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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30338 ***
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction February 1961.
+  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright
+  on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+                               FREEDOM
+
+
+                           by MACK REYNOLDS
+
+
+                      Illustrated by Schoenherr
+
+
+     _Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so
+      catching--like a plague--even the doctors get it._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov tooled his Zil aircushion convertible along the edge
+of Red Square, turned right immediately beyond St. Basil's Cathedral,
+crossed the Moscow River by the Moskvocetski Bridge and debouched into the
+heavy, and largely automated traffic of Pyarnikskaya. At Dobryninskaya
+Square he turned west to Gorki Park which he paralleled on Kaluga until he
+reached the old baroque palace which housed the Ministry.
+
+There were no flags, no signs, nothing to indicate the present nature of
+the aged Czarist building.
+
+He left the car at the curb, slamming its door behind him and walking
+briskly to the entrance. Hard, handsome in the Slavic tradition,
+dedicated, Ilya Simonov was young for his rank. A plainclothes man, idling
+a hundred feet down the street, eyed him briefly then turned his attention
+elsewhere. The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes
+straight ahead. Colonel Simonov was in mufti and didn't answer the salute.
+
+The inside of the old building was well known to him. He went along marble
+halls which contained antique statuary and other relics of the past which,
+for unknown reason, no one had ever bothered to remove. At the heavy door
+which entered upon the office of his destination he came to a halt and
+spoke briefly to the lieutenant at the desk there.
+
+"The Minister is expecting me," Simonov clipped.
+
+The lieutenant did the things receptionists do everywhere and looked up in
+a moment to say, "Go right in, Colonel Simonov."
+
+Minister Kliment Blagonravov looked up from his desk at Simonov's
+entrance. He was a heavy-set man, heavy of face and he still affected the
+shaven head, now rapidly disappearing among upper-echelons of the Party.
+His jacket had been thrown over the back of a chair and his collar
+loosened; even so there was a sheen of sweat on his face.
+
+He looked up at his most trusted field man, said in the way of greeting,
+"Ilya," and twisted in his swivel chair to a portable bar. He swung open
+the door of the small refrigerator and emerged with a bottle of
+Stolichnaya vodka. He plucked two three-ounce glasses from a shelf and
+pulled the bottle's cork with his teeth. "Sit down, sit down, Ilya," he
+grunted as he filled the glasses. "How was Magnitogorsk?"
+
+Ilya Simonov secured his glass before seating himself in one of the room's
+heavy leathern chairs. He sighed, relaxed, and said, "Terrible, I loath
+those ultra-industrialized cities. I wonder if the Americans do any better
+with Pittsburgh or the British with Birmingham."
+
+"I know what you mean," the security head rumbled. "How did you make out
+with you assignment, Ilya?"
+
+Colonel Simonov frowned down into the colorlessness of the vodka before
+dashing it back over his palate. "It's all in my report, Kliment." He was
+the only man in the organization who called Blagonravov by his first name.
+
+His chief grunted again and reached forward to refill the glass. "I'm sure
+it is. Do you know how many reports go across this desk daily? And did you
+know that Ilya Simonov is the most long-winded, as the Americans say, of
+my some two hundred first-line operatives?"
+
+The colonel shifted in his chair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll keep that in
+mind."
+
+His chief rumbled his sour version of a chuckle. "Nothing, nothing, Ilya.
+I was jesting. However, give me a brief of your mission."
+
+Ilya Simonov frowned again at his refilled vodka glass but didn't take it
+up for a moment. "A routine matter," he said. "A dozen or so engineers and
+technicians, two or three fairly high-ranking scientists, and three or
+four of the local intelligentsia had formed some sort of informal club.
+They were discussing national and international affairs."
+
+Kliment Blagonravov's thin eyebrows went up but he waited for the other to
+go on.
+
+Ilya said impatiently, "It was the ordinary. They featured complete
+freedom of opinion and expression in their weekly get-togethers. They
+began by criticizing without extremism, local affairs, matters concerned
+with their duties, that sort of thing. In the beginning, they even sent a
+few letters of protest to the local press, signing the name of the club.
+After their ideas went further out, they didn't dare do that, of course."
+
+He took up his second drink and belted it back, not wanting to give it
+time to lose its chill.
+
+His chief filled in. "And they delved further and further into matters
+that should be discussed only within the party--if even there--until they
+arrived at what point?"
+
+Colonel Simonov shrugged. "Until they finally got to the point of
+discussing how best to overthrow the Soviet State and what socio-economic
+system should follow it. The usual thing. I've run into possible two dozen
+such outfits in the past five years."
+
+His chief grunted and tossed back his own drink. "My dear Ilya," he
+rumbled sourly, "I've _run into_, as you say, more than two hundred."
+
+Simonov was taken back by the figure but he only looked at the other.
+
+Blagonravov said, "What did you do about it?"
+
+"Several of them were popular locally. In view of Comrade Zverev's recent
+pronouncements of increased freedom of press and speech, I thought it best
+not to make a public display. Instead, I took measures to charge
+individual members with inefficiency in their work, with corruption or
+graft, or with other crimes having nothing to do with the reality of the
+situation. Six or seven in all were imprisoned, others demoted. Ten or
+twelve I had switched to other cities, principally into more backward
+areas in the virgin lands."
+
+"And the ringleaders?" the security head asked.
+
+"There were two of them, one a research chemist of some prominence, the
+other a steel plane manager. They were both, ah, unfortunately killed in
+an automobile accident while under the influence of drink."
+
+"I see," Blagonravov nodded. "So actually the whole rat's nest was stamped
+out without attention being brought to it so far as the Magnitogorsk
+public is concerned." He nodded heavily again. "You can almost always be
+depended upon to do the right thing, Ilya. If you weren't so confoundedly
+good a field man, I'd make you my deputy."
+
+Which was exactly what Simonov would have hated, but he said nothing.
+
+"One thing," his chief said. "The origin of this, ah, _club_ which turned
+into a tiny underground all of its own. Did you detect the finger of the
+West, stirring up trouble?"
+
+"No." Simonov shook his head. "If such was the case, the agents involved
+were more clever than I'd ordinarily give either America or Common Europe
+credit for. I could be wrong, of course."
+
+"Perhaps," the police head growled. He eyed the bottle before him but made
+no motion toward it. He wiped the palm of his right hand back over his
+bald pate, in unconscious irritation. "But there is something at work that
+we are not getting at." Blagonravov seemed to change subjects. "You can
+speak Czech, so I understand."
+
+"That's right. My mother was from Bratislava. My father met her there
+during the Hitler war."
+
+"And you know Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"I've spent several vacations in the Tatras at such resorts as Tatranski
+Lomnica since the country's been made such a tourist center of the
+satellites." Ilya Simonov didn't understand this trend of the
+conversation.
+
+"You have some knowledge of automobiles, too?"
+
+Simonov shrugged. "I've driven all my life."
+
+His chief rumbled thoughtfully, "Time isn't of essence. You can take a
+quick course at the Moskvich plant. A week or two would give you all the
+background you need."
+
+Ilya laughed easily. "I seem to have missed something. Have my
+shortcomings caught up with me? Am I to be demoted to automobile
+mechanic?"
+
+Kliment Blagonravov became definite. "You are being given the most
+important assignment of your career, Ilya. This rot, this ever growing
+ferment against the Party, must be cut out, liquidated. It seems to fester
+worse among the middle echelons of ... what did that Yugoslavian Djilas
+call us?... the _New Class_. Why? That's what we must know."
+
+He sat farther back in his chair and his heavy lips made a _mout_. "Why,
+Ilya?" he repeated. "After more than half a century the Party has attained
+all its goals. Lenin's millennium is here; the end for which Stalin purged
+ten millions and more, is reached; the sacrifices demanded by Khrushchev
+in the Seven-Year Plans have finally paid off, as the Yankees say. Our
+gross national product, our per capita production, our standard of living,
+is the highest in the world. Sacrifices are no longer necessary."
+
+There had been an almost whining note in his voice. But now he broke it
+off. He poured them still another drink. "At any rate, Ilya, I was with
+Frol Zverev this morning. Number One is incensed. It seems that in the
+Azerbaijan Republic, for one example, that even the Komsomols were
+circulating among themselves various proscribed books and pamphlets.
+Comrade Zverev instructed me to concentrate on discovering the reason for
+this disease."
+
+Colonel Simonov scowled. "What's this got to do with Czechoslovakia--and
+automobiles?"
+
+The security head waggled a fat finger at him. "What we've been doing,
+thus far, is dashing forth upon hearing of a new conflagration and
+stamping it out. Obviously, that's no answer. We must find who is behind
+it. How it begins. Why it begins. That's your job?"
+
+"Why Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"You're unknown as a security agent there, for one thing. You will go to
+Prague and become manager of the Moskvich automobile distribution agency.
+No one, not even the Czech unit of our ministry will be aware of your
+identity. You will play it by ear, as the Americans say."
+
+"To whom do I report?"
+
+"Only to me, until the task is completed. When it is, you will return to
+Moscow and report fully." A grimace twisted Blagonravov's face. "If I am
+still here. Number One is truly incensed, Ilya."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There had been some more. Kliment Blagonravov had evidently chosen Prague,
+the capital of Czechoslovakia, as the seat of operations in a suspicion
+that the wave of unrest spreading insidiously throughout the Soviet
+Complex owed its origins to the West. Thus far, there had been no evidence
+of this but the suspicion refused to die. If not the West, then who? The
+Cold War was long over but the battle for men's minds continued even in
+peace.
+
+Ideally, Ilya Simonov was to infiltrate whatever Czech groups might be
+active in the illicit movement and then, if he discovered there was a
+higher organization, a center of the movement, he was to attempt to become
+a part of it. If possible he was to rise in the organisation to as high a
+point as he could.
+
+Blagonravov, Minister of the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_, the
+Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-Revolution and Sabotage,
+was of the opinion that if this virus of revolt was originating from the
+West, then it would be stronger in the satellite countries than in Russia
+itself. Simonov held no opinion as yet. He would wait and see. However,
+there was an uncomfortable feeling about the whole assignment. The group
+in Magnitogorsk, he was all but sure, had no connections with Western
+agents, nor anyone else, for that matter. Of course, it might have been an
+exception.
+
+He left the Ministry, his face thoughtful as he climbed into his waiting
+Zil. This assignment was going to be a lengthy one. He'd have to wind up
+various affairs here in Moscow, personal as well as business. He might be
+away for a year or more.
+
+There was a sheet of paper on the seat of his aircushion car. He frowned
+at it. It couldn't have been there before. He picked it up.
+
+It was a mimeographed throw-away.
+
+It was entitled, _FREEDOM_, and it began: _Comrades, more than a hundred
+years ago the founders of scientific socialism, Karl Marx and Frederick
+Engels, explained that the State was incompatible with liberty, that the
+State was an instrument of repression of one class by another. They
+explained that for true freedom ever to exist the State must wither away._
+
+_Under the leadership of Lenin, Stalin, Krushchev and now Zverev, the
+State has become ever stronger. Far from withering away, it continues to
+oppress us. Fellow Russians, it is time we take action! We must...._
+
+Colonel Simonov bounced from his car again, shot his eyes up and down the
+street. He barely refrained from drawing the 9 mm automatic which nestled
+under his left shoulder and which he knew how to use so well.
+
+He curtly beckoned to the plainclothes man, still idling against the
+building a hundred feet or so up the street. The other approached him,
+touched the brim of his hat in a half salute.
+
+Simonov snapped, "Do you know who I am?"
+
+"Yes, colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov thrust the leaflet forward. "How did this get into my car?"
+
+The other looked at it blankly. "I don't know, Colonel Simonov."
+
+"You've been here all this time?"
+
+"Why, yes colonel."
+
+"With my car in plain sight?"
+
+That didn't seem to call for an answer. The plainclothesman looked
+apprehensive but blank.
+
+Simonov turned on his heel and approached the two guards at the gate. They
+were not more than thirty feet from where he was parked. They came to the
+salute but he growled, "At ease. Look here, did anyone approach my vehicle
+while I was inside?"
+
+One of the soldiers said, "Sir, twenty or thirty people have passed since
+the Comrade colonel entered the Ministry."
+
+The other one said, "Yes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked from the guards to the plainclothes man and back, in
+frustration. Finally he spun on his heel again and re-entered the car. He
+slapped the elevation lever, twisted the wheel sharply, hit the jets pedal
+with his foot and shot into the traffic.
+
+The plainclothes man looked after him and muttered to the guards,
+"Blagonravov's hatchetman. He's killed more men than the plague. A bad one
+to have down on you."
+
+Simonov bowled down the Kaluga at excessive speed. "Driving like a young
+_stilyagi_," he growled in irritation at himself. But, confound it, how
+far had things gone when subversive leaflets were placed in cars parked in
+front of the ministry devoted to combating counter revolution.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He'd been away from Moscow for over a month and the amenities in the smog,
+smoke and coke fumes blanketing industrial complex of Magnitogorsk hadn't
+been particularly of the best. Ilya Simonov headed now for Gorki Street
+and the Baku Restaurant. He had an idea that it was going to be some time
+before the opportunity would be repeated for him to sit down to Zakouski,
+the salty, spicy Russian hors d'oeuvres, and to Siberian pilmeny and a
+bottle of Tsinandali.
+
+The restaurant, as usual, was packed. In irritation, Ilya Simonov stood
+for a while waiting for a table, then, taking the head waiter's advice,
+agreed to share one with a stranger.
+
+The stranger, a bearded little man, who was dwaddling over his Gurievskaya
+kasha dessert while reading _Izvestia_, glanced up at him, unseemingly,
+bobbed his head at Simonov's request to share his table, and returned to
+the newspaper.
+
+The harried waiter took his time in turning up with a menu. Ilya Simonov
+attempted to relax. He had no particular reason to be upset by the leaflet
+found in his car. Obviously, whoever had thrown it there was distributing
+haphazardly. The fact that it was mimeographed, rather than printed, was
+an indication of lack of resources, an amateur affair. But what in the
+world did these people want? What did they want?
+
+The Soviet State was turning out consumer's goods, homes, cars as no
+nation in the world. Vacations were lengthy, working hours short. A
+four-day week, even! What did they _want_? What motivates a man who is
+living on a scale unknown to a Czarist boyar to risk his position, even
+his life! in a stupidly impossible revolt against the country's
+government?
+
+The man across from him snorted in contempt.
+
+He looked over the top of his paper at Smirnov and said, "The election in
+Italy. Ridiculous!"
+
+Ilya Simonov brought his mind back to the present. "How did they turn out?
+I understand the depression is terrible there."
+
+"So I understand," the other said. "The vote turned out as was to be
+expected."
+
+Simonov's eyebrows went up. "The Party has been voted into power?"
+
+"Ha!" the other snorted. "The vote for the Party has fallen off by more
+than a third."
+
+The security colonel scowled at him. "That doesn't sound reasonable, if
+the economic situation is as bad as has been reported."
+
+His table mate put down the paper. "Why not? Has there ever been a country
+where the Party was _voted_ into power? Anywhere--at any time during the
+more than half a century since the Bolsheviks first took over here in
+Russia?"
+
+Simonov looked at him.
+
+The other was talking out opinions he'd evidently formed while reading the
+_Izvestia_ account of the Italian elections, not paying particular
+attention to the stranger across from him.
+
+He said, his voice irritated, "Nor will there ever be. They know better.
+In the early days of the revolution the workers might have had illusions
+about the Party and it goals. Now they've lost them. Everywhere, they've
+lost them."
+
+Ilya Simonov said tightly, "How do you mean?"
+
+"I mean the Party has been rejected. With the exception of China and
+Yugoslavia, both of whom have their own varieties, the only countries that
+have adopted our system have done it under pressure from outside--not by
+their own efforts. Not by the will of the majority."
+
+Colonel Simonov said flatly, "You seem to think that Marxism will never
+dominate the world."
+
+"Marxism!" the other snorted. "If Marx were alive in Russia today, Frol
+Zverev would have him in a Siberian labor camp within twenty-four hours."
+
+Ilya Simonov brought forth his wallet and opened it to his police
+credentials. He said coldly, "Let me see your identification papers. You
+are under arrest."
+
+The other stared at him for a moment, then snorted his contempt. He
+brought forth his own wallet and handed it across the table.
+
+Simonov flicked it open, his face hard. He looked at the man. "Konstantin
+Kasatkin."
+
+"Candidate member of the Academy of Sciences," the other snapped. "And
+bearer of the Hero of the Soviet Union award."
+
+Simonov flung the wallet back to him in anger. "And as such, practically
+immune."
+
+The other grinned nastily at him. "Scientists, my police friend, cannot be
+bothered with politics. Where would the Soviet Complex be if you took to
+throwing biologists such as myself into prison for making unguarded
+statements in an absent-minded moment?"
+
+Simonov slapped a palm down on the table. "Confound it, Comrade," he
+snapped, "how is the Party to maintain discipline in the country if high
+ranking persons such as yourself speak open subversion to strangers."
+
+The other sported his contempt. "Perhaps there's too much discipline in
+Russia, Comrade policeman."
+
+"Rather, far from enough," Simonov snapped back.
+
+The waiter, at last, approached and extended a menu to the security
+officer. But Ilya Simonov had come to his feet. "Never mind," he clipped
+in disgust. "There is an air of degenerate decay about here."
+
+The waiter stared at him. The biologist snorted and returned to his paper.
