kids who asked their parents to get them to meet Ded Moroz to make their wish.
Artem and Nadya were just out of Bolshoi Theatre, where they watched the opera Eugene Onegin starting 2pm that afternoon. At first Nadya thought they were only going to watch that opera, but seemed like Artem had another plan. He took her out for dinner again, and then, like the first day they decided to start a relationship, they would skate together at GUM’s skating rink until well into the night.
“So, where to dine? Stolovaya or Bosco Cafe?”
“Whichever,” Nadya gave him a wide grin, showing her line of white teeth. “Moreover, you’re paying.”
Artem looked deep into her eyes and started pulling her woolen mittens playfully.
“Come on, Nadya....”
“Right, okay, we’re off to Bosco Cafe. We can hit Stolovaya on Old New Year’s Eve, and I won’t let you treat me again then,” she coldly replied.
“You! Before this, you’ve been treating me every so often, right? It’s New Year’s Eve anyway, so it’s alright for me to treat you out at an expensive resto, okay?”
Nadya only chuckled. Artem looked out the window and searched his coat’s pocket. There, he kept a slender black box with white ribbon: his present for Nadya.
Shortly after, the metro stopped in Okhotny Ryad Station, not so far off Kremlin.
“We’ll drop by the ticket office of the rink, then we’ll get to Bosco Cafe. Okay?”
Nadya nodded and smiled at him. They rushed out of the metro station and walked their way to GUM. Snow had been falling since they walked out of Bolshoi Theatre, and it started to turn Moscow white, getting heavier each moment. Vaguely, people could be heard moaning and worrying the fireworks launch at midnight would be cancelled due to snow if it didn’t stop soon enough.
But, it was not the true cause of the buzz in Red Square.
Where’s Ded Moroz?
Children sniveled, some running around the tall tree of lights right in front of GUM’s skating rink. Even when Nadya waited outside the long line for Artem as he ordered two tickets for 10pm, she saw a little girl with red face and swelling eyes from crying approaching her.
“Tyotenka, where is Ded Moroz?”
Nadya looked around. No sign of anyone clad in red—or blue—coat with white fur hat, long white beard, and walking stick around there. Not wanting to destroy her expectations, she tried to make up reasons without having to lie.
“Probably he’s walking around on the other side of Red Square, devochka,” Nadya soothed the girl’s blond hair gently and pointed at St. Basil’s Cathedral in the distance. “This is a vast place. He could be saying hi to children over there.”
Artem returned right when the girl went off to be back with her parents, who were still standing not far away from there.
“Nadya, what happened? Was she lost?”
“For shame! She only asked where Ded Moroz was.”
“Oh,” Artem looked around and searched for the Old Man Winter, who always greets children on the New Year. He winced. Usually, there would be at least one person waddling around in Ded Moroz’s costume in Red Square—even there were five people playing Ded Moroz there last year!—yet, he hadn’t seen any.
“Right. Usually there’d be at least one Ded Moroz here, but why not at all? It’s getting late...”
“Nobody knows,” Nadya shrugged.
Artem put the tickets he had been holding for some time into his pocket, took Nadya by the arm and led her into GUM, but even by the entrance, children still echoed the same question, confused and starting to become desperate.
Where’s Ded Moroz?
Christmas-themed music and lively decor, complete with lights and trees every several meters, welcomed them as they walked in—the ambience always present in every New Year, since most Russians don’t celebrate Christmas on December 25 and put up decorated trees for New Year’s celebrations instead. In some places, not far off the trees, there were strings of lights arranged to form the sentence “S novym GUM-om”—portmanteau of “S novym godom” (Happy New Year) and GUM—hanging under red and white ribbons. Nadya giggled when she noticed it.
They hadn’t been enjoying the ambience for long enough when a drunk guy clad in an open coat lined with white fur, his hat slipping off his head, and the smell of vodka rising out from his fake beard jumped out from behind one of the trees. Nearby, a wooden walking stick was on the floor, discarded by its owner.
Ded Moroz?
He then started singing with such unpleasant voice and vague lyrics as he danced on the tree like a poledancer. His moves began to grow suggestive and he suddenly pulled off his coat, throwing it towards Artem, who didn’t even give it a chance to touch him. He was already hiding behind Nadya, grimacing with fear. Some parents who were walking by with their children quickly covered the poor kids’ eyes.
A small family passed by Artem and Nadya. They could hear the child asking, “Daddy, that—Ded Moroz?”
