CHAPTER 1 - Never Talk with Strangers
At sunset near Patriarch’s Ponds, Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz, a forty‑year‑old literary editor, and his young poet companion Ivan Nikolaevich Ponyrev (Homeless) stop at a deserted drink stand. They order apricot soda, which produces yellow foam and a barber‑shop smell; after drinking they begin hiccupping. Berlioz suddenly feels his heart stop, sees a tall, transparent, checkered‑jacketed figure, panics, then the apparition vanishes. Shaken, they discuss an anti‑religious poem Berlioz had commissioned from Homeless about Jesus. Berlioz cites ancient historians (Philo, Josephus) and dismisses Tacitus’s passage as interpolation, trying to prove Jesus never existed. Their conversation drifts through myths of Osiris, Tammuz, Marduk, and the Aztec god Vitz‑lip‑utzli.
A strangely described man then appears on the promenade: tall, wearing a grey suit, grey beret, platinum and gold crowns on his teeth, a black‑knob stick, and mismatched eye colors. Both writers guess his nationality (German, English, French, Pole) and note his foreign demeanor. He sits between them, asks politely if they indeed claim that Jesus never existed, and confirms they are atheists. He then inquires about the five traditional proofs of God, dismisses them, mentions Kant’s proof, and mocks philosophers.
The foreigner proceeds to a bizarre philosophical exercise, asking how humanity can govern itself without a plan, illustrating with a hypothetical man who contracts cancer or is hit by a tram, suggesting an unseen master may govern destiny. He predicts Berlioz’s imminent death, specifying that a Komsomol girl will cut off his head, then asks what Berlioz will do that evening. Berlioz replies about a meeting at Massolit; the foreigner counters that the meeting will not occur because Annushka has spilled sunflower oil. The discussion grows heated, with Homeless accusing the stranger of being a spy and urging Berlioz to demand papers.
The stranger produces a gold cigarette case set with a diamond triangle, offers cigarettes, and reveals a business card, passport, and invitation to Moscow as a consultant. He claims to be a German professor, a polyglot, and a specialist in black magic, sent to sort ten‑century necromancer Gerbert of Aurillac manuscripts. When Berlioz asks about his field, the professor confirms he is a historian of black magic, then leans in and whispers that “Jesus did exist.” He repeats that no proof is needed, then begins a cryptic description of a white cloak with blood‑red lining and cavalry gait, foreshadowing an “interesting story at the Ponds” later that evening.