+Simonov turned and stormed out. He could find something to eat and drink
+in his own apartment.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The old, old town of Prague, the _Golden City of a Hundred Spires_ was as
+always the beautifully stolid medieval metropolis which even a quarter of
+a century and more of Party rule could not change. The Old Town, nestled
+in a bend of the Vltava River, as no other city in Europe, breathed its
+centuries, its air of yesteryear.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov, in spite of his profession, was not immune to
+beauty. He deliberately failed to notify his new office of his arrival,
+flew in on a Ceskoslovenskè Aerolinie Tupolev rocket liner and spent his
+first night at the Alcron Hotel just off Wenceslas Square. He knew that as
+the new manager of the local Moskvich distribution agency he'd have
+fairly elaborate quarters, probably in a good section of town, but this
+first night he wanted to himself.
+
+He spent it wandering quietly in the old quarter, dropping in to the
+age-old beer halls for a half liter of Pilsen Urquell here, a foaming
+stein of Smichov Lager there. Czech beer, he was reminded all over again,
+is the best in the world. No argument, no debate, the best in the world.
+
+He ate in the endless automated cafeterias that line the Viclavské Námesi
+the entertainment center of Prague. Ate an open sandwich here, some
+crabmeat salad there, a sausage and another glass of Pilsen somewhere else
+again. He was getting the feel of the town and of its people. Of recent
+years, some of the tension had gone out of the atmosphere in Moscow and
+the other Soviet centers; with the coming of economic prosperity there had
+also come a relaxation. The _fear_, so heavy in the Stalin era, had fallen
+off in that of Khrushchev and still more so in the present reign of Frol
+Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
+whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
+the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
+once dropped.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
+even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
+up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
+publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
+cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
+shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
+Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!
+
+Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
+issue.
+
+Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
+in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
+subscribe."
+
+A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
+spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
+place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
+hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
+another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
+to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
+your saucer and you paid up.
+
+Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
+brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.
+
+The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
+by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
+years ago, they have on TV today."
+
+"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
+his voice expressionless.
+
+The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
+and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
+brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
+these days."
+
+It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
+he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
+was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
+extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
+political subjects.
+
+His cross-the-table neighbor shook his head, obviously pleased. "If you
+think Prague is good, you ought to see Warsaw. It's as free as Paris! I
+saw a Tri-D cinema up there about two months ago. You know what it was
+about? The purges in Moscow back in the 1930s."
+
+"A rather unique subject," Simonov said.
+
+"Um-m-m, made a very strong case for Bukharin, in particular."
+
+Simonov said, very slowly, "I don't understand. You mean this ... this
+film supported the, ah, Old Bolsheviks?"
+
+"Of course. Why not? Everybody knows they weren't guilty." The Czech
+snorted deprecation. "At least not guilty of what they were charged with.
+They were in Stalin's way and he liquidated them." The Czech thought about
+it for a while. "I wonder if he was already insane, that far back."
+
+Had he taken up his mug of beer and dashed it into Simonov's face, he
+couldn't have surprised the Russian more.
+
+Ilya Simonov had to take control of himself. His first instinct was to
+show his credentials, arrest the man and have him hauled up before the
+local agency of Simonov's ministry.
+
+But obviously that was out of the question. He was in Czechoslovakia and,
+although Moscow still dominated the Soviet Complex, there was local
+autonomy and the Czech police just didn't enjoy their affairs being
+meddled with unless in extreme urgency.
+
+Besides, this man was obviously only one among many. A stranger in a beer
+hall. Ilya Simonov suspected that if he continued his wanderings about the
+town, he'd meet in the process of only one evening a score of persons who
+would talk the same way.
+
+Besides, still again, he was here in Prague incognito, his job to trace
+the sources of this dry rot, not to run down individual Czechs.
+
+But the cinema, and TV! Surely anti-Party sentiment hadn't been allowed to
+go this far!
+
+He got up from the table shakily, paid up for his beer and forced himself
+to nod good-bye in friendly fashion to the subversive Czech he'd been
+talking to.
+
+In the morning he strolled over to the offices of the Moskvich Agency
+which was located only a few blocks from his hotel on Celetna Hybernski.
+The Russian car agency, he knew, was having a fairly hard go of it in
+Prague and elsewhere in Czechoslovakia. The Czechs, long before the Party
+took over in 1948, had been a highly industrialized, modern nation. They
+consequently had their own automobile works, such as Skoda, and their
+models were locally more popular than the Russian Moskvich, Zim and
+Pobeda.
+
+Theoretically, the reason Ilya Simonov was the newly appointed agency head
+was to push Moskvich sales among the Czechs. He thought, half humorously,
+half sourly, to himself, even under the Party we have competition and
+pressure for higher sales. What was it that some American economist had
+called them? a system of State-Capitalism.
+
+At the Moskvich offices he found himself in command of a staff that
+consisted of three fellow Russians, and a dozen or so Czech assistants.
+His immediate subordinate was a Catherina Panova, whose dossier revealed
+her to be a party member, though evidently not a particularly active one,
+at least not since she'd been assigned here in Prague.
+
+She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University of
+Moscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of six
+months or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that the
+style-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besides
+that, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girls
+Ilya Simonov had ever seen.
+
+His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.
+Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom were
+of the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking at
+this new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go by
+without more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.
+
+He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actual
+identity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checked
+himself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of complete
+secrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquainted
+with his presence.
+
+He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the local
+methods of going about their business affairs and the problems they were
+running into.
+
+She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, and
+said, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a whole
+set of new methods."
+
+It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,
+"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your present
+policies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a few
+months, we'll come up with some ideas."
+
+She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staff
+had been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He already
+felt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return to
+their homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia that
+appealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.
+
+Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possible
+changes myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we can
+discuss them informally."
+
+Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous with
+him. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.
+She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Of
+course, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't even
+revealed to her his own membership.
+
+As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of the
+new Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,
+drink, dancing--and each other.
+
+They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungarian
+dishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. It
+occurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derived
+from the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman in
+the establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was a
+certain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half the
+other males present were following you in envy.
+
+One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, the
+Hungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,
+distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, required
+learning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had the
+knack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviously
+necessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.
+
+It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, which
+even with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in the
+Soviet Complex.
+
+They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at the
+Prazské Varieté.
+
+They took in the show at the U Sv Tomíse, the age old tavern which had
+been making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. And
+here Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tables
+taught him the correct pronunciation of _Na zdraví!_ the Czech toast. It
+seemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the new
+salutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.
+
+Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,
+Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoes
+involved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow or
+Leningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was even
+a caricature of a security police minister who could only have been his
+superior Kliment Blagonravov.
+
+They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The Good
+Soldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classic
+were framed on the walls.
+
+They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonov
+looked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."
+
+"Fine," she laughed.
+
+"In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I mean
+tonight."
+
+She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving our
+operations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightly
+practice of carrying on like we did this evening."
+
+He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.
+
+She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."
+
+He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that he
+hardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. For
+that matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritated
+him.
+
+He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"
+
+Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to be
+an automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a security
+police agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you mean
+another man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."
+
+"A meeting! It sounds dry as--"
+
+She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.
+We're to be addressed by an American journalist."
+
+Suddenly he was all but sober.
+
+He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise had
+precipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"
+
+"Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," she
+said. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open things
+are here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."
+
+"I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"
+
+She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather to
+hear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,
+of course, _theoretically_ it's illegal, but for that matter even the head
+of the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advanced
+intellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know a
+dozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."
+
+"But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is he
+accredited?"
+
+"No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across some
+Prague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of the
+press."
+
+"I see," Simonov said.
+
+She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, why
+don't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."
+
+"It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sober
+now.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. He
+mentioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czech
+capital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. He
+reported--although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have the
+information--hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the Old
+Bolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, with
+its caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then after
+hesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidently
+belonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to a
+talk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspices
+of the Czech Party nor the government.
+
+At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She ticked
+it off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and borovika
+gin--we should have know better."
+
+He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should have
+stuck to vodka."
+
+"Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,
+rather than a carouse."
+
+Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, Catherina
+Panova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, and
+still look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined with
+improperly tanned suede.
+
+He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it worked
+smoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czech
+employees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of his
+evening on the town had somehow spread, and the fact that he was prone to
+a good time had relieved their fears of a martinet sent down from the
+central offices. They were beginning to relax in his presence.
+
+In fact, they relaxed to the point where one of the girls didn't even
+bother to hide the book she was reading during a period where there was a
+lull in activity. It was Pasternak's "Doctor Zhivago."
+
+He frowned remembering vaguely the controversy over the book a couple of
+decades earlier. Ilya Simonov said, "Pasternak. Do they print his works
+here in Czechoslovakia?"
+
+The girl shrugged and looked at the back of the cover. "German publisher,"
+she said idly. "Printed in Frankfurt."
+
+He kept his voice from registering either surprise or disapproval. "You
+mean such books are imported? By whom?"
+
+"Oh, not imported by an official agency, but we Czechs are doing a good
+deal more travel than we used to. Business trips, tourist trips,
+vacations. And, of course, we bring back books you can't get here." She
+shrugged again. "Very common."
+
+Simonov said blankly. "But the customs. The border police--"
+
+She smiled in a manner that suggested he lacked sophistication. "They
+never bother any more. They're human, too."
+
+Ilya Simonov wandered off. He was astonished at the extent to which
+controls were slipping in a satellite country. There seemed practically no
+discipline, in the old sense, at all. He began to see one reason why his
+superior had sent him here to Prague. For years, most of his work had been
+either in Moscow or in the newly opened industrial areas in Siberia. He
+had lost touch with developments in this part of the Soviet Complex.
+
+It came to him that this sort of thing could work like a geometric
+progression. Give a man a bit of rope one day, and he expects, and takes,
+twice as much the next, and twice that the next. And as with individuals,
+so with whole populations.
+
+This was going to have to be stopped soon, or Party control would
+disappear. Ilya Simonov felt an edge of uncertainty. Nikita Khrushchev
+should never have made those first motions of liberalization following
+Stalin's death. Not if they eventually culminated in this sort of thing.
+
+He and Catherina drove to her meeting place that evening after dinner.
+
+She explained as they went that the group was quite informal, usually
+meeting at the homes of group members who had fairly large places in the
+country. She didn't seem to know how it had originally begun. The meetings
+had been going on for a year of more before she arrived in Prague. A Czech
+friend had taken her along one night, and she'd been attending ever since.
+There were other, similar groups, in town.
+
+"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.
+
+She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the
+Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them
+loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised
+immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I
+wonder if he was insane from the first."
+
+He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.
+
+"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."
+
+This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run
+into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now,
+"I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"
+
+"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."
+
+"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on
+vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I
+mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in
+Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular
+purpose of the organization."
+
+She turned the car left on Budenská and sped up into the Holesovice
+section of town.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The nonchalance of it all was what stopped Ilya Simonov. Here was a Party
+member calmly discussing whether or not the greatest Russian of them all,
+after Lenin, had been mad. The implications were, of course, that many of
+the purges, certainly the latter ones, were the result of the whims of a
+mental case, that the Soviet Complex had for long years been ruled by a
+man as unbalanced as Czar Peter the Great.
+
+They pulled up before a rather large house that would have been called a
+dacha back in Moscow. Evidently, Ilya Simonov decided, whoever was
+sponsoring this night's get together, was a man of prominence. He grimaced
+inwardly. A lot of high placed heads were going to roll before he was
+through.
+
+It turned out that the host was Leos Dvorak, the internationally famed
+cinema director and quite an idol of Ilya Simonov in his earlier days when
+he'd found more time for entertainment. It was a shock to meet the man
+under these circumstances.
+
+Catherina Panova was obviously quite popular among this gathering. Their
+host gave her an affectionate squeeze in way of greeting, then shook hands
+with Simonov when Catherina introduced him.
+
+"Newly from Moscow, eh?" the film director said, squinting at the security
+agent. He had a sharp glance, almost, it seemed to Simonov, as though he
+detected the real nature of the newcomer. "It's been several years since
+I've been to Moscow. Are things loosening up there?"
+
+"Loosening up?" Simonov said.
+
+Leos Dvorak laughed and said to Catherina, "Probably not. I've always been
+of the opinion that the Party's influence would shrivel away first at its
+extremities. Membership would fall off abroad, in the neutral countries
+and in Common Europe and the Americas. Then in the so-called satellite
+countries. Last of all in Russia herself. But, very last, Moscow--the
+dullest, stodgiest, most backward intellectually, capital city in the
+world." The director laughed again and turned away to greet a new guest.
+
+This was open treason. Ilya Simonov had been lucky. Within the first few
+days of being in the Czech capital he'd contacted one of the groups which
+he'd been sent to unmask.
+
+Now he said mildly to Catherina Panova, "He seems rather outspoken."
+
+She chuckled. "Leos is quite strongly opinionated. His theory is that the
+more successful the Party is in attaining the goals it set half a century
+ago, the less necessary it becomes. He's of the opinion that it will
+eventually atrophy, shrivel away to the point that all that will be needed
+will be the slightest of pushes to end its domination."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "And the rest of the group here, do they agree?"
+
+Catherina shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Some of them are of the opinion
+that it will take another blood bath. That the party will attempt to hang
+onto its power and will have to be destroyed."
+
+Simonov said evenly, "And you? What do you think?"
+
+She frowned, prettily. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'm still in the process
+of forming an opinion."
+
+Their host was calling them together and leading the way to the garden
+where chairs had been set up. There seemed to be about twenty-five persons
+present in all. Ilya Simonov had been introduced to no more than half of
+them. His memory was good and already he was composing a report to Kliment
+Blagonravov, listing those names he recalled. Some were Czechs, some
+citizens of other satellite countries, several, including Catherina, were
+actually Russians.
+
+The American, a newspaperman named Dickson, had an open-faced freshness,
+hardly plausible in an agent from the West trying to subvert Party
+leadership. Ilya Simonov couldn't quite figure him out.
+
+Dickson was introduced by Leos Dvorak who informed his guests that the
+American had been reluctant but had finally agreed to give them his
+opinion on the press on both sides of what had once been called the Iron
+Curtain.
+
+Dickson grinned boyishly and said, "I'm not a public speaker, and, for
+that matter, I haven't had time to put together a talk for you. I think
+what I'll do is read a little clipping I've got here--sort of a text--and
+then, well, throw the meeting open to questions. I'll try to answer
+anything you have to ask."
+
+He brought forth a piece of paper. "This is from the British writer,
+Huxley. I think it's pretty good." He cleared his voice and began to read.
+
+_Mass communication ... is simply a force and like any other force, it can
+be used either well or ill. Used one way, the press, the radio and the
+cinema are indispensible to the survival of democracy. Used in another
+way, they are among the most powerful weapons in the dictator's armory. In
+the field of mass communications as in almost every other field of
+enterprise, technological progress has hurt the Little Man and helped the
+Big Man. As lately as fifty years ago, every democratic country could
+boast of a great number of small journals and local newspapers. Thousands
+of country editors expressed thousands of independent opinions. Somewhere
+or other almost anybody could get almost anything printed. Today the press
+is still legally free; but most of the little papers have disappeared. The
+cost of wood pulp, of modern printing machinery and of syndicated news is
+too high for the Little Man. In the totalitarian East there is political
+censorship, and the media of mass communications are controlled by the
+State. In the democratic West there is economic censorship and the media
+of mass communication are controlled by members of the Power Elite.
+Censorship by rising costs and the concentration of communication-power in
+the hands of a few big concerns is less objectionable than State Ownership
+and government propaganda; but certainly it is not something to which a
+Jeffersonian democrat could approve._
+
+Ilya Simonov looked blankly at Catherina and whispered, "Why, what he's
+reading is as much an attack on the West as it is on us."
+
+She looked at him and whispered back, "Well, why not? This gathering is to
+discuss freedom of the press."
+
+He said blankly, "But as an agent of the West--"
+
+She frowned at him. "Mr. Dickson isn't an agent of the West. He's an
+American journalist."
+
+"Surely you can't believe he has no connections with the imperialist
+governments."
+
+"Certainly, he hasn't. What sort of meeting do you think this is? We're
+not interested in Western propaganda. We're a group of intellectuals
+searching for freedom of ideas."
+
+Ilya Simonov was taken back once again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov dismissed his cab in front of the Ministry and walked
+toward the gate. Down the street the same plainclothes man, who had been
+lounging there the last time he'd reported, once again took him in, then
+looked away. The two guards snapped to attention, and the security agent
+strode by them unnoticing.
+
+At the lieutenant's desk, before the offices of Kliment Blagonravov, he
+stopped and said, "Colonel Simonov. I have no appointment but I think the
+Minister will see me."
+
+"Yes, Comrade Colonel," the lieutenant said. He spoke into an inter-office
+communicator, then looked up. "Minister Blagonravov will be able to see
+you in a few minutes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov stared nervously and unseeingly out a window while he waited.
+Gorki Park lay across the way. It, like Moscow in general, had changed a
+good deal in Simonov's memory. Everything in Russia had changed a good
+deal, he realized. And was changing. And what was the end to be? Or was
+there ever an end? Of course not. There is no end, ever. Only new changes
+to come.
+
+The lieutenant said, "The Minister is free now, Comrade Colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
+heavy door.
+
+Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
+It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"
+
+His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
+before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.
+
+Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
+"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
+from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
+you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
+I'd think there was a woman."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wanly. "That too, Kliment."
+
+"You are jesting!"
+
+"No. Not really. I had hoped to become engaged--soon."
+
+"A party member? I never thought of you as the marrying type, Ilya."
+
+Simonov said slowly, "Yes, a Party member. Catherina Panova, my assistant
+in the automobile agency in Prague."