“Nope. That’s just a drunkard uncle who had too much vodka and thinks he is Ded Moroz.”
“So, where’s the real Ded Moroz?”
Nadya bitterly chuckled. Artem sighed as he stared at the security officers dragging away the drunken actor from the scene.
“Those poor children,” he took Nadya’s arms again and continued making their way to Bosco Cafe.
They arrived at the cafe with classic Italian-style interior only to find almost every table was full. Out of the two tables left, they opted for the table next to the window. While they wait for their orders, they both stared at the crowd outside, with the red wall of Kremlin and still-falling white snow as the backdrop.
Children were still seen wandering around, questioning the same thing to every adult near them. Muted by snow and interfered by noises from inside, Artem and Nadya could still hear their little voices.
Where’s Ded Moroz?
“Poor children,” Nadya shook her head. “Obviously the Ded Moroz they want to meet is not the drunkard who think the tree was a pole for poledancing. But, why did nobody come in place of that drunkard?”
“Probably in a little while,” Artem cracked a thin smile. Something else started to creep in his mind. He only tore the bread over his bowl of zuppa soup and stirred the soup inside for the next several minutes.
“Um … Artyosha? What’s wrong?”
Nadya’s voice startled him, to the point that his spoon slipped off his hand.
“Ah, ne-nevazhno, Nadya,” he rushingly answered.
Nadya fixed her eyes on his and began staring closer at him. He gave up and took a deep breath before he started speaking.
“Those children,” he opened, “they’re just... adorable. I think everyone wants to have children of their own, too. But...” Artem shrugged. “We’re different. No matter how we want it so badly, we just can’t.”
Nadya wasn’t taking her eyes off Artem yet, but something changed from the way she looked. The usual brightness in her eyes dimmed down.
“Even if we can, how would he grow? We—and he too—can’t grow like other living organisms,” he whispered so others wouldn’t hear it. “From there on, there would only be what-ifs in each and every point of our worries.”
Nadya stayed silent for a while. She knew exactly what sort of consequences androids have to get through. They may get married with other androids for now—there still are possibilities that they will later be able to marry humans. Yet, reproductive challenges will still exist until sufficient technology to create a very humanoid android—growing, developing, able to have offsprings—are developed, and that would involve large interventions in their programs and operating systems.
“I understand,” she answered faintly as she sipped her peppermint tea.
“Oh—sorry, Nadya.”
“No, really. I do, Artyosha.”
The situation grew awkward as the silence elongated. They just finished off their food instead of chatting casually like common lovers.
Suddenly, a ray of light flashed from behind them.
“Artyosha? What was that?”
They turned and searched for the source of the flash outside the window. The figure of a tall man in red coat with furry white edges walked out from behind the huge tree in front of the skating rink. A sivler star emitted a bluish white light from the top of his walking stick, and people could hear his signature laughter as he walked: “Ho-ho, ho-ho-ho!”
“Nadya, look—Ded Moroz!”
“Yes,” a smile formed on Nadya’s face, “seems like he is the Ded Moroz they are after.”
Children ran to the Ded Moroz they had been waiting for. Behind Ded Moroz, Snegurochka—the snow princess in a long blue and silver coat, the granddaughter and assistant of the Old Man Winter—followed.
“Hey, there’s Snegurochka too,” Artem commented.
Within moments, the two winter fairytale figures were surrounded by happy children. Ded Moroz slightly ducked, asking the children to stay in line and patiently wait for their turn. Snegurochka pulled out her small bag of chocolate candies and small toys, and then started distributing it to the good children who would patiently wait.
Looking at the whole thing, Artem scooted closer to Nadya and put his hand over hers.
How delightfully sweet.
Artem made a face as he glanced at the grandfather clock near another window. Almost ten. Their skating session would soon start, and that cafe would soon close as well, along with almost every other shop in GUM. Despite it being New Year’s Eve, as usual, there would only be three places open until midnight in GUM: gastronome, movie theatre, and skating rink.
“Come on.”
He led her out through the door that directly connects the cafe to the Red Square. The snow had piled up thick enough to record the foot marks of people passing by. Children still formed a small crowd, although some had gone home with their parents.
Upon arrival to GUM’s skating rink, Nadya put her skates on before swiftly helping Artem with his skates too. Seemed like Artem forgot not to tie both pairs of his skates’ laces too tight after the last time they went skating together.
