StroganovStorm seasons had not been kind to the stone visage of Ivan Bolotnikov. The lashing winds and scouring dust weathered away many details on the sculptured face, and smears of hungry lichens made the old Russian warrior look as if he had a skin disease.
Stroganov stood among his sculptures with another bucket of sulfurous mud and ash drawn from the steaming pit deep within the volcano. Subvocalizing the words of a bar song, he made repairs where they seemed most necessary before the next storm came.
Bolotnikov was the first monument Stroganov had con-structed up on the mountain, just after Boris Tiban led them to their new home. The adins had felt quite proud of themselves back then, sixteen hard years and many deaths ago. They marched up the side of the volcano, cocky after havin