+
+Blagonravov scowled heavily at him, put forth his fat lips in a thoughtful
+pout. He came to his feet, approached a file cabinet, fishing from his
+pocket a key ring. He unlocked the cabinet, brought forth a sheaf of
+papers with which he returned to his desk. He fumbled though them for a
+moment, found the paper he wanted and read it. He scowled again and looked
+up at his agent.
+
+"Your first report," he said. "Catherina Panova. From what you say here, a
+dangerous reactionary. Certainly she has no place in Party ranks."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "Is that the complete file of my assignment?"
+
+"Yes. I've kept it here in my own office. I've wanted this to be
+ultra-undercover. No one except you and me. I had hopes of you working
+your way up into the enemy's organization, and I wanted no possible chance
+of you being betrayed. You don't seem to have been too successful."
+
+"I was as successful as it's possible to be."
+
+The security minister leaned forward. "Ah ha! I knew I could trust you to
+bring back results, Ilya. This will take Frol Zverev's pressure off me.
+Number One has been riding me hard." Blagonravov poured them both another
+drink. "You were able to insert yourself into their higher circles?"
+
+Simonov said, "Kliment, there are no higher circles."
+
+His chief glared at him. "Nonsense!" He tapped the file with a pudgy
+finger. "In your early reports you described several groups, small
+organizations, illegal meetings. There must be an upper organization, some
+movement supported from the West most likely."
+
+Ilya Simonov was shaking his head. "No. They're all spontaneous."
+
+His chief growled, "I tell you there are literally thousands of these
+little groups. That hardly sounds like a spontaneous phenomenon."
+
+"Nevertheless, that is what my investigations have led me to believe."
+
+Blagonravov glowered at him, uncertainly. Finally, he said, "Well,
+confound it, you've spent the better part of a year among them. What's it
+all about? What do they want?"
+
+Ilya Simonov said flatly, "They want freedom, Kliment."
+
+"Freedom! What do you mean, freedom? The Soviet Complex is the most highly
+industrialized area of the world. Our people have the highest standard of
+living anywhere. Don't they understand? We've met all the promises we ever
+made. We've reached far and beyond the point ever dreamed of by Utopians.
+The people, all of the people, have it made as the Americans say."
+
+"Except for freedom," Simonov said doggedly. "These groups are springing
+up everywhere, spontaneously. Thus far, perhaps, our ministry has been
+able to suppress some of them. But the pace is accelerating. They aren't
+inter-organized now. But how soon they'll start to be, I don't know.
+Sooner or later, someone is going to come up with a unifying idea. A new
+socio-political system to advocate a way of guaranteeing the basic
+liberties. Then, of course, the fat will be in the fire."
+
+"Ilya! You've been working too hard. I've pushed you too much, relied on
+you too much. You need a good lengthy vacation."
+
+Simonov shrugged. "Perhaps. But what I've just said is the truth."
+
+His chief snorted heavily. "You half sound as though you agree with them."
+
+"I do, Kliment."
+
+"I am in no mood for gags, as the Yankees say."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wearily. He said slowly, "You sent me to
+investigate an epidemic, a spreading disease. Very well, I report that
+it's highly contagious."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Blagonravov poured himself more vodka angrily. "Explain yourself. What's
+this all about?"
+
+His former best field man said, "Kliment--"
+
+"I want no familiarities from you, colonel!"
+
+"Yes, sir." Ilya Simonov went on doggedly. "Man never achieves complete
+freedom. It's a goal never reached, but one continually striven for. The
+moment as small a group as two or three gather together, all of them must
+give up some of the individual's freedom. When man associates with
+millions of his fellow men, he gives up a good many freedoms for the sake
+of the community. But always he works to retain as much liberty as
+possible, and to gain more. It's the nature of our species, I suppose."
+
+"You sound as though you've become corrupted by Western ideas," the
+security head muttered dangerously.
+
+Simonov shook his head. "No. The same thing applies over there. Even in
+countries such as Sweden and Switzerland, where institutions are as free
+as anywhere in the world, the people are continually striving for more.
+Governments and socio-economic systems seem continually to whittle away at
+individual liberty. But always man fights back and tries to achieve new
+heights for himself.
+
+"In the name of developing our country, the Party all but eliminated
+freedom in the Soviet Complex, but now the goals have been reached and the
+people will no longer put up with us, sir."
+
+"_Us!_" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
+considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
+you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
+to escape over the border into the West."
+
+Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
+reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
+some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."
+
+The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
+in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
+fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
+either in prison or in their graves."
+
+With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
+model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
+virtues as guns go.
+
+"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.
+
+"Are you mad!"
+
+"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
+feet and reached for them.
+
+With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
+beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
+heavy military revolver.
+
+And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
+silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.
+
+Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
+his heavy swivel chair.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
+see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
+dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
+and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
+pulverized.
+
+He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
+turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.
+
+He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
+under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."
+
+The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
+bothered under any circumstances."
+
+"But it was an appointment with Number One!"
+
+That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
+canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
+bother him under any circumstances for the next hour."
+
+He left the other and strode down the corridor, keeping himself from too
+obvious, a quickened pace.
+
+At the entrance to the Ministry, he shot his glance up and down the
+street. He was in the clutch now, and knew it. He had few illusions.
+
+Not a cab in sight. He began to cross the road toward the park. In a
+matter of moments there, he'd be lost in the trees and shrubbery. He had
+rather vague plans. Actually, he was playing things as they came. There
+was a close friend in whose apartment he could hide, a man who owed him
+his life. He could disguise himself. Possibly buy or borrow a car. If he
+could get back to Prague, he was safe. Perhaps he and Catherina could
+defect to the West.
+
+Somebody was screaming something from a window in the Ministry.
+
+Ilya Simonov quickened his pace. He was nearly across the street now. He
+thought, foolishly, _Whoever that is shouting is so excited he sounds more
+like a woman than a man._
+
+Another voice took up the shout. It was the plainclothes man. Feet began
+pounding.
+
+There were two more shouts. The guards. But he was across now. The shrubs
+were only a foot away.
+
+The shattering blackness hit him in the back of the head. It was over
+immediately.
+
+Afterwards, the plainclothes man and the two guards stood over him. Men
+began pouring from the Ministry in their direction.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov was a meaningless, bloody heap on the edge of the
+park's grass.
+
+The guard who had shot said, "He killed the Minister. He must have been
+crazy to think he could get away with it. What did he want?"
+
+"Well, we'll never know now," the plainclothesman grunted.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30338 ***
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30338 ***</div>
+
+<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p>
+<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact &amp; Fiction February 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="347" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h1>FREEDOM</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>by MACK REYNOLDS</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>Illustrated by Schoenherr</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so
+catching&mdash;like a plague&mdash;even the doctors get it.</i></p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="50" height="50" /></div>
+<p>olonel Ilya Simonov tooled his Zil aircushion convertible along the edge
+of Red Square, turned right immediately beyond St. Basil's Cathedral,
+crossed the Moscow River by the Moskvocetski Bridge and debouched into the
+heavy, and largely automated traffic of Pyarnikskaya. At Dobryninskaya
+Square he turned west to Gorki Park which he paralleled on Kaluga until he
+reached the old baroque palace which housed the Ministry.</p>
+
+<p>There were no flags, no signs, nothing to indicate the present nature of
+the aged Czarist building.</p>
+
+<p>He left the car at the curb, slamming its door behind him and walking
+briskly to the entrance. Hard, handsome in the Slavic tradition,
+dedicated, Ilya Simonov was young for his rank. A plainclothes man, idling
+a hundred feet down the street, eyed him briefly then turned his attention
+elsewhere. The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes
+straight ahead. Colonel Simonov was in mufti and didn't answer the salute.</p>
+
+<p>The inside of the old building was well known to him. He went along marble
+halls which contained antique statuary and other relics of the past which,
+for unknown reason, no one had ever bothered to remove. At the heavy door
+which entered upon the office of his destination he came to a halt and
+spoke briefly to the lieutenant at the desk there.</p>
+
+<p>"The Minister is expecting me," Simonov clipped.</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant did the things receptionists do everywhere and looked up in
+a moment to say, "Go right in, Colonel Simonov."</p>
+
+<p>Minister Kliment Blagonravov looked up from his desk at Simonov's
+entrance. He was a heavy-set man, heavy of face and he still affected the
+shaven head, now rapidly disappearing among upper-echelons of the Party.
+His jacket had been thrown over the back of a chair and his collar
+loosened; even so there was a sheen of sweat on his face.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up at his most trusted field man, said in the way of greeting,
+"Ilya," and twisted in his swivel chair to a portable bar. He swung open
+the door of the small refrigerator and emerged with a bottle of
+Stolichnaya vodka. He plucked two three-ounce glasses from a shelf and
+pulled the bottle's cork with his teeth. "Sit down, sit down, Ilya," he
+grunted as he filled the glasses. "How was Magnitogorsk?"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov secured his glass before seating himself in one of the room's
+heavy leathern chairs. He sighed, relaxed, and said, "Terrible, I loath
+those ultra-industrialized cities. I wonder if the Americans do any better
+with Pittsburgh or the British with Birmingham."</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you mean," the security head rumbled. "How did you make out
+with you assignment, Ilya?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov frowned down into the colorlessness of the vodka before
+dashing it back over his palate. "It's all in my report, Kliment." He was
+the only man in the organization who called Blagonravov by his first name.</p>
+
+<p>His chief grunted again and reached forward to refill the glass. "I'm sure
+it is. Do you know how many reports go across this desk daily? And did you
+know that Ilya Simonov is the most long-winded, as the Americans say, of
+my some two hundred first-line operatives?"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel shifted in his chair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll keep that in
+mind."</p>
+
+<p>His chief rumbled his sour version of a chuckle. "Nothing, nothing, Ilya.
+I was jesting. However, give me a brief of your mission."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov frowned again at his refilled vodka glass but didn't take it
+up for a moment. "A routine matter," he said. "A dozen or so engineers and
+technicians, two or three fairly high-ranking scientists, and three or
+four of the local intelligentsia had formed some sort of informal club.
+They were discussing national and international affairs."</p>
+
+<p>Kliment Blagonravov's thin eyebrows went up but he waited for the other to
+go on.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya said impatiently, "It was the ordinary. They featured complete
+freedom of opinion and expression in their weekly get-togethers. They
+began by criticizing without extremism, local affairs, matters concerned
+with their duties, that sort of thing. In the beginning, they even sent a
+few letters of protest to the local press, signing the name of the club.
+After their ideas went further out, they didn't dare do that, of course."</p>
+
+<p>He took up his second drink and belted it back, not wanting to give it
+time to lose its chill.</p>
+
+<p>His chief filled in. "And they delved further and further into matters
+that should be discussed only within the party&mdash;if even there&mdash;until they
+arrived at what point?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov shrugged. "Until they finally got to the point of
+discussing how best to overthrow the Soviet State and what socio-economic
+system should follow it. The usual thing. I've run into possible two dozen
+such outfits in the past five years."</p>
+
+<p>His chief grunted and tossed back his own drink. "My dear Ilya," he
+rumbled sourly, "I've <i>run into</i>, as you say, more than two hundred."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov was taken back by the figure but he only looked at the other.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov said, "What did you do about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Several of them were popular locally. In view of Comrade Zverev's recent
+pronouncements of increased freedom of press and speech, I thought it best
+not to make a public display. Instead, I took measures to charge
+individual members with inefficiency in their work, with corruption or
+graft, or with other crimes having nothing to do with the reality of the
+situation. Six or seven in all were imprisoned, others demoted. Ten or
+twelve I had switched to other cities, principally into more backward
+areas in the virgin lands."</p>
+
+<p>"And the ringleaders?" the security head asked.</p>
+
+<p>"There were two of them, one a research chemist of some prominence, the
+other a steel plane manager. They were both, ah, unfortunately killed in
+an automobile accident while under the influence of drink."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," Blagonravov nodded. "So actually the whole rat's nest was stamped
+out without attention being brought to it so far as the Magnitogorsk
+public is concerned." He nodded heavily again. "You can almost always be
+depended upon to do the right thing, Ilya. If you weren't so confoundedly
+good a field man, I'd make you my deputy."</p>
+
+<p>Which was exactly what Simonov would have hated, but he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"One thing," his chief said. "The origin of this, ah, <i>club</i> which turned
+into a tiny underground all of its own. Did you detect the finger of the
+West, stirring up trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"No." Simonov shook his head. "If such was the case, the agents involved
+were more clever than I'd ordinarily give either America or Common Europe
+credit for. I could be wrong, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," the police head growled. He eyed the bottle before him but made
+no motion toward it. He wiped the palm of his right hand back over his
+bald pate, in unconscious irritation. "But there is something at work that
+we are not getting at." Blagonravov seemed to change subjects. "You can
+speak Czech, so I understand."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. My mother was from Bratislava. My father met her there
+during the Hitler war."</p>
+
+<p>"And you know Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've spent several vacations in the Tatras at such resorts as Tatranski
+Lomnica since the country's been made such a tourist center of the
+satellites." Ilya Simonov didn't understand this trend of the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"You have some knowledge of automobiles, too?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shrugged. "I've driven all my life."</p>
+
+<p>His chief rumbled thoughtfully, "Time isn't of essence. You can take a
+quick course at the Moskvich plant. A week or two would give you all the
+background you need."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya laughed easily. "I seem to have missed something. Have my
+shortcomings caught up with me? Am I to be demoted to automobile
+mechanic?"</p>
+
+<p>Kliment Blagonravov became definite. "You are being given the most
+important assignment of your career, Ilya. This rot, this ever growing
+ferment against the Party, must be cut out, liquidated. It seems to fester
+worse among the middle echelons of ... what did that Yugoslavian Djilas
+call us?... the <i>New Class</i>. Why? That's what we must know."</p>
+
+<p>He sat farther back in his chair and his heavy lips made a <i>mout</i>. "Why,
+Ilya?" he repeated. "After more than half a century the Party has attained
+all its goals. Lenin's millennium is here; the end for which Stalin purged
+ten millions and more, is reached; the sacrifices demanded by Khrushchev
+in the Seven-Year Plans have finally paid off, as the Yankees say. Our
+gross national product, our per capita production, our standard of living,
+is the highest in the world. Sacrifices are no longer necessary."</p>
+
+<p>There had been an almost whining note in his voice. But now he broke it
+off. He poured them still another drink. "At any rate, Ilya, I was with
+Frol Zverev this morning. Number One is incensed. It seems that in the
+Azerbaijan Republic, for one example, that even the Komsomols were
+circulating among themselves various proscribed books and pamphlets.
+Comrade Zverev instructed me to concentrate on discovering the reason for
+this disease."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov scowled. "What's this got to do with Czechoslovakia&mdash;and
+automobiles?"</p>
+
+<p>The security head waggled a fat finger at him. "What we've been doing,
+thus far, is dashing forth upon hearing of a new conflagration and
+stamping it out. Obviously, that's no answer. We must find who is behind
+it. How it begins. Why it begins. That's your job?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're unknown as a security agent there, for one thing. You will go to
+Prague and become manager of the Moskvich automobile distribution agency.