Then, a loud whistle, followed by blue and white lights banging right over the arena and the cheering children. Not so big, but very pretty. Artem searched for the source of the fireworks.
He glanced at Ded Moroz and Snegurochka, both still attending to the children under the tree.
“Do it again, Snegurochka! Again!”
Snegurochka held her palm up towards the sky above the arena and shot a ray of white light, the same high-pitched whistling followed. The small ray became a ball of light that exploded mid-air, forming a bright blue spiral edged by smaller red pops.
Artem was stunned. He plucked on Nadya’s sleeves.
“How could she...?”
Nadya watched as Snegurochka repeated the trick. At a glance people might think she was only giving a code to the fireworks operator hiding somewhere behind the tree or some other trick, but no! The fireworks shot out of a small cleft inside the creases of Snegurochka’s palm, disguised by her sleeve’s furry edges.
Snegurochka—she’s an android.
“What pretty fireworks, Snegurochka! Come on, again!”
This time Snegurochka only chuckled and started giving away small gifts to children still gathering around her and Ded Moroz. Some kids, having already made their wish, tried to reach for the brightly shining silver star at the top of Ded Moroz’s walking stick.
Artem glanced at Nadya when only two or three children were left.
“Now?”
Nadya laughed. “What are you waiting for?”
Soon, the two began skating on the bright rink decorated by colorful lights, racing to reach the big billboard with the rink’s name. Artem was quite agile, but an amateur lady who was pushing a handled penguin statue almost hit him, giving Nadya a chance to glide past him.
Within a short distance from the billboard, some pros in glittery attires were twirling and dancing in pairs on ice.
“You wanna try twirling like that?”
“Fine,” Artem quickly held Nadya’s hand and they started to twirl slowly, finding the most stable position for each.
“Huh, how slow,” Nadya sneered as she sped up a little. Just minutes since they started, Artem skidded and fell on the ice. Some people around them chuckled, some said “Too bad”, and the pros, still dancing gracefully on ice, only giggled to see it.
With a frown on his face, he got up and led Nadya along the edges of the rink as it grew more crowded, despite the fact that night was growing late—moreover many wanted to spend the last night of the year there.
“Nadezhda Aleksandrovna!”
Nadya quickly turned, for there would hardly be anyone calling her name with the patronym. Another android girl she got to know at the lab—a modified N-1 prototype who just got activated when she herself was already working at a TV station—stood by the rink, right behind her, dressed in a coat just like Snegurochka’s.
“Alisa? You—“
“Yes,” Alisa, the Snegurochka girl, smiled. “Hearing the incident this afternoon, Vadim and I called the GUM management and they allowed us to take over. You know, kids will be disappointed if they don’t meet Ded Moroz and Snegurochka on New Year’s Eve, right?”
“I thought you work for Novaya Opera,” Nadya leaned her body over the fence surrounding the rink.
“My job for the season is all done. Plus, Vadim is off work and he kindly made me this modification,” Alisa pointed at the small cleft from which she launched the fireworks.
“So, that Old Man Winter...?”
“That’s him,” Alisa laughed. “Fits him perfectly, eh? He’s old, indeed.”
“So it was you guys,” Nadya laughed. “Oh, by the way, Alisa, you remember Artyosha?”
“Sure. Long time no see, Artem Yuryevich,” she politely greeted. Artem nodded, playing cool as he skated nearby. But, the cool image he built was destroyed in seconds when another rookie skater—this time a panda-pushing teenager—hit him again. Nadya’s laughter burst, and Alisa giggled. Artem moved away, his face completely red.
“What a shame,” he moaned. “Alisa—where’s Vadim?”
“He’s renting skates,” Alisa glanced at the skates rent. “At least without that silly fake beard, walking stick, excessive blush-on and a pillow tied to his belly, he looks quite acceptable now.”
“What? So that Ded Moroz was Vadim?” Artem laughed out loud. “Damn, thought he was a real old chap!”
“What freaking old chap?! It was only fate that I was the first to be developed among us four,” Vadim blurted as he appeared behind Alisa with two pairs of skates. “Artyosha and Nadya—how’s your TV job?”
“Just like that. You sometimes see Artyosha on the screen, right? I spend more time behind the scene,” she answered.
“Nadya’s a great producer,” Artem proudly smiled.