+No one, not even the Czech unit of our ministry will be aware of your
+identity. You will play it by ear, as the Americans say."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom do I report?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only to me, until the task is completed. When it is, you will return to
+Moscow and report fully." A grimace twisted Blagonravov's face. "If I am
+still here. Number One is truly incensed, Ilya."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>There had been some more. Kliment Blagonravov had evidently chosen Prague,
+the capital of Czechoslovakia, as the seat of operations in a suspicion
+that the wave of unrest spreading insidiously throughout the Soviet
+Complex owed its origins to the West. Thus far, there had been no evidence
+of this but the suspicion refused to die. If not the West, then who? The
+Cold War was long over but the battle for men's minds continued even in
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>Ideally, Ilya Simonov was to infiltrate whatever Czech groups might be
+active in the illicit movement and then, if he discovered there was a
+higher organization, a center of the movement, he was to attempt to become
+a part of it. If possible he was to rise in the organisation to as high a
+point as he could.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov, Minister of the <i>Chrezvychainaya Komissiya</i>, the
+Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-Revolution and Sabotage,
+was of the opinion that if this virus of revolt was originating from the
+West, then it would be stronger in the satellite countries than in Russia
+itself. Simonov held no opinion as yet. He would wait and see. However,
+there was an uncomfortable feeling about the whole assignment. The group
+in Magnitogorsk, he was all but sure, had no connections with Western
+agents, nor anyone else, for that matter. Of course, it might have been an
+exception.</p>
+
+<p>He left the Ministry, his face thoughtful as he climbed into his waiting
+Zil. This assignment was going to be a lengthy one. He'd have to wind up
+various affairs here in Moscow, personal as well as business. He might be
+away for a year or more.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sheet of paper on the seat of his aircushion car. He frowned
+at it. It couldn't have been there before. He picked it up.</p>
+
+<p>It was a mimeographed throw-away.</p>
+
+<p>It was entitled, <i>FREEDOM</i>, and it began: <i>Comrades, more than a hundred
+years ago the founders of scientific socialism, Karl Marx and Frederick
+Engels, explained that the State was incompatible with liberty, that the
+State was an instrument of repression of one class by another. They
+explained that for true freedom ever to exist the State must wither away.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Under the leadership of Lenin, Stalin, Krushchev and now Zverev, the
+State has become ever stronger. Far from withering away, it continues to
+oppress us. Fellow Russians, it is time we take action! We must....</i></p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov bounced from his car again, shot his eyes up and down the
+street. He barely refrained from drawing the 9 mm automatic which nestled
+under his left shoulder and which he knew how to use so well.</p>
+
+<p>He curtly beckoned to the plainclothes man, still idling against the
+building a hundred feet or so up the street. The other approached him,
+touched the brim of his hat in a half salute.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov snapped, "Do you know who I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov thrust the leaflet forward. "How did this get into my car?"</p>
+
+<p>The other looked at it blankly. "I don't know, Colonel Simonov."</p>
+
+<p>"You've been here all this time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes colonel."</p>
+
+<p>"With my car in plain sight?"</p>
+
+<p>That didn't seem to call for an answer. The plainclothesman looked
+apprehensive but blank.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov turned on his heel and approached the two guards at the gate. They
+were not more than thirty feet from where he was parked. They came to the
+salute but he growled, "At ease. Look here, did anyone approach my vehicle
+while I was inside?"</p>
+
+<p>One of the soldiers said, "Sir, twenty or thirty people have passed since
+the Comrade colonel entered the Ministry."</p>
+
+<p>The other one said, "Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked from the guards to the plainclothes man and back, in
+frustration. Finally he spun on his heel again and re-entered the car. He
+slapped the elevation lever, twisted the wheel sharply, hit the jets pedal
+with his foot and shot into the traffic.</p>
+
+<p>The plainclothes man looked after him and muttered to the guards,
+"Blagonravov's hatchetman. He's killed more men than the plague. A bad one
+to have down on you."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov bowled down the Kaluga at excessive speed. "Driving like a young
+<i>stilyagi</i>," he growled in irritation at himself. But, confound it, how
+far had things gone when subversive leaflets were placed in cars parked in
+front of the ministry devoted to combating counter revolution.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He'd been away from Moscow for over a month and the amenities in the smog,
+smoke and coke fumes blanketing industrial complex of Magnitogorsk hadn't
+been particularly of the best. Ilya Simonov headed now for Gorki Street
+and the Baku Restaurant. He had an idea that it was going to be some time
+before the opportunity would be repeated for him to sit down to Zakouski,
+the salty, spicy Russian hors d'oeuvres, and to Siberian pilmeny and a
+bottle of Tsinandali.</p>
+
+<p>The restaurant, as usual, was packed. In irritation, Ilya Simonov stood
+for a while waiting for a table, then, taking the head waiter's advice,
+agreed to share one with a stranger.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger, a bearded little man, who was dwaddling over his Gurievskaya
+kasha dessert while reading <i>Izvestia</i>, glanced up at him, unseemingly,
+bobbed his head at Simonov's request to share his table, and returned to
+the newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>The harried waiter took his time in turning up with a menu. Ilya Simonov
+attempted to relax. He had no particular reason to be upset by the leaflet
+found in his car. Obviously, whoever had thrown it there was distributing
+haphazardly. The fact that it was mimeographed, rather than printed, was
+an indication of lack of resources, an amateur affair. But what in the
+world did these people want? What did they want?</p>
+
+<p>The Soviet State was turning out consumer's goods, homes, cars as no
+nation in the world. Vacations were lengthy, working hours short. A
+four-day week, even! What did they <i>want</i>? What motivates a man who is
+living on a scale unknown to a Czarist boyar to risk his position, even
+his life! in a stupidly impossible revolt against the country's
+government?</p>
+
+<p>The man across from him snorted in contempt.</p>
+
+<p>He looked over the top of his paper at Smirnov and said, "The election in
+Italy. Ridiculous!"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov brought his mind back to the present. "How did they turn out?
+I understand the depression is terrible there."</p>
+
+<p>"So I understand," the other said. "The vote turned out as was to be
+expected."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov's eyebrows went up. "The Party has been voted into power?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" the other snorted. "The vote for the Party has fallen off by more
+than a third."</p>
+
+<p>The security colonel scowled at him. "That doesn't sound reasonable, if
+the economic situation is as bad as has been reported."</p>
+
+<p>His table mate put down the paper. "Why not? Has there ever been a country
+where the Party was <i>voted</i> into power? Anywhere&mdash;at any time during the
+more than half a century since the Bolsheviks first took over here in
+Russia?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>The other was talking out opinions he'd evidently formed while reading the
+<i>Izvestia</i> account of the Italian elections, not paying particular
+attention to the stranger across from him.</p>
+
+<p>He said, his voice irritated, "Nor will there ever be. They know better.
+In the early days of the revolution the workers might have had illusions
+about the Party and it goals. Now they've lost them. Everywhere, they've
+lost them."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said tightly, "How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean the Party has been rejected. With the exception of China and
+Yugoslavia, both of whom have their own varieties, the only countries that
+have adopted our system have done it under pressure from outside&mdash;not by
+their own efforts. Not by the will of the majority."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov said flatly, "You seem to think that Marxism will never
+dominate the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Marxism!" the other snorted. "If Marx were alive in Russia today, Frol
+Zverev would have him in a Siberian labor camp within twenty-four hours."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov brought forth his wallet and opened it to his police
+credentials. He said coldly, "Let me see your identification papers. You
+are under arrest."</p>
+
+<p>The other stared at him for a moment, then snorted his contempt. He
+brought forth his own wallet and handed it across the table.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov flicked it open, his face hard. He looked at the man. "Konstantin
+Kasatkin."</p>
+
+<p>"Candidate member of the Academy of Sciences," the other snapped. "And
+bearer of the Hero of the Soviet Union award."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov flung the wallet back to him in anger. "And as such, practically
+immune."</p>
+
+<p>The other grinned nastily at him. "Scientists, my police friend, cannot be
+bothered with politics. Where would the Soviet Complex be if you took to
+throwing biologists such as myself into prison for making unguarded
+statements in an absent-minded moment?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov slapped a palm down on the table. "Confound it, Comrade," he
+snapped, "how is the Party to maintain discipline in the country if high
+ranking persons such as yourself speak open subversion to strangers."</p>
+
+<p>The other sported his contempt. "Perhaps there's too much discipline in
+Russia, Comrade policeman."</p>
+
+<p>"Rather, far from enough," Simonov snapped back.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter, at last, approached and extended a menu to the security
+officer. But Ilya Simonov had come to his feet. "Never mind," he clipped
+in disgust. "There is an air of degenerate decay about here."</p>
+
+<p>The waiter stared at him. The biologist snorted and returned to his paper.
+Simonov turned and stormed out. He could find something to eat and drink
+in his own apartment.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The old, old town of Prague, the <i>Golden City of a Hundred Spires</i> was as
+always the beautifully stolid medieval metropolis which even a quarter of
+a century and more of Party rule could not change. The Old Town, nestled
+in a bend of the Vltava River, as no other city in Europe, breathed its
+centuries, its air of yesteryear.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov, in spite of his profession, was not immune to
+beauty. He deliberately failed to notify his new office of his arrival,
+flew in on a Ceskoslovensk&egrave; Aerolinie Tupolev rocket liner and spent his
+first night at the Alcron Hotel just off Wenceslas Square. He knew that as
+the new manager of the local Moskvich distribution agency he'd have
+fairly elaborate quarters, probably in a good section of town, but this
+first night he wanted to himself.</p>
+
+<p>He spent it wandering quietly in the old quarter, dropping in to the
+age-old beer halls for a half liter of Pilsen Urquell here, a foaming
+stein of Smichov Lager there. Czech beer, he was reminded all over again,
+is the best in the world. No argument, no debate, the best in the world.</p>
+
+<p>He ate in the endless automated cafeterias that line the Viclavsk&eacute; N&aacute;mesi
+the entertainment center of Prague. Ate an open sandwich here, some
+crabmeat salad there, a sausage and another glass of Pilsen somewhere else
+again. He was getting the feel of the town and of its people. Of recent
+years, some of the tension had gone out of the atmosphere in Moscow and
+the other Soviet centers; with the coming of economic prosperity there had
+also come a relaxation. The <i>fear</i>, so heavy in the Stalin era, had fallen
+off in that of Khrushchev and still more so in the present reign of Frol
+Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
+whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
+the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
+once dropped.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="500" height="415" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
+even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
+up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
+publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
+cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
+shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
+Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
+issue.</p>
+
+<p>Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
+in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
+subscribe."</p>
+
+<p>A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
+spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
+place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
+hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
+another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
+to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
+your saucer and you paid up.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
+brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.</p>
+
+<p>The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
+by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
+years ago, they have on TV today."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
+his voice expressionless.</p>
+
+<p>The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
+and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
+brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
+these days."</p>
+
+<p>It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
+he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
+was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
+extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
+political subjects.</p>
+
+<p>His cross-the-table neighbor shook his head, obviously pleased. "If you
+think Prague is good, you ought to see Warsaw. It's as free as Paris! I
+saw a Tri-D cinema up there about two months ago. You know what it was
+about? The purges in Moscow back in the 1930s."</p>
+
+<p>"A rather unique subject," Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>"Um-m-m, made a very strong case for Bukharin, in particular."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said, very slowly, "I don't understand. You mean this ... this
+film supported the, ah, Old Bolsheviks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. Why not? Everybody knows they weren't guilty." The Czech
+snorted deprecation. "At least not guilty of what they were charged with.
+They were in Stalin's way and he liquidated them." The Czech thought about
+it for a while. "I wonder if he was already insane, that far back."</p>
+
+<p>Had he taken up his mug of beer and dashed it into Simonov's face, he
+couldn't have surprised the Russian more.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov had to take control of himself. His first instinct was to
+show his credentials, arrest the man and have him hauled up before the
+local agency of Simonov's ministry.</p>
+
+<p>But obviously that was out of the question. He was in Czechoslovakia and,
+although Moscow still dominated the Soviet Complex, there was local
+autonomy and the Czech police just didn't enjoy their affairs being
+meddled with unless in extreme urgency.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, this man was obviously only one among many. A stranger in a beer
+hall. Ilya Simonov suspected that if he continued his wanderings about the
+town, he'd meet in the process of only one evening a score of persons who
+would talk the same way.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, still again, he was here in Prague incognito, his job to trace
+the sources of this dry rot, not to run down individual Czechs.</p>
+
+<p>But the cinema, and TV! Surely anti-Party sentiment hadn't been allowed to
+go this far!</p>
+
+<p>He got up from the table shakily, paid up for his beer and forced himself
+to nod good-bye in friendly fashion to the subversive Czech he'd been
+talking to.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he strolled over to the offices of the Moskvich Agency
+which was located only a few blocks from his hotel on Celetna Hybernski.
+The Russian car agency, he knew, was having a fairly hard go of it in
+Prague and elsewhere in Czechoslovakia. The Czechs, long before the Party
+took over in 1948, had been a highly industrialized, modern nation. They
+consequently had their own automobile works, such as Skoda, and their
+models were locally more popular than the Russian Moskvich, Zim and
+Pobeda.</p>
+
+<p>Theoretically, the reason Ilya Simonov was the newly appointed agency head
+was to push Moskvich sales among the Czechs. He thought, half humorously,
+half sourly, to himself, even under the Party we have competition and
+pressure for higher sales. What was it that some American economist had
+called them? a system of State-Capitalism.</p>
+
+<p>At the Moskvich offices he found himself in command of a staff that
+consisted of three fellow Russians, and a dozen or so Czech assistants.
+His immediate subordinate was a Catherina Panova, whose dossier revealed
+her to be a party member, though evidently not a particularly active one,
+at least not since she'd been assigned here in Prague.</p>
+
+<p>She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University of
+Moscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of six
+months or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that the
+style-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besides
+that, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girls
+Ilya Simonov had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.
+Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom were
+of the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking at
+this new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go by
+without more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actual
+identity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checked
+himself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of complete
+secrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquainted
+with his presence.</p>
+
+<p>He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the local
+methods of going about their business affairs and the problems they were
+running into.</p>
+
+<p>She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, and
+said, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a whole
+set of new methods."</p>
+
+<p>It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,
+"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your present
+policies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a few
+months, we'll come up with some ideas."</p>
+
+<p>She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staff
+had been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He already
+felt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return to
+their homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia that
+appealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possible
+changes myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we can
+discuss them informally."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous with
+him. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.
+She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Of
+course, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't even
+revealed to her his own membership.</p>
+
+<p>As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of the
+new Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,
+drink, dancing&mdash;and each other.</p>
+
+<p>They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungarian
+dishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. It
+occurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derived
+from the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman in
+the establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was a
+certain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half the
+other males present were following you in envy.</p>
+
+<p>One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, the
+Hungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,
+distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, required
+learning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had the
+knack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviously
+necessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, which
+even with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in the
+Soviet Complex.</p>
+
+<p>They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at the
+Prazsk&eacute; Variet&eacute;.</p>
+
+<p>They took in the show at the U Sv Tom&iacute;se, the age old tavern which had
+been making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. And
+here Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tables
+taught him the correct pronunciation of <i>Na zdrav&iacute;!</i> the Czech toast. It
+seemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the new
+salutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,
+Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoes
+involved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow or
+Leningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was even
+a caricature of a security police minister who could only have been his
+superior Kliment Blagonravov.</p>
+
+<p>They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The Good
+Soldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classic
+were framed on the walls.</p>
+
+<p>They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonov
+looked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."</p>
+
+<p>"Fine," she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I mean
+tonight."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving our
+operations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightly
+practice of carrying on like we did this evening."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."</p>
+
+<p>He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that he
+hardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. For
+that matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritated
+him.</p>
+
+<p>He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"</p>
+
+<p>Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to be
+an automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a security
+police agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you mean
+another man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."</p>
+
+<p>"A meeting! It sounds dry as&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.
+We're to be addressed by an American journalist."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was all but sober.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise had
+precipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," she
+said. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open things
+are here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"</p>
+
+<p>She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather to
+hear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,
+of course, <i>theoretically</i> it's illegal, but for that matter even the head
+of the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advanced
+intellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know a
+dozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."</p>
+
+<p>"But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is he
+accredited?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across some
+Prague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of the
+press."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, why
+don't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sober
+now.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. He
+mentioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czech
+capital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. He
+reported&mdash;although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have the
+information&mdash;hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the Old
+Bolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, with
+its caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then after
+hesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidently
+belonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to a
+talk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspices
+of the Czech Party nor the government.</p>
+
+<p>At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She ticked
+it off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and borovika
+gin&mdash;we should have know better."</p>
+
+<p>He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should have
+stuck to vodka."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,
+rather than a carouse."</p>
+
+<p>Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, Catherina
+Panova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, and
+still look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined with
+improperly tanned suede.</p>
+
+<p>He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it worked
+smoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czech
+employees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of his
+evening on the town had somehow spread, and the fact that he was prone to
+a good time had relieved their fears of a martinet sent down from the
+central offices. They were beginning to relax in his presence.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, they relaxed to the point where one of the girls didn't even
+bother to hide the book she was reading during a period where there was a
+lull in activity. It was Pasternak's "Doctor Zhivago."</p>
+
+<p>He frowned remembering vaguely the controversy over the book a couple of
+decades earlier. Ilya Simonov said, "Pasternak. Do they print his works
+here in Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl shrugged and looked at the back of the cover. "German publisher,"
+she said idly. "Printed in Frankfurt."</p>
+
+<p>He kept his voice from registering either surprise or disapproval. "You
+mean such books are imported? By whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not imported by an official agency, but we Czechs are doing a good
+deal more travel than we used to. Business trips, tourist trips,
+vacations. And, of course, we bring back books you can't get here." She
+shrugged again. "Very common."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said blankly. "But the customs. The border police&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She smiled in a manner that suggested he lacked sophistication. "They
+never bother any more. They're human, too."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov wandered off. He was astonished at the extent to which
+controls were slipping in a satellite country. There seemed practically no
+discipline, in the old sense, at all. He began to see one reason why his
+superior had sent him here to Prague. For years, most of his work had been
+either in Moscow or in the newly opened industrial areas in Siberia. He
+had lost touch with developments in this part of the Soviet Complex.</p>
+
+<p>It came to him that this sort of thing could work like a geometric
+progression. Give a man a bit of rope one day, and he expects, and takes,
+twice as much the next, and twice that the next. And as with individuals,
+so with whole populations.</p>
+
+<p>This was going to have to be stopped soon, or Party control would
+disappear. Ilya Simonov felt an edge of uncertainty. Nikita Khrushchev
+should never have made those first motions of liberalization following
+Stalin's death. Not if they eventually culminated in this sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>He and Catherina drove to her meeting place that evening after dinner.</p>
+
+<p>She explained as they went that the group was quite informal, usually
+meeting at the homes of group members who had fairly large places in the
+country. She didn't seem to know how it had originally begun. The meetings
+had been going on for a year of more before she arrived in Prague. A Czech
+friend had taken her along one night, and she'd been attending ever since.
+There were other, similar groups, in town.</p>
+
+<p>"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.</p>
+
+<p>She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the
+Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them
+loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised
+immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I
+wonder if he was insane from the first."</p>
+
+<p>He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."</p>
+
+<p>This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run
+into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now,
+"I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."</p>
+
+<p>"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="300" height="893" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on
+vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I
+mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in
+Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular
+purpose of the organization."</p>
+
+<p>She turned the car left on Budensk&aacute; and sped up into the Holesovice
+section of town.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>The nonchalance of it all was what stopped Ilya Simonov. Here was a Party
+member calmly discussing whether or not the greatest Russian of them all,
+after Lenin, had been mad. The implications were, of course, that many of
+the purges, certainly the latter ones, were the result of the whims of a
+mental case, that the Soviet Complex had for long years been ruled by a
+man as unbalanced as Czar Peter the Great.</p>
+
+<p>They pulled up before a rather large house that would have been called a
+dacha back in Moscow. Evidently, Ilya Simonov decided, whoever was
+sponsoring this night's get together, was a man of prominence. He grimaced
+inwardly. A lot of high placed heads were going to roll before he was
+through.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out that the host was Leos Dvorak, the internationally famed
+cinema director and quite an idol of Ilya Simonov in his earlier days when
+he'd found more time for entertainment. It was a shock to meet the man
+under these circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Catherina Panova was obviously quite popular among this gathering. Their
+host gave her an affectionate squeeze in way of greeting, then shook hands
+with Simonov when Catherina introduced him.</p>
+
+<p>"Newly from Moscow, eh?" the film director said, squinting at the security
+agent. He had a sharp glance, almost, it seemed to Simonov, as though he
+detected the real nature of the newcomer. "It's been several years since
+I've been to Moscow. Are things loosening up there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Loosening up?" Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>Leos Dvorak laughed and said to Catherina, "Probably not. I've always been
+of the opinion that the Party's influence would shrivel away first at its
+extremities. Membership would fall off abroad, in the neutral countries
+and in Common Europe and the Americas. Then in the so-called satellite
+countries. Last of all in Russia herself. But, very last, Moscow&mdash;the
+dullest, stodgiest, most backward intellectually, capital city in the
+world." The director laughed again and turned away to greet a new guest.</p>
+
+<p>This was open treason. Ilya Simonov had been lucky. Within the first few
+days of being in the Czech capital he'd contacted one of the groups which
+he'd been sent to unmask.</p>
+
+<p>Now he said mildly to Catherina Panova, "He seems rather outspoken."</p>
+
+<p>She chuckled. "Leos is quite strongly opinionated. His theory is that the
+more successful the Party is in attaining the goals it set half a century
+ago, the less necessary it becomes. He's of the opinion that it will
+eventually atrophy, shrivel away to the point that all that will be needed
+will be the slightest of pushes to end its domination."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said, "And the rest of the group here, do they agree?"</p>
+
+<p>Catherina shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Some of them are of the opinion
+that it will take another blood bath. That the party will attempt to hang
+onto its power and will have to be destroyed."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said evenly, "And you? What do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>She frowned, prettily. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'm still in the process
+of forming an opinion."</p>
+
+<p>Their host was calling them together and leading the way to the garden
+where chairs had been set up. There seemed to be about twenty-five persons
+present in all. Ilya Simonov had been introduced to no more than half of
+them. His memory was good and already he was composing a report to Kliment
+Blagonravov, listing those names he recalled. Some were Czechs, some
+citizens of other satellite countries, several, including Catherina, were
+actually Russians.</p>
+
+<p>The American, a newspaperman named Dickson, had an open-faced freshness,
+hardly plausible in an agent from the West trying to subvert Party
+leadership. Ilya Simonov couldn't quite figure him out.</p>
+
+<p>Dickson was introduced by Leos Dvorak who informed his guests that the
+American had been reluctant but had finally agreed to give them his
+opinion on the press on both sides of what had once been called the Iron
+Curtain.</p>
+
+<p>Dickson grinned boyishly and said, "I'm not a public speaker, and, for
+that matter, I haven't had time to put together a talk for you. I think
+what I'll do is read a little clipping I've got here&mdash;sort of a text&mdash;and
+then, well, throw the meeting open to questions. I'll try to answer
+anything you have to ask."</p>
+
+<p>He brought forth a piece of paper. "This is from the British writer,
+Huxley. I think it's pretty good." He cleared his voice and began to read.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mass communication ... is simply a force and like any other force, it can
+be used either well or ill. Used one way, the press, the radio and the
+cinema are indispensible to the survival of democracy. Used in another
+way, they are among the most powerful weapons in the dictator's armory. In
+the field of mass communications as in almost every other field of
+enterprise, technological progress has hurt the Little Man and helped the
+Big Man. As lately as fifty years ago, every democratic country could
+boast of a great number of small journals and local newspapers. Thousands
+of country editors expressed thousands of independent opinions. Somewhere
+or other almost anybody could get almost anything printed. Today the press
+is still legally free; but most of the little papers have disappeared. The
+cost of wood pulp, of modern printing machinery and of syndicated news is
+too high for the Little Man. In the totalitarian East there is political
+censorship, and the media of mass communications are controlled by the
+State. In the democratic West there is economic censorship and the media
+of mass communication are controlled by members of the Power Elite.
+Censorship by rising costs and the concentration of communication-power in
+the hands of a few big concerns is less objectionable than State Ownership
+and government propaganda; but certainly it is not something to which a
+Jeffersonian democrat could approve.</i></p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked blankly at Catherina and whispered, "Why, what he's
+reading is as much an attack on the West as it is on us."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him and whispered back, "Well, why not? This gathering is to
+discuss freedom of the press."</p>
+
+<p>He said blankly, "But as an agent of the West&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She frowned at him. "Mr. Dickson isn't an agent of the West. He's an
+American journalist."</p>
+
+<p>"Surely you can't believe he has no connections with the imperialist
+governments."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, he hasn't. What sort of meeting do you think this is? We're
+not interested in Western propaganda. We're a group of intellectuals
+searching for freedom of ideas."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was taken back once again.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov dismissed his cab in front of the Ministry and walked
+toward the gate. Down the street the same plainclothes man, who had been
+lounging there the last time he'd reported, once again took him in, then
+looked away. The two guards snapped to attention, and the security agent
+strode by them unnoticing.</p>
+
+<p>At the lieutenant's desk, before the offices of Kliment Blagonravov, he
+stopped and said, "Colonel Simonov. I have no appointment but I think the
+Minister will see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Comrade Colonel," the lieutenant said. He spoke into an inter-office
+communicator, then looked up. "Minister Blagonravov will be able to see
+you in a few minutes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov stared nervously and unseeingly out a window while he waited.
+Gorki Park lay across the way. It, like Moscow in general, had changed a
+good deal in Simonov's memory. Everything in Russia had changed a good
+deal, he realized. And was changing. And what was the end to be? Or was
+there ever an end? Of course not. There is no end, ever. Only new changes
+to come.</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant said, "The Minister is free now, Comrade Colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
+heavy door.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
+It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"</p>
+
+<p>His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
+before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
+"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
+from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
+you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
+I'd think there was a woman."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked at him wanly. "That too, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"You are jesting!"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not really. I had hoped to become engaged&mdash;soon."</p>
+
+<p>"A party member? I never thought of you as the marrying type, Ilya."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said slowly, "Yes, a Party member. Catherina Panova, my assistant
+in the automobile agency in Prague."</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov scowled heavily at him, put forth his fat lips in a thoughtful
+pout. He came to his feet, approached a file cabinet, fishing from his
+pocket a key ring. He unlocked the cabinet, brought forth a sheaf of
+papers with which he returned to his desk. He fumbled though them for a
+moment, found the paper he wanted and read it. He scowled again and looked
+up at his agent.</p>
+
+<p>"Your first report," he said. "Catherina Panova. From what you say here, a
+dangerous reactionary. Certainly she has no place in Party ranks."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said, "Is that the complete file of my assignment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I've kept it here in my own office. I've wanted this to be
+ultra-undercover. No one except you and me. I had hopes of you working
+your way up into the enemy's organization, and I wanted no possible chance
+of you being betrayed. You don't seem to have been too successful."</p>
+
+<p>"I was as successful as it's possible to be."</p>
+
+<p>The security minister leaned forward. "Ah ha! I knew I could trust you to
+bring back results, Ilya. This will take Frol Zverev's pressure off me.
+Number One has been riding me hard." Blagonravov poured them both another
+drink. "You were able to insert yourself into their higher circles?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said, "Kliment, there are no higher circles."</p>
+
+<p>His chief glared at him. "Nonsense!" He tapped the file with a pudgy
+finger. "In your early reports you described several groups, small
+organizations, illegal meetings. There must be an upper organization, some
+movement supported from the West most likely."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was shaking his head. "No. They're all spontaneous."</p>
+
+<p>His chief growled, "I tell you there are literally thousands of these
+little groups. That hardly sounds like a spontaneous phenomenon."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless, that is what my investigations have led me to believe."</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov glowered at him, uncertainly. Finally, he said, "Well,
+confound it, you've spent the better part of a year among them. What's it
+all about? What do they want?"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said flatly, "They want freedom, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"Freedom! What do you mean, freedom? The Soviet Complex is the most highly
+industrialized area of the world. Our people have the highest standard of
+living anywhere. Don't they understand? We've met all the promises we ever
+made. We've reached far and beyond the point ever dreamed of by Utopians.
+The people, all of the people, have it made as the Americans say."</p>
+
+<p>"Except for freedom," Simonov said doggedly. "These groups are springing
+up everywhere, spontaneously. Thus far, perhaps, our ministry has been
+able to suppress some of them. But the pace is accelerating. They aren't
+inter-organized now. But how soon they'll start to be, I don't know.
+Sooner or later, someone is going to come up with a unifying idea. A new
+socio-political system to advocate a way of guaranteeing the basic
+liberties. Then, of course, the fat will be in the fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Ilya! You've been working too hard. I've pushed you too much, relied on
+you too much. You need a good lengthy vacation."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shrugged. "Perhaps. But what I've just said is the truth."</p>
+
+<p>His chief snorted heavily. "You half sound as though you agree with them."</p>
+
+<p>"I do, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"I am in no mood for gags, as the Yankees say."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked at him wearily. He said slowly, "You sent me to
+investigate an epidemic, a spreading disease. Very well, I report that
+it's highly contagious."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Blagonravov poured himself more vodka angrily. "Explain yourself. What's
+this all about?"</p>
+
+<p>His former best field man said, "Kliment&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I want no familiarities from you, colonel!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir." Ilya Simonov went on doggedly. "Man never achieves complete
+freedom. It's a goal never reached, but one continually striven for. The
+moment as small a group as two or three gather together, all of them must
+give up some of the individual's freedom. When man associates with
+millions of his fellow men, he gives up a good many freedoms for the sake
+of the community. But always he works to retain as much liberty as
+possible, and to gain more. It's the nature of our species, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"You sound as though you've become corrupted by Western ideas," the
+security head muttered dangerously.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shook his head. "No. The same thing applies over there. Even in
+countries such as Sweden and Switzerland, where institutions are as free
+as anywhere in the world, the people are continually striving for more.
+Governments and socio-economic systems seem continually to whittle away at
+individual liberty. But always man fights back and tries to achieve new
+heights for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"In the name of developing our country, the Party all but eliminated
+freedom in the Soviet Complex, but now the goals have been reached and the
+people will no longer put up with us, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Us!</i>" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
+considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
+you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
+to escape over the border into the West."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
+reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
+some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."</p>
+
+<p>The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
+in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
+fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
+either in prison or in their graves."</p>
+
+<p>With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
+model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
+virtues as guns go.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you mad!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
+feet and reached for them.</p>
+
+<p>With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
+beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
+heavy military revolver.</p>
+
+<p>And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
+silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
+his heavy swivel chair.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
+see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
+dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
+and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
+pulverized.</p>
+
+<p>He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
+turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.</p>
+
+<p>He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
+under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
+bothered under any circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"But it was an appointment with Number One!"</p>
+
+<p>That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
+canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
+bother him under any circumstances for the next hour."</p>
+
+<p>He left the other and strode down the corridor, keeping himself from too
+obvious, a quickened pace.</p>
+
+<p>At the entrance to the Ministry, he shot his glance up and down the
+street. He was in the clutch now, and knew it. He had few illusions.</p>
+
+<p>Not a cab in sight. He began to cross the road toward the park. In a
+matter of moments there, he'd be lost in the trees and shrubbery. He had
+rather vague plans. Actually, he was playing things as they came. There
+was a close friend in whose apartment he could hide, a man who owed him
+his life. He could disguise himself. Possibly buy or borrow a car. If he
+could get back to Prague, he was safe. Perhaps he and Catherina could
+defect to the West.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody was screaming something from a window in the Ministry.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov quickened his pace. He was nearly across the street now. He
+thought, foolishly, <i>Whoever that is shouting is so excited he sounds more
+like a woman than a man.</i></p>
+
+<p>Another voice took up the shout. It was the plainclothes man. Feet began
+pounding.</p>
+
+<p>There were two more shouts. The guards. But he was across now. The shrubs
+were only a foot away.</p>
+
+<p>The shattering blackness hit him in the back of the head. It was over
+immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards, the plainclothes man and the two guards stood over him. Men
+began pouring from the Ministry in their direction.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov was a meaningless, bloody heap on the edge of the
+park's grass.</p>
+
+<p>The guard who had shot said, "He killed the Minister. He must have been
+crazy to think he could get away with it. What did he want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll never know now," the plainclothesman grunted.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30338 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #30338 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30338)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Freedom
+
+Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+Illustrator: Schoenherr
+
+Release Date: October 26, 2009 [EBook #30338]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREEDOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction February 1961.
+  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright
+  on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+                               FREEDOM
+
+
+                           by MACK REYNOLDS
+
+
+                      Illustrated by Schoenherr
+
+
+     _Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so
+      catching--like a plague--even the doctors get it._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov tooled his Zil aircushion convertible along the edge
+of Red Square, turned right immediately beyond St. Basil's Cathedral,
+crossed the Moscow River by the Moskvocetski Bridge and debouched into the
+heavy, and largely automated traffic of Pyarnikskaya. At Dobryninskaya
+Square he turned west to Gorki Park which he paralleled on Kaluga until he
+reached the old baroque palace which housed the Ministry.
+
+There were no flags, no signs, nothing to indicate the present nature of
+the aged Czarist building.
+
+He left the car at the curb, slamming its door behind him and walking
+briskly to the entrance. Hard, handsome in the Slavic tradition,
+dedicated, Ilya Simonov was young for his rank. A plainclothes man, idling
+a hundred feet down the street, eyed him briefly then turned his attention
+elsewhere. The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes
+straight ahead. Colonel Simonov was in mufti and didn't answer the salute.
+
+The inside of the old building was well known to him. He went along marble
+halls which contained antique statuary and other relics of the past which,
+for unknown reason, no one had ever bothered to remove. At the heavy door
+which entered upon the office of his destination he came to a halt and
+spoke briefly to the lieutenant at the desk there.
+
+"The Minister is expecting me," Simonov clipped.
+
+The lieutenant did the things receptionists do everywhere and looked up in
+a moment to say, "Go right in, Colonel Simonov."
+
+Minister Kliment Blagonravov looked up from his desk at Simonov's
+entrance. He was a heavy-set man, heavy of face and he still affected the
+shaven head, now rapidly disappearing among upper-echelons of the Party.
+His jacket had been thrown over the back of a chair and his collar
+loosened; even so there was a sheen of sweat on his face.
+
+He looked up at his most trusted field man, said in the way of greeting,
+"Ilya," and twisted in his swivel chair to a portable bar. He swung open
+the door of the small refrigerator and emerged with a bottle of
+Stolichnaya vodka. He plucked two three-ounce glasses from a shelf and
+pulled the bottle's cork with his teeth. "Sit down, sit down, Ilya," he
+grunted as he filled the glasses. "How was Magnitogorsk?"
+
+Ilya Simonov secured his glass before seating himself in one of the room's
+heavy leathern chairs. He sighed, relaxed, and said, "Terrible, I loath
+those ultra-industrialized cities. I wonder if the Americans do any better
+with Pittsburgh or the British with Birmingham."
+
+"I know what you mean," the security head rumbled. "How did you make out
+with you assignment, Ilya?"
+
+Colonel Simonov frowned down into the colorlessness of the vodka before
+dashing it back over his palate. "It's all in my report, Kliment." He was
+the only man in the organization who called Blagonravov by his first name.
+
+His chief grunted again and reached forward to refill the glass. "I'm sure
+it is. Do you know how many reports go across this desk daily? And did you
+know that Ilya Simonov is the most long-winded, as the Americans say, of
+my some two hundred first-line operatives?"
+
+The colonel shifted in his chair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll keep that in
+mind."
+
+His chief rumbled his sour version of a chuckle. "Nothing, nothing, Ilya.
+I was jesting. However, give me a brief of your mission."
+
+Ilya Simonov frowned again at his refilled vodka glass but didn't take it
+up for a moment. "A routine matter," he said. "A dozen or so engineers and
+technicians, two or three fairly high-ranking scientists, and three or
+four of the local intelligentsia had formed some sort of informal club.
+They were discussing national and international affairs."
+
+Kliment Blagonravov's thin eyebrows went up but he waited for the other to
+go on.
+
+Ilya said impatiently, "It was the ordinary. They featured complete
+freedom of opinion and expression in their weekly get-togethers. They
+began by criticizing without extremism, local affairs, matters concerned
+with their duties, that sort of thing. In the beginning, they even sent a
+few letters of protest to the local press, signing the name of the club.
+After their ideas went further out, they didn't dare do that, of course."
+
+He took up his second drink and belted it back, not wanting to give it
+time to lose its chill.
+
+His chief filled in. "And they delved further and further into matters
+that should be discussed only within the party--if even there--until they
+arrived at what point?"
+
+Colonel Simonov shrugged. "Until they finally got to the point of
+discussing how best to overthrow the Soviet State and what socio-economic
+system should follow it. The usual thing. I've run into possible two dozen
+such outfits in the past five years."
+
+His chief grunted and tossed back his own drink. "My dear Ilya," he
+rumbled sourly, "I've _run into_, as you say, more than two hundred."
+
+Simonov was taken back by the figure but he only looked at the other.
+
+Blagonravov said, "What did you do about it?"