They continued chatting for another while and skated together, until it was almost time for the rink to close for ice resurfacing and they parted. Artem pulled Nadya under the grand entrance of GUM, planning to spend time until the countdown and the big fireworks that would be launched from behind St. Basil’s Cathedral.
“No more kids here,” Artem whispered.
“You should propose to move to the children’s show department,” Nadya joked.
“Probably,” Artem bitterly chuckled. “But... seriously, I want children of my own too. I—I don’t know if a standard model like you also have the same want on your system. You know, like Vadim, I’m pretty much experimental.”
“Artyosha... I think there is.”
Artem was stunned.
“Looks like the pioneers of N-1 series development had made our programs too human. The good side, we blend in very well. The bad side... you know,” she softly whimpered. “And from what the registrar knows of us in the data, seems like we’re still unable to do what our ‘parents’ did for us yet.”
“Adoption?”
“Sorta. Maybe we should wait.”
Snow began to pile up higher in GUM’s facade, and snow cleaners began going back and forth again to clear it. The cold winter night’s air crept into Nadya’s coat. Feeling a bit awkward, she moved closer to Artem, but she didn’t anticipate when the young man pulled her close and shared his big, thick coat with her.
“I envy Vadim and Alisa. They brought back the magic of New Year here. Those kids—they were so happy...”
“We don’t have to be Ded Moroz and Snegurochka to make children happy. We just need to... find our own way.”
Artem glanced at the large clock mounted on the high-rising Spasskaya Tower behind the red Kremlin wall. One minute left before the change of year. He secretly hoped for some so-called miracle of the New Year, either in the last seconds of the old year or later in the incoming one. He searched his coat’s left pocket for the present he wanted to give Nadya.
All over Red Square, everyone’s gaze was all directed to St. Basil’s Cathedral. Tension began to rise as the countdown started.
Ten! Nine! Eight!
Nadya and Artem exchanged glances, smiled at each other, and started counting down as well. The voices grew louder as the numbers shrunk.
Three! Two! One!
Rays of light flashed through the air, against the cold snowfall. With the booming sounds and cheering crowds, colorful fireworks shone upon Moscow’s skies. There were plenty of people taking out their cameras to snap pictures of the spectacular view.
Artem pulled out the slender box, which had stayed in his pocket since ever, and covered Nadya’s eyes with his right hand.
“Oi!”
“One minute,” Artem quickly cut as he inserted his gift box into Nadya’s sweater pocket beneath her short coat, then he let his hand off her eyes. “Nah, okay, now see what you have in your sweater’s pocket.”
Nadya reached into her pocket and found Artem’s gift there.
“Now, open,” he smiled. Nadya shrugged and opened the box. Colorful reflections of the fireworks’ light caught her eyes before she saw what was inside: a silver necklace with snowflake-shaped pendant, adorned with some gems. Artem took the necklace out from its box and put it around the young lady’s neck.
“How beautiful,” she whispered. “Spasibo, Artyosha!”
Soon, she was reminded of her present for Artem and quickly reached for her handbag. She pulled out a black velvet box with gold accents on the edges of its top surface.
“My turn,” she smiled and handed the box to Artem, who immediately opened it. The young man couldn’t resist laughing when he saw what Nadya gave him.
“Oh, you, Nadya,” he still laughed even as he wore the watch around his left wrist. “I was actually just joking when I told you I wanted a new water-resistant watch for New Year! You took it seriously, huh....”
“Ha! So you didn’t like it?”
“No, no, I love this! Spasibo bol’shoe,” Artem smiled and tightly embraced Nadya. The young woman’s face turned red, like the firework just blown off above Red Square.
Suddenly, their cell phones vibrated at the same time. A short message from the laboratory that developed them just went in, containing an information of the possibility for developing type N-1a, a similarly designed android shaped like a child and would be expected to grow—although probably not picture-perfect yet—and the inquiry for consent to be involved and be adoptive parents of the N-1a prototype when testing time is due.
“Maybe it would be in a couple more years or so,” Artem mouthed. His face grew red instantly. “But, I guess this is the miracle of the New Year for us. And, by ‘us’... uh, I mean....”
Nadya laughed. “Sounds a bit rushed, but why not?”
Artem held her even closer and tighter. Under the light, white snowflakes still falling in Red Square, they got their own share of miracles, although it would still need more time.
“S novym godom, Nadezhda Aleksandrovna.”
Nadya smiled ear-to-ear as she answered his whispered greeting, “S novym godom… Artem Yuryevich.”
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