+
+"Several of them were popular locally. In view of Comrade Zverev's recent
+pronouncements of increased freedom of press and speech, I thought it best
+not to make a public display. Instead, I took measures to charge
+individual members with inefficiency in their work, with corruption or
+graft, or with other crimes having nothing to do with the reality of the
+situation. Six or seven in all were imprisoned, others demoted. Ten or
+twelve I had switched to other cities, principally into more backward
+areas in the virgin lands."
+
+"And the ringleaders?" the security head asked.
+
+"There were two of them, one a research chemist of some prominence, the
+other a steel plane manager. They were both, ah, unfortunately killed in
+an automobile accident while under the influence of drink."
+
+"I see," Blagonravov nodded. "So actually the whole rat's nest was stamped
+out without attention being brought to it so far as the Magnitogorsk
+public is concerned." He nodded heavily again. "You can almost always be
+depended upon to do the right thing, Ilya. If you weren't so confoundedly
+good a field man, I'd make you my deputy."
+
+Which was exactly what Simonov would have hated, but he said nothing.
+
+"One thing," his chief said. "The origin of this, ah, _club_ which turned
+into a tiny underground all of its own. Did you detect the finger of the
+West, stirring up trouble?"
+
+"No." Simonov shook his head. "If such was the case, the agents involved
+were more clever than I'd ordinarily give either America or Common Europe
+credit for. I could be wrong, of course."
+
+"Perhaps," the police head growled. He eyed the bottle before him but made
+no motion toward it. He wiped the palm of his right hand back over his
+bald pate, in unconscious irritation. "But there is something at work that
+we are not getting at." Blagonravov seemed to change subjects. "You can
+speak Czech, so I understand."
+
+"That's right. My mother was from Bratislava. My father met her there
+during the Hitler war."
+
+"And you know Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"I've spent several vacations in the Tatras at such resorts as Tatranski
+Lomnica since the country's been made such a tourist center of the
+satellites." Ilya Simonov didn't understand this trend of the
+conversation.
+
+"You have some knowledge of automobiles, too?"
+
+Simonov shrugged. "I've driven all my life."
+
+His chief rumbled thoughtfully, "Time isn't of essence. You can take a
+quick course at the Moskvich plant. A week or two would give you all the
+background you need."
+
+Ilya laughed easily. "I seem to have missed something. Have my
+shortcomings caught up with me? Am I to be demoted to automobile
+mechanic?"
+
+Kliment Blagonravov became definite. "You are being given the most
+important assignment of your career, Ilya. This rot, this ever growing
+ferment against the Party, must be cut out, liquidated. It seems to fester
+worse among the middle echelons of ... what did that Yugoslavian Djilas
+call us?... the _New Class_. Why? That's what we must know."
+
+He sat farther back in his chair and his heavy lips made a _mout_. "Why,
+Ilya?" he repeated. "After more than half a century the Party has attained
+all its goals. Lenin's millennium is here; the end for which Stalin purged
+ten millions and more, is reached; the sacrifices demanded by Khrushchev
+in the Seven-Year Plans have finally paid off, as the Yankees say. Our
+gross national product, our per capita production, our standard of living,
+is the highest in the world. Sacrifices are no longer necessary."
+
+There had been an almost whining note in his voice. But now he broke it
+off. He poured them still another drink. "At any rate, Ilya, I was with
+Frol Zverev this morning. Number One is incensed. It seems that in the
+Azerbaijan Republic, for one example, that even the Komsomols were
+circulating among themselves various proscribed books and pamphlets.
+Comrade Zverev instructed me to concentrate on discovering the reason for
+this disease."
+
+Colonel Simonov scowled. "What's this got to do with Czechoslovakia--and
+automobiles?"
+
+The security head waggled a fat finger at him. "What we've been doing,
+thus far, is dashing forth upon hearing of a new conflagration and
+stamping it out. Obviously, that's no answer. We must find who is behind
+it. How it begins. Why it begins. That's your job?"
+
+"Why Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"You're unknown as a security agent there, for one thing. You will go to
+Prague and become manager of the Moskvich automobile distribution agency.
+No one, not even the Czech unit of our ministry will be aware of your
+identity. You will play it by ear, as the Americans say."
+
+"To whom do I report?"
+
+"Only to me, until the task is completed. When it is, you will return to
+Moscow and report fully." A grimace twisted Blagonravov's face. "If I am
+still here. Number One is truly incensed, Ilya."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There had been some more. Kliment Blagonravov had evidently chosen Prague,
+the capital of Czechoslovakia, as the seat of operations in a suspicion
+that the wave of unrest spreading insidiously throughout the Soviet
+Complex owed its origins to the West. Thus far, there had been no evidence
+of this but the suspicion refused to die. If not the West, then who? The
+Cold War was long over but the battle for men's minds continued even in
+peace.
+
+Ideally, Ilya Simonov was to infiltrate whatever Czech groups might be
+active in the illicit movement and then, if he discovered there was a
+higher organization, a center of the movement, he was to attempt to become
+a part of it. If possible he was to rise in the organisation to as high a
+point as he could.
+
+Blagonravov, Minister of the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_, the
+Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-Revolution and Sabotage,
+was of the opinion that if this virus of revolt was originating from the
+West, then it would be stronger in the satellite countries than in Russia
+itself. Simonov held no opinion as yet. He would wait and see. However,
+there was an uncomfortable feeling about the whole assignment. The group
+in Magnitogorsk, he was all but sure, had no connections with Western
+agents, nor anyone else, for that matter. Of course, it might have been an
+exception.
+
+He left the Ministry, his face thoughtful as he climbed into his waiting
+Zil. This assignment was going to be a lengthy one. He'd have to wind up
+various affairs here in Moscow, personal as well as business. He might be
+away for a year or more.
+
+There was a sheet of paper on the seat of his aircushion car. He frowned
+at it. It couldn't have been there before. He picked it up.
+
+It was a mimeographed throw-away.
+
+It was entitled, _FREEDOM_, and it began: _Comrades, more than a hundred
+years ago the founders of scientific socialism, Karl Marx and Frederick
+Engels, explained that the State was incompatible with liberty, that the
+State was an instrument of repression of one class by another. They
+explained that for true freedom ever to exist the State must wither away._
+
+_Under the leadership of Lenin, Stalin, Krushchev and now Zverev, the
+State has become ever stronger. Far from withering away, it continues to
+oppress us. Fellow Russians, it is time we take action! We must...._
+
+Colonel Simonov bounced from his car again, shot his eyes up and down the
+street. He barely refrained from drawing the 9 mm automatic which nestled
+under his left shoulder and which he knew how to use so well.
+
+He curtly beckoned to the plainclothes man, still idling against the
+building a hundred feet or so up the street. The other approached him,
+touched the brim of his hat in a half salute.
+
+Simonov snapped, "Do you know who I am?"
+
+"Yes, colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov thrust the leaflet forward. "How did this get into my car?"
+
+The other looked at it blankly. "I don't know, Colonel Simonov."
+
+"You've been here all this time?"
+
+"Why, yes colonel."
+
+"With my car in plain sight?"
+
+That didn't seem to call for an answer. The plainclothesman looked
+apprehensive but blank.
+
+Simonov turned on his heel and approached the two guards at the gate. They
+were not more than thirty feet from where he was parked. They came to the
+salute but he growled, "At ease. Look here, did anyone approach my vehicle
+while I was inside?"
+
+One of the soldiers said, "Sir, twenty or thirty people have passed since
+the Comrade colonel entered the Ministry."
+
+The other one said, "Yes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked from the guards to the plainclothes man and back, in
+frustration. Finally he spun on his heel again and re-entered the car. He
+slapped the elevation lever, twisted the wheel sharply, hit the jets pedal
+with his foot and shot into the traffic.
+
+The plainclothes man looked after him and muttered to the guards,
+"Blagonravov's hatchetman. He's killed more men than the plague. A bad one
+to have down on you."
+
+Simonov bowled down the Kaluga at excessive speed. "Driving like a young
+_stilyagi_," he growled in irritation at himself. But, confound it, how
+far had things gone when subversive leaflets were placed in cars parked in
+front of the ministry devoted to combating counter revolution.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He'd been away from Moscow for over a month and the amenities in the smog,
+smoke and coke fumes blanketing industrial complex of Magnitogorsk hadn't
+been particularly of the best. Ilya Simonov headed now for Gorki Street
+and the Baku Restaurant. He had an idea that it was going to be some time
+before the opportunity would be repeated for him to sit down to Zakouski,
+the salty, spicy Russian hors d'oeuvres, and to Siberian pilmeny and a
+bottle of Tsinandali.
+
+The restaurant, as usual, was packed. In irritation, Ilya Simonov stood
+for a while waiting for a table, then, taking the head waiter's advice,
+agreed to share one with a stranger.
+
+The stranger, a bearded little man, who was dwaddling over his Gurievskaya
+kasha dessert while reading _Izvestia_, glanced up at him, unseemingly,
+bobbed his head at Simonov's request to share his table, and returned to
+the newspaper.
+
+The harried waiter took his time in turning up with a menu. Ilya Simonov
+attempted to relax. He had no particular reason to be upset by the leaflet
+found in his car. Obviously, whoever had thrown it there was distributing
+haphazardly. The fact that it was mimeographed, rather than printed, was
+an indication of lack of resources, an amateur affair. But what in the
+world did these people want? What did they want?
+
+The Soviet State was turning out consumer's goods, homes, cars as no
+nation in the world. Vacations were lengthy, working hours short. A
+four-day week, even! What did they _want_? What motivates a man who is
+living on a scale unknown to a Czarist boyar to risk his position, even
+his life! in a stupidly impossible revolt against the country's
+government?
+
+The man across from him snorted in contempt.
+
+He looked over the top of his paper at Smirnov and said, "The election in
+Italy. Ridiculous!"
+
+Ilya Simonov brought his mind back to the present. "How did they turn out?
+I understand the depression is terrible there."
+
+"So I understand," the other said. "The vote turned out as was to be
+expected."
+
+Simonov's eyebrows went up. "The Party has been voted into power?"
+
+"Ha!" the other snorted. "The vote for the Party has fallen off by more
+than a third."
+
+The security colonel scowled at him. "That doesn't sound reasonable, if
+the economic situation is as bad as has been reported."
+
+His table mate put down the paper. "Why not? Has there ever been a country
+where the Party was _voted_ into power? Anywhere--at any time during the
+more than half a century since the Bolsheviks first took over here in
+Russia?"
+
+Simonov looked at him.
+
+The other was talking out opinions he'd evidently formed while reading the
+_Izvestia_ account of the Italian elections, not paying particular
+attention to the stranger across from him.
+
+He said, his voice irritated, "Nor will there ever be. They know better.
+In the early days of the revolution the workers might have had illusions
+about the Party and it goals. Now they've lost them. Everywhere, they've
+lost them."
+
+Ilya Simonov said tightly, "How do you mean?"
+
+"I mean the Party has been rejected. With the exception of China and
+Yugoslavia, both of whom have their own varieties, the only countries that
+have adopted our system have done it under pressure from outside--not by
+their own efforts. Not by the will of the majority."
+
+Colonel Simonov said flatly, "You seem to think that Marxism will never
+dominate the world."
+
+"Marxism!" the other snorted. "If Marx were alive in Russia today, Frol
+Zverev would have him in a Siberian labor camp within twenty-four hours."
+
+Ilya Simonov brought forth his wallet and opened it to his police
+credentials. He said coldly, "Let me see your identification papers. You
+are under arrest."
+
+The other stared at him for a moment, then snorted his contempt. He
+brought forth his own wallet and handed it across the table.
+
+Simonov flicked it open, his face hard. He looked at the man. "Konstantin
+Kasatkin."
+
+"Candidate member of the Academy of Sciences," the other snapped. "And
+bearer of the Hero of the Soviet Union award."
+
+Simonov flung the wallet back to him in anger. "And as such, practically
+immune."
+
+The other grinned nastily at him. "Scientists, my police friend, cannot be
+bothered with politics. Where would the Soviet Complex be if you took to
+throwing biologists such as myself into prison for making unguarded
+statements in an absent-minded moment?"
+
+Simonov slapped a palm down on the table. "Confound it, Comrade," he
+snapped, "how is the Party to maintain discipline in the country if high
+ranking persons such as yourself speak open subversion to strangers."
+
+The other sported his contempt. "Perhaps there's too much discipline in
+Russia, Comrade policeman."
+
+"Rather, far from enough," Simonov snapped back.
+
+The waiter, at last, approached and extended a menu to the security
+officer. But Ilya Simonov had come to his feet. "Never mind," he clipped
+in disgust. "There is an air of degenerate decay about here."
+
+The waiter stared at him. The biologist snorted and returned to his paper.
+Simonov turned and stormed out. He could find something to eat and drink
+in his own apartment.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The old, old town of Prague, the _Golden City of a Hundred Spires_ was as
+always the beautifully stolid medieval metropolis which even a quarter of
+a century and more of Party rule could not change. The Old Town, nestled
+in a bend of the Vltava River, as no other city in Europe, breathed its
+centuries, its air of yesteryear.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov, in spite of his profession, was not immune to
+beauty. He deliberately failed to notify his new office of his arrival,
+flew in on a Ceskoslovenskè Aerolinie Tupolev rocket liner and spent his
+first night at the Alcron Hotel just off Wenceslas Square. He knew that as
+the new manager of the local Moskvich distribution agency he'd have
+fairly elaborate quarters, probably in a good section of town, but this
+first night he wanted to himself.
+
+He spent it wandering quietly in the old quarter, dropping in to the
+age-old beer halls for a half liter of Pilsen Urquell here, a foaming
+stein of Smichov Lager there. Czech beer, he was reminded all over again,
+is the best in the world. No argument, no debate, the best in the world.
+
+He ate in the endless automated cafeterias that line the Viclavské Námesi
+the entertainment center of Prague. Ate an open sandwich here, some
+crabmeat salad there, a sausage and another glass of Pilsen somewhere else
+again. He was getting the feel of the town and of its people. Of recent
+years, some of the tension had gone out of the atmosphere in Moscow and
+the other Soviet centers; with the coming of economic prosperity there had
+also come a relaxation. The _fear_, so heavy in the Stalin era, had fallen
+off in that of Khrushchev and still more so in the present reign of Frol
+Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
+whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
+the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
+once dropped.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
+even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
+up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
+publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
+cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
+shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
+Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!
+
+Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
+issue.
+
+Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
+in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
+subscribe."
+
+A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
+spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
+place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
+hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
+another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
+to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
+your saucer and you paid up.
+
+Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
+brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.
+
+The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
+by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
+years ago, they have on TV today."
+
+"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
+his voice expressionless.
+
+The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
+and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
+brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
+these days."
+
+It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
+he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
+was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
+extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
+political subjects.
+
+His cross-the-table neighbor shook his head, obviously pleased. "If you
+think Prague is good, you ought to see Warsaw. It's as free as Paris! I
+saw a Tri-D cinema up there about two months ago. You know what it was
+about? The purges in Moscow back in the 1930s."
+
+"A rather unique subject," Simonov said.
+
+"Um-m-m, made a very strong case for Bukharin, in particular."
+
+Simonov said, very slowly, "I don't understand. You mean this ... this
+film supported the, ah, Old Bolsheviks?"
+
+"Of course. Why not? Everybody knows they weren't guilty." The Czech
+snorted deprecation. "At least not guilty of what they were charged with.
+They were in Stalin's way and he liquidated them." The Czech thought about
+it for a while. "I wonder if he was already insane, that far back."
+
+Had he taken up his mug of beer and dashed it into Simonov's face, he
+couldn't have surprised the Russian more.
+
+Ilya Simonov had to take control of himself. His first instinct was to
+show his credentials, arrest the man and have him hauled up before the
+local agency of Simonov's ministry.
+
+But obviously that was out of the question. He was in Czechoslovakia and,
+although Moscow still dominated the Soviet Complex, there was local
+autonomy and the Czech police just didn't enjoy their affairs being
+meddled with unless in extreme urgency.
+
+Besides, this man was obviously only one among many. A stranger in a beer
+hall. Ilya Simonov suspected that if he continued his wanderings about the
+town, he'd meet in the process of only one evening a score of persons who
+would talk the same way.
+
+Besides, still again, he was here in Prague incognito, his job to trace
+the sources of this dry rot, not to run down individual Czechs.
+
+But the cinema, and TV! Surely anti-Party sentiment hadn't been allowed to
+go this far!
+
+He got up from the table shakily, paid up for his beer and forced himself
+to nod good-bye in friendly fashion to the subversive Czech he'd been
+talking to.
+
+In the morning he strolled over to the offices of the Moskvich Agency
+which was located only a few blocks from his hotel on Celetna Hybernski.
+The Russian car agency, he knew, was having a fairly hard go of it in
+Prague and elsewhere in Czechoslovakia. The Czechs, long before the Party
+took over in 1948, had been a highly industrialized, modern nation. They
+consequently had their own automobile works, such as Skoda, and their
+models were locally more popular than the Russian Moskvich, Zim and
+Pobeda.
+
+Theoretically, the reason Ilya Simonov was the newly appointed agency head
+was to push Moskvich sales among the Czechs. He thought, half humorously,
+half sourly, to himself, even under the Party we have competition and
+pressure for higher sales. What was it that some American economist had
+called them? a system of State-Capitalism.
+
+At the Moskvich offices he found himself in command of a staff that
+consisted of three fellow Russians, and a dozen or so Czech assistants.
+His immediate subordinate was a Catherina Panova, whose dossier revealed
+her to be a party member, though evidently not a particularly active one,
+at least not since she'd been assigned here in Prague.
+
+She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University of
+Moscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of six
+months or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that the
+style-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besides
+that, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girls
+Ilya Simonov had ever seen.
+
+His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.
+Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom were
+of the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking at
+this new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go by
+without more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.
+
+He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actual
+identity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checked
+himself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of complete
+secrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquainted
+with his presence.
+
+He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the local
+methods of going about their business affairs and the problems they were
+running into.
+
+She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, and
+said, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a whole
+set of new methods."
+
+It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,
+"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your present
+policies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a few
+months, we'll come up with some ideas."
+
+She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staff
+had been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He already
+felt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return to
+their homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia that
+appealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.
+
+Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possible
+changes myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we can
+discuss them informally."
+
+Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous with
+him. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.
+She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Of
+course, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't even
+revealed to her his own membership.
+
+As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of the
+new Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,
+drink, dancing--and each other.
+
+They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungarian
+dishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. It
+occurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derived
+from the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman in
+the establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was a
+certain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half the
+other males present were following you in envy.
+
+One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, the
+Hungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,
+distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, required
+learning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had the
+knack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviously
+necessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.
+
+It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, which
+even with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in the
+Soviet Complex.
+
+They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at the
+Prazské Varieté.
+
+They took in the show at the U Sv Tomíse, the age old tavern which had
+been making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. And
+here Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tables
+taught him the correct pronunciation of _Na zdraví!_ the Czech toast. It
+seemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the new
+salutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.
+
+Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,
+Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoes
+involved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow or
+Leningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was even
+a caricature of a security police minister who could only have been his
+superior Kliment Blagonravov.
+
+They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The Good
+Soldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classic
+were framed on the walls.
+
+They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonov
+looked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."
+
+"Fine," she laughed.
+
+"In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I mean
+tonight."
+
+She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving our
+operations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightly
+practice of carrying on like we did this evening."
+
+He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.
+
+She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."
+
+He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that he
+hardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. For
+that matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritated
+him.
+
+He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"
+
+Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to be
+an automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a security
+police agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you mean
+another man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."
+
+"A meeting! It sounds dry as--"
+
+She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.
+We're to be addressed by an American journalist."
+
+Suddenly he was all but sober.
+
+He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise had
+precipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"
+
+"Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," she
+said. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open things
+are here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."
+
+"I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"
+
+She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather to
+hear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,
+of course, _theoretically_ it's illegal, but for that matter even the head
+of the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advanced
+intellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know a
+dozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."
+
+"But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is he
+accredited?"
+
+"No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across some
+Prague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of the
+press."
+
+"I see," Simonov said.
+
+She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, why
+don't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."
+
+"It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sober
+now.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. He
+mentioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czech
+capital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. He
+reported--although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have the
+information--hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the Old
+Bolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, with
+its caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then after
+hesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidently
+belonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to a
+talk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspices
+of the Czech Party nor the government.
+
+At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She ticked
+it off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and borovika
+gin--we should have know better."
+
+He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should have
+stuck to vodka."
+
+"Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,
+rather than a carouse."
+
+Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, Catherina
+Panova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, and
+still look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined with
+improperly tanned suede.
+
+He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it worked
+smoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czech
+employees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of his
+evening on the town had somehow spread, and the fact that he was prone to
+a good time had relieved their fears of a martinet sent down from the
+central offices. They were beginning to relax in his presence.
+
+In fact, they relaxed to the point where one of the girls didn't even
+bother to hide the book she was reading during a period where there was a
+lull in activity. It was Pasternak's "Doctor Zhivago."
+
+He frowned remembering vaguely the controversy over the book a couple of
+decades earlier. Ilya Simonov said, "Pasternak. Do they print his works
+here in Czechoslovakia?"
+
+The girl shrugged and looked at the back of the cover. "German publisher,"
+she said idly. "Printed in Frankfurt."
+
+He kept his voice from registering either surprise or disapproval. "You
+mean such books are imported? By whom?"
+
+"Oh, not imported by an official agency, but we Czechs are doing a good
+deal more travel than we used to. Business trips, tourist trips,
+vacations. And, of course, we bring back books you can't get here." She
+shrugged again. "Very common."
+
+Simonov said blankly. "But the customs. The border police--"
+
+She smiled in a manner that suggested he lacked sophistication. "They
+never bother any more. They're human, too."
+
+Ilya Simonov wandered off. He was astonished at the extent to which
+controls were slipping in a satellite country. There seemed practically no
+discipline, in the old sense, at all. He began to see one reason why his
+superior had sent him here to Prague. For years, most of his work had been
+either in Moscow or in the newly opened industrial areas in Siberia. He
+had lost touch with developments in this part of the Soviet Complex.
+
+It came to him that this sort of thing could work like a geometric
+progression. Give a man a bit of rope one day, and he expects, and takes,
+twice as much the next, and twice that the next. And as with individuals,
+so with whole populations.
+
+This was going to have to be stopped soon, or Party control would
+disappear. Ilya Simonov felt an edge of uncertainty. Nikita Khrushchev
+should never have made those first motions of liberalization following
+Stalin's death. Not if they eventually culminated in this sort of thing.
+
+He and Catherina drove to her meeting place that evening after dinner.
+
+She explained as they went that the group was quite informal, usually
+meeting at the homes of group members who had fairly large places in the
+country. She didn't seem to know how it had originally begun. The meetings
+had been going on for a year of more before she arrived in Prague. A Czech
+friend had taken her along one night, and she'd been attending ever since.
+There were other, similar groups, in town.
+
+"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.
+
+She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the
+Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them
+loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised
+immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I
+wonder if he was insane from the first."
+
+He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.
+
+"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."
+
+This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run
+into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now,
+"I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"
+
+"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."
+
+"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on
+vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I
+mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in
+Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular
+purpose of the organization."
+
+She turned the car left on Budenská and sped up into the Holesovice
+section of town.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The nonchalance of it all was what stopped Ilya Simonov. Here was a Party
+member calmly discussing whether or not the greatest Russian of them all,
+after Lenin, had been mad. The implications were, of course, that many of
+the purges, certainly the latter ones, were the result of the whims of a
+mental case, that the Soviet Complex had for long years been ruled by a
+man as unbalanced as Czar Peter the Great.
+
+They pulled up before a rather large house that would have been called a
+dacha back in Moscow. Evidently, Ilya Simonov decided, whoever was
+sponsoring this night's get together, was a man of prominence. He grimaced
+inwardly. A lot of high placed heads were going to roll before he was
+through.
+
+It turned out that the host was Leos Dvorak, the internationally famed
+cinema director and quite an idol of Ilya Simonov in his earlier days when
+he'd found more time for entertainment. It was a shock to meet the man
+under these circumstances.
+
+Catherina Panova was obviously quite popular among this gathering. Their
+host gave her an affectionate squeeze in way of greeting, then shook hands
+with Simonov when Catherina introduced him.
+
+"Newly from Moscow, eh?" the film director said, squinting at the security
+agent. He had a sharp glance, almost, it seemed to Simonov, as though he
+detected the real nature of the newcomer. "It's been several years since
+I've been to Moscow. Are things loosening up there?"
+
+"Loosening up?" Simonov said.
+
+Leos Dvorak laughed and said to Catherina, "Probably not. I've always been
+of the opinion that the Party's influence would shrivel away first at its
+extremities. Membership would fall off abroad, in the neutral countries
+and in Common Europe and the Americas. Then in the so-called satellite
+countries. Last of all in Russia herself. But, very last, Moscow--the
+dullest, stodgiest, most backward intellectually, capital city in the
+world." The director laughed again and turned away to greet a new guest.
+
+This was open treason. Ilya Simonov had been lucky. Within the first few
+days of being in the Czech capital he'd contacted one of the groups which
+he'd been sent to unmask.
+
+Now he said mildly to Catherina Panova, "He seems rather outspoken."
+
+She chuckled. "Leos is quite strongly opinionated. His theory is that the
+more successful the Party is in attaining the goals it set half a century
+ago, the less necessary it becomes. He's of the opinion that it will
+eventually atrophy, shrivel away to the point that all that will be needed
+will be the slightest of pushes to end its domination."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "And the rest of the group here, do they agree?"
+
+Catherina shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Some of them are of the opinion
+that it will take another blood bath. That the party will attempt to hang
+onto its power and will have to be destroyed."
+
+Simonov said evenly, "And you? What do you think?"
+
+She frowned, prettily. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'm still in the process
+of forming an opinion."
+
+Their host was calling them together and leading the way to the garden
+where chairs had been set up. There seemed to be about twenty-five persons
+present in all. Ilya Simonov had been introduced to no more than half of
+them. His memory was good and already he was composing a report to Kliment
+Blagonravov, listing those names he recalled. Some were Czechs, some
+citizens of other satellite countries, several, including Catherina, were
+actually Russians.
+
+The American, a newspaperman named Dickson, had an open-faced freshness,
+hardly plausible in an agent from the West trying to subvert Party
+leadership. Ilya Simonov couldn't quite figure him out.
+
+Dickson was introduced by Leos Dvorak who informed his guests that the
+American had been reluctant but had finally agreed to give them his
+opinion on the press on both sides of what had once been called the Iron
+Curtain.
+
+Dickson grinned boyishly and said, "I'm not a public speaker, and, for
+that matter, I haven't had time to put together a talk for you. I think
+what I'll do is read a little clipping I've got here--sort of a text--and
+then, well, throw the meeting open to questions. I'll try to answer
+anything you have to ask."
+
+He brought forth a piece of paper. "This is from the British writer,
+Huxley. I think it's pretty good." He cleared his voice and began to read.
+
+_Mass communication ... is simply a force and like any other force, it can
+be used either well or ill. Used one way, the press, the radio and the
+cinema are indispensible to the survival of democracy. Used in another
+way, they are among the most powerful weapons in the dictator's armory. In
+the field of mass communications as in almost every other field of
+enterprise, technological progress has hurt the Little Man and helped the
+Big Man. As lately as fifty years ago, every democratic country could
+boast of a great number of small journals and local newspapers. Thousands
+of country editors expressed thousands of independent opinions. Somewhere
+or other almost anybody could get almost anything printed. Today the press
+is still legally free; but most of the little papers have disappeared. The
+cost of wood pulp, of modern printing machinery and of syndicated news is
+too high for the Little Man. In the totalitarian East there is political
+censorship, and the media of mass communications are controlled by the
+State. In the democratic West there is economic censorship and the media
+of mass communication are controlled by members of the Power Elite.
+Censorship by rising costs and the concentration of communication-power in
+the hands of a few big concerns is less objectionable than State Ownership
+and government propaganda; but certainly it is not something to which a
+Jeffersonian democrat could approve._
+
+Ilya Simonov looked blankly at Catherina and whispered, "Why, what he's
+reading is as much an attack on the West as it is on us."
+
+She looked at him and whispered back, "Well, why not? This gathering is to
+discuss freedom of the press."
+
+He said blankly, "But as an agent of the West--"
+
+She frowned at him. "Mr. Dickson isn't an agent of the West. He's an
+American journalist."
+
+"Surely you can't believe he has no connections with the imperialist
+governments."
+
+"Certainly, he hasn't. What sort of meeting do you think this is? We're
+not interested in Western propaganda. We're a group of intellectuals
+searching for freedom of ideas."
+
+Ilya Simonov was taken back once again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov dismissed his cab in front of the Ministry and walked
+toward the gate. Down the street the same plainclothes man, who had been
+lounging there the last time he'd reported, once again took him in, then
+looked away. The two guards snapped to attention, and the security agent
+strode by them unnoticing.
+
+At the lieutenant's desk, before the offices of Kliment Blagonravov, he
+stopped and said, "Colonel Simonov. I have no appointment but I think the
+Minister will see me."
+
+"Yes, Comrade Colonel," the lieutenant said. He spoke into an inter-office
+communicator, then looked up. "Minister Blagonravov will be able to see
+you in a few minutes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov stared nervously and unseeingly out a window while he waited.
+Gorki Park lay across the way. It, like Moscow in general, had changed a
+good deal in Simonov's memory. Everything in Russia had changed a good
+deal, he realized. And was changing. And what was the end to be? Or was
+there ever an end? Of course not. There is no end, ever. Only new changes
+to come.
+
+The lieutenant said, "The Minister is free now, Comrade Colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
+heavy door.
+
+Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
+It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"
+
+His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
+before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.
+
+Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
+"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
+from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
+you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
+I'd think there was a woman."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wanly. "That too, Kliment."
+
+"You are jesting!"
+
+"No. Not really. I had hoped to become engaged--soon."
+
+"A party member? I never thought of you as the marrying type, Ilya."
+
+Simonov said slowly, "Yes, a Party member. Catherina Panova, my assistant
+in the automobile agency in Prague."
+
+Blagonravov scowled heavily at him, put forth his fat lips in a thoughtful
+pout. He came to his feet, approached a file cabinet, fishing from his
+pocket a key ring. He unlocked the cabinet, brought forth a sheaf of
+papers with which he returned to his desk. He fumbled though them for a
+moment, found the paper he wanted and read it. He scowled again and looked
+up at his agent.
+
+"Your first report," he said. "Catherina Panova. From what you say here, a
+dangerous reactionary. Certainly she has no place in Party ranks."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "Is that the complete file of my assignment?"
+
+"Yes. I've kept it here in my own office. I've wanted this to be
+ultra-undercover. No one except you and me. I had hopes of you working
+your way up into the enemy's organization, and I wanted no possible chance
+of you being betrayed. You don't seem to have been too successful."
+
+"I was as successful as it's possible to be."
+
+The security minister leaned forward. "Ah ha! I knew I could trust you to
+bring back results, Ilya. This will take Frol Zverev's pressure off me.
+Number One has been riding me hard." Blagonravov poured them both another
+drink. "You were able to insert yourself into their higher circles?"
+
+Simonov said, "Kliment, there are no higher circles."
+
+His chief glared at him. "Nonsense!" He tapped the file with a pudgy
+finger. "In your early reports you described several groups, small
+organizations, illegal meetings. There must be an upper organization, some
+movement supported from the West most likely."
+
+Ilya Simonov was shaking his head. "No. They're all spontaneous."
+
+His chief growled, "I tell you there are literally thousands of these
+little groups. That hardly sounds like a spontaneous phenomenon."
+
+"Nevertheless, that is what my investigations have led me to believe."
+
+Blagonravov glowered at him, uncertainly. Finally, he said, "Well,
+confound it, you've spent the better part of a year among them. What's it
+all about? What do they want?"
+
+Ilya Simonov said flatly, "They want freedom, Kliment."
+
+"Freedom! What do you mean, freedom? The Soviet Complex is the most highly
+industrialized area of the world. Our people have the highest standard of
+living anywhere. Don't they understand? We've met all the promises we ever
+made. We've reached far and beyond the point ever dreamed of by Utopians.
+The people, all of the people, have it made as the Americans say."
+
+"Except for freedom," Simonov said doggedly. "These groups are springing
+up everywhere, spontaneously. Thus far, perhaps, our ministry has been
+able to suppress some of them. But the pace is accelerating. They aren't
+inter-organized now. But how soon they'll start to be, I don't know.
+Sooner or later, someone is going to come up with a unifying idea. A new
+socio-political system to advocate a way of guaranteeing the basic
+liberties. Then, of course, the fat will be in the fire."
+
+"Ilya! You've been working too hard. I've pushed you too much, relied on
+you too much. You need a good lengthy vacation."
+
+Simonov shrugged. "Perhaps. But what I've just said is the truth."
+
+His chief snorted heavily. "You half sound as though you agree with them."
+
+"I do, Kliment."
+
+"I am in no mood for gags, as the Yankees say."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wearily. He said slowly, "You sent me to
+investigate an epidemic, a spreading disease. Very well, I report that
+it's highly contagious."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Blagonravov poured himself more vodka angrily. "Explain yourself. What's
+this all about?"
+
+His former best field man said, "Kliment--"
+
+"I want no familiarities from you, colonel!"
+
+"Yes, sir." Ilya Simonov went on doggedly. "Man never achieves complete
+freedom. It's a goal never reached, but one continually striven for. The
+moment as small a group as two or three gather together, all of them must
+give up some of the individual's freedom. When man associates with
+millions of his fellow men, he gives up a good many freedoms for the sake
+of the community. But always he works to retain as much liberty as
+possible, and to gain more. It's the nature of our species, I suppose."
+
+"You sound as though you've become corrupted by Western ideas," the
+security head muttered dangerously.
+
+Simonov shook his head. "No. The same thing applies over there. Even in
+countries such as Sweden and Switzerland, where institutions are as free
+as anywhere in the world, the people are continually striving for more.
+Governments and socio-economic systems seem continually to whittle away at
+individual liberty. But always man fights back and tries to achieve new
+heights for himself.
+
+"In the name of developing our country, the Party all but eliminated
+freedom in the Soviet Complex, but now the goals have been reached and the
+people will no longer put up with us, sir."
+
+"_Us!_" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
+considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
+you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
+to escape over the border into the West."
+
+Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
+reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
+some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."
+
+The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
+in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
+fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
+either in prison or in their graves."
+
+With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
+model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
+virtues as guns go.
+
+"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.
+
+"Are you mad!"
+
+"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
+feet and reached for them.
+
+With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
+beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
+heavy military revolver.
+
+And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
+silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.
+
+Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
+his heavy swivel chair.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
+see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
+dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
+and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
+pulverized.
+
+He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
+turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.
+
+He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
+under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."
+
+The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
+bothered under any circumstances."
+
+"But it was an appointment with Number One!"
+
+That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
+canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
+bother him under any circumstances for the next hour."
+
+He left the other and strode down the corridor, keeping himself from too
+obvious, a quickened pace.
+
+At the entrance to the Ministry, he shot his glance up and down the
+street. He was in the clutch now, and knew it. He had few illusions.
+
+Not a cab in sight. He began to cross the road toward the park. In a
+matter of moments there, he'd be lost in the trees and shrubbery. He had
+rather vague plans. Actually, he was playing things as they came. There
+was a close friend in whose apartment he could hide, a man who owed him
+his life. He could disguise himself. Possibly buy or borrow a car. If he
+could get back to Prague, he was safe. Perhaps he and Catherina could
+defect to the West.
+
+Somebody was screaming something from a window in the Ministry.
+
+Ilya Simonov quickened his pace. He was nearly across the street now. He
+thought, foolishly, _Whoever that is shouting is so excited he sounds more
+like a woman than a man._
+
+Another voice took up the shout. It was the plainclothes man. Feet began
+pounding.
+
+There were two more shouts. The guards. But he was across now. The shrubs
+were only a foot away.
+
+The shattering blackness hit him in the back of the head. It was over
+immediately.
+
+Afterwards, the plainclothes man and the two guards stood over him. Men
+began pouring from the Ministry in their direction.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov was a meaningless, bloody heap on the edge of the
+park's grass.
+
+The guard who had shot said, "He killed the Minister. He must have been
+crazy to think he could get away with it. What did he want?"
+
+"Well, we'll never know now," the plainclothesman grunted.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
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+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Freedom, by Mack Reynolds
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Freedom
+
+Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+Illustrator: Schoenherr
+
+Release Date: October 26, 2009 [EBook #30338]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREEDOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p>
+<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact &amp; Fiction February 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="347" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h1>FREEDOM</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>by MACK REYNOLDS</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>Illustrated by Schoenherr</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so
+catching&mdash;like a plague&mdash;even the doctors get it.</i></p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="50" height="50" /></div>
+<p>olonel Ilya Simonov tooled his Zil aircushion convertible along the edge
+of Red Square, turned right immediately beyond St. Basil's Cathedral,
+crossed the Moscow River by the Moskvocetski Bridge and debouched into the
+heavy, and largely automated traffic of Pyarnikskaya. At Dobryninskaya
+Square he turned west to Gorki Park which he paralleled on Kaluga until he
+reached the old baroque palace which housed the Ministry.</p>
+
+<p>There were no flags, no signs, nothing to indicate the present nature of
+the aged Czarist building.</p>
+
+<p>He left the car at the curb, slamming its door behind him and walking
+briskly to the entrance. Hard, handsome in the Slavic tradition,
+dedicated, Ilya Simonov was young for his rank. A plainclothes man, idling
+a hundred feet down the street, eyed him briefly then turned his attention
+elsewhere. The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes
+straight ahead. Colonel Simonov was in mufti and didn't answer the salute.</p>
+
+<p>The inside of the old building was well known to him. He went along marble
+halls which contained antique statuary and other relics of the past which,
+for unknown reason, no one had ever bothered to remove. At the heavy door
+which entered upon the office of his destination he came to a halt and
+spoke briefly to the lieutenant at the desk there.</p>
+
+<p>"The Minister is expecting me," Simonov clipped.</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant did the things receptionists do everywhere and looked up in
+a moment to say, "Go right in, Colonel Simonov."</p>
+
+<p>Minister Kliment Blagonravov looked up from his desk at Simonov's
+entrance. He was a heavy-set man, heavy of face and he still affected the
+shaven head, now rapidly disappearing among upper-echelons of the Party.
+His jacket had been thrown over the back of a chair and his collar
+loosened; even so there was a sheen of sweat on his face.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up at his most trusted field man, said in the way of greeting,
+"Ilya," and twisted in his swivel chair to a portable bar. He swung open
+the door of the small refrigerator and emerged with a bottle of
+Stolichnaya vodka. He plucked two three-ounce glasses from a shelf and
+pulled the bottle's cork with his teeth. "Sit down, sit down, Ilya," he
+grunted as he filled the glasses. "How was Magnitogorsk?"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov secured his glass before seating himself in one of the room's
+heavy leathern chairs. He sighed, relaxed, and said, "Terrible, I loath
+those ultra-industrialized cities. I wonder if the Americans do any better
+with Pittsburgh or the British with Birmingham."</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you mean," the security head rumbled. "How did you make out
+with you assignment, Ilya?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov frowned down into the colorlessness of the vodka before
+dashing it back over his palate. "It's all in my report, Kliment." He was
+the only man in the organization who called Blagonravov by his first name.</p>
+
+<p>His chief grunted again and reached forward to refill the glass. "I'm sure
+it is. Do you know how many reports go across this desk daily? And did you
+know that Ilya Simonov is the most long-winded, as the Americans say, of
+my some two hundred first-line operatives?"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel shifted in his chair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll keep that in
+mind."</p>
+
+<p>His chief rumbled his sour version of a chuckle. "Nothing, nothing, Ilya.
+I was jesting. However, give me a brief of your mission."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov frowned again at his refilled vodka glass but didn't take it
+up for a moment. "A routine matter," he said. "A dozen or so engineers and
+technicians, two or three fairly high-ranking scientists, and three or
+four of the local intelligentsia had formed some sort of informal club.
+They were discussing national and international affairs."</p>
+
+<p>Kliment Blagonravov's thin eyebrows went up but he waited for the other to
+go on.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya said impatiently, "It was the ordinary. They featured complete
+freedom of opinion and expression in their weekly get-togethers. They
+began by criticizing without extremism, local affairs, matters concerned
+with their duties, that sort of thing. In the beginning, they even sent a
+few letters of protest to the local press, signing the name of the club.
+After their ideas went further out, they didn't dare do that, of course."</p>
+
+<p>He took up his second drink and belted it back, not wanting to give it
+time to lose its chill.</p>
+
+<p>His chief filled in. "And they delved further and further into matters
+that should be discussed only within the party&mdash;if even there&mdash;until they
+arrived at what point?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov shrugged. "Until they finally got to the point of
+discussing how best to overthrow the Soviet State and what socio-economic
+system should follow it. The usual thing. I've run into possible two dozen
+such outfits in the past five years."</p>
+
+<p>His chief grunted and tossed back his own drink. "My dear Ilya," he
+rumbled sourly, "I've <i>run into</i>, as you say, more than two hundred."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov was taken back by the figure but he only looked at the other.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov said, "What did you do about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Several of them were popular locally. In view of Comrade Zverev's recent
+pronouncements of increased freedom of press and speech, I thought it best
+not to make a public display. Instead, I took measures to charge
+individual members with inefficiency in their work, with corruption or
+graft, or with other crimes having nothing to do with the reality of the
+situation. Six or seven in all were imprisoned, others demoted. Ten or
+twelve I had switched to other cities, principally into more backward
+areas in the virgin lands."</p>
+
+<p>"And the ringleaders?" the security head asked.</p>
+
+<p>"There were two of them, one a research chemist of some prominence, the
+other a steel plane manager. They were both, ah, unfortunately killed in
+an automobile accident while under the influence of drink."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," Blagonravov nodded. "So actually the whole rat's nest was stamped
+out without attention being brought to it so far as the Magnitogorsk
+public is concerned." He nodded heavily again. "You can almost always be
+depended upon to do the right thing, Ilya. If you weren't so confoundedly
+good a field man, I'd make you my deputy."</p>
+
+<p>Which was exactly what Simonov would have hated, but he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"One thing," his chief said. "The origin of this, ah, <i>club</i> which turned
+into a tiny underground all of its own. Did you detect the finger of the
+West, stirring up trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"No." Simonov shook his head. "If such was the case, the agents involved
+were more clever than I'd ordinarily give either America or Common Europe
+credit for. I could be wrong, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," the police head growled. He eyed the bottle before him but made
+no motion toward it. He wiped the palm of his right hand back over his
+bald pate, in unconscious irritation. "But there is something at work that
+we are not getting at." Blagonravov seemed to change subjects. "You can
+speak Czech, so I understand."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. My mother was from Bratislava. My father met her there
+during the Hitler war."</p>
+
+<p>"And you know Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've spent several vacations in the Tatras at such resorts as Tatranski
+Lomnica since the country's been made such a tourist center of the
+satellites." Ilya Simonov didn't understand this trend of the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"You have some knowledge of automobiles, too?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shrugged. "I've driven all my life."</p>
+
+<p>His chief rumbled thoughtfully, "Time isn't of essence. You can take a
+quick course at the Moskvich plant. A week or two would give you all the
+background you need."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya laughed easily. "I seem to have missed something. Have my
+shortcomings caught up with me? Am I to be demoted to automobile
+mechanic?"</p>
+
+<p>Kliment Blagonravov became definite. "You are being given the most
+important assignment of your career, Ilya. This rot, this ever growing
+ferment against the Party, must be cut out, liquidated. It seems to fester
+worse among the middle echelons of ... what did that Yugoslavian Djilas
+call us?... the <i>New Class</i>. Why? That's what we must know."</p>
+
+<p>He sat farther back in his chair and his heavy lips made a <i>mout</i>. "Why,
+Ilya?" he repeated. "After more than half a century the Party has attained
+all its goals. Lenin's millennium is here; the end for which Stalin purged
+ten millions and more, is reached; the sacrifices demanded by Khrushchev
+in the Seven-Year Plans have finally paid off, as the Yankees say. Our
+gross national product, our per capita production, our standard of living,
+is the highest in the world. Sacrifices are no longer necessary."</p>
+
+<p>There had been an almost whining note in his voice. But now he broke it
+off. He poured them still another drink. "At any rate, Ilya, I was with
+Frol Zverev this morning. Number One is incensed. It seems that in the
+Azerbaijan Republic, for one example, that even the Komsomols were
+circulating among themselves various proscribed books and pamphlets.
+Comrade Zverev instructed me to concentrate on discovering the reason for
+this disease."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov scowled. "What's this got to do with Czechoslovakia&mdash;and
+automobiles?"</p>
+
+<p>The security head waggled a fat finger at him. "What we've been doing,
+thus far, is dashing forth upon hearing of a new conflagration and
+stamping it out. Obviously, that's no answer. We must find who is behind
+it. How it begins. Why it begins. That's your job?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're unknown as a security agent there, for one thing. You will go to
+Prague and become manager of the Moskvich automobile distribution agency.
+No one, not even the Czech unit of our ministry will be aware of your
+identity. You will play it by ear, as the Americans say."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom do I report?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only to me, until the task is completed. When it is, you will return to
+Moscow and report fully." A grimace twisted Blagonravov's face. "If I am
+still here. Number One is truly incensed, Ilya."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>There had been some more. Kliment Blagonravov had evidently chosen Prague,
+the capital of Czechoslovakia, as the seat of operations in a suspicion
+that the wave of unrest spreading insidiously throughout the Soviet
+Complex owed its origins to the West. Thus far, there had been no evidence
+of this but the suspicion refused to die. If not the West, then who? The
+Cold War was long over but the battle for men's minds continued even in
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>Ideally, Ilya Simonov was to infiltrate whatever Czech groups might be
+active in the illicit movement and then, if he discovered there was a
+higher organization, a center of the movement, he was to attempt to become
+a part of it. If possible he was to rise in the organisation to as high a
+point as he could.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov, Minister of the <i>Chrezvychainaya Komissiya</i>, the
+Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-Revolution and Sabotage,
+was of the opinion that if this virus of revolt was originating from the
+West, then it would be stronger in the satellite countries than in Russia
+itself. Simonov held no opinion as yet. He would wait and see. However,
+there was an uncomfortable feeling about the whole assignment. The group
+in Magnitogorsk, he was all but sure, had no connections with Western
+agents, nor anyone else, for that matter. Of course, it might have been an
+exception.</p>
+
+<p>He left the Ministry, his face thoughtful as he climbed into his waiting
+Zil. This assignment was going to be a lengthy one. He'd have to wind up
+various affairs here in Moscow, personal as well as business. He might be
+away for a year or more.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sheet of paper on the seat of his aircushion car. He frowned
+at it. It couldn't have been there before. He picked it up.</p>
+
+<p>It was a mimeographed throw-away.</p>
+
+<p>It was entitled, <i>FREEDOM</i>, and it began: <i>Comrades, more than a hundred
+years ago the founders of scientific socialism, Karl Marx and Frederick
+Engels, explained that the State was incompatible with liberty, that the
+State was an instrument of repression of one class by another. They
+explained that for true freedom ever to exist the State must wither away.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Under the leadership of Lenin, Stalin, Krushchev and now Zverev, the
+State has become ever stronger. Far from withering away, it continues to
+oppress us. Fellow Russians, it is time we take action! We must....</i></p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov bounced from his car again, shot his eyes up and down the
+street. He barely refrained from drawing the 9 mm automatic which nestled
+under his left shoulder and which he knew how to use so well.</p>
+
+<p>He curtly beckoned to the plainclothes man, still idling against the
+building a hundred feet or so up the street. The other approached him,
+touched the brim of his hat in a half salute.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov snapped, "Do you know who I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov thrust the leaflet forward. "How did this get into my car?"</p>
+
+<p>The other looked at it blankly. "I don't know, Colonel Simonov."</p>
+
+<p>"You've been here all this time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes colonel."</p>
+
+<p>"With my car in plain sight?"</p>
+
+<p>That didn't seem to call for an answer. The plainclothesman looked
+apprehensive but blank.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov turned on his heel and approached the two guards at the gate. They
+were not more than thirty feet from where he was parked. They came to the
+salute but he growled, "At ease. Look here, did anyone approach my vehicle
+while I was inside?"</p>
+
+<p>One of the soldiers said, "Sir, twenty or thirty people have passed since
+the Comrade colonel entered the Ministry."</p>
+
+<p>The other one said, "Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked from the guards to the plainclothes man and back, in
+frustration. Finally he spun on his heel again and re-entered the car. He
+slapped the elevation lever, twisted the wheel sharply, hit the jets pedal
+with his foot and shot into the traffic.</p>
+
+<p>The plainclothes man looked after him and muttered to the guards,
+"Blagonravov's hatchetman. He's killed more men than the plague. A bad one
+to have down on you."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov bowled down the Kaluga at excessive speed. "Driving like a young
+<i>stilyagi</i>," he growled in irritation at himself. But, confound it, how
+far had things gone when subversive leaflets were placed in cars parked in
+front of the ministry devoted to combating counter revolution.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He'd been away from Moscow for over a month and the amenities in the smog,
+smoke and coke fumes blanketing industrial complex of Magnitogorsk hadn't
+been particularly of the best. Ilya Simonov headed now for Gorki Street
+and the Baku Restaurant. He had an idea that it was going to be some time
+before the opportunity would be repeated for him to sit down to Zakouski,
+the salty, spicy Russian hors d'oeuvres, and to Siberian pilmeny and a
+bottle of Tsinandali.</p>
+
+<p>The restaurant, as usual, was packed. In irritation, Ilya Simonov stood
+for a while waiting for a table, then, taking the head waiter's advice,
+agreed to share one with a stranger.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger, a bearded little man, who was dwaddling over his Gurievskaya
+kasha dessert while reading <i>Izvestia</i>, glanced up at him, unseemingly,
+bobbed his head at Simonov's request to share his table, and returned to
+the newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>The harried waiter took his time in turning up with a menu. Ilya Simonov
+attempted to relax. He had no particular reason to be upset by the leaflet
+found in his car. Obviously, whoever had thrown it there was distributing
+haphazardly. The fact that it was mimeographed, rather than printed, was
+an indication of lack of resources, an amateur affair. But what in the
+world did these people want? What did they want?</p>
+
+<p>The Soviet State was turning out consumer's goods, homes, cars as no
+nation in the world. Vacations were lengthy, working hours short. A
+four-day week, even! What did they <i>want</i>? What motivates a man who is
+living on a scale unknown to a Czarist boyar to risk his position, even
+his life! in a stupidly impossible revolt against the country's
+government?</p>
+
+<p>The man across from him snorted in contempt.</p>
+
+<p>He looked over the top of his paper at Smirnov and said, "The election in
+Italy. Ridiculous!"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov brought his mind back to the present. "How did they turn out?
+I understand the depression is terrible there."</p>
+
+<p>"So I understand," the other said. "The vote turned out as was to be
+expected."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov's eyebrows went up. "The Party has been voted into power?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" the other snorted. "The vote for the Party has fallen off by more
+than a third."</p>
+
+<p>The security colonel scowled at him. "That doesn't sound reasonable, if
+the economic situation is as bad as has been reported."</p>
+
+<p>His table mate put down the paper. "Why not? Has there ever been a country
+where the Party was <i>voted</i> into power? Anywhere&mdash;at any time during the
+more than half a century since the Bolsheviks first took over here in
+Russia?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>The other was talking out opinions he'd evidently formed while reading the
+<i>Izvestia</i> account of the Italian elections, not paying particular
+attention to the stranger across from him.</p>
+
+<p>He said, his voice irritated, "Nor will there ever be. They know better.
+In the early days of the revolution the workers might have had illusions
+about the Party and it goals. Now they've lost them. Everywhere, they've
+lost them."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said tightly, "How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean the Party has been rejected. With the exception of China and
+Yugoslavia, both of whom have their own varieties, the only countries that
+have adopted our system have done it under pressure from outside&mdash;not by
+their own efforts. Not by the will of the majority."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Simonov said flatly, "You seem to think that Marxism will never
+dominate the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Marxism!" the other snorted. "If Marx were alive in Russia today, Frol
+Zverev would have him in a Siberian labor camp within twenty-four hours."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov brought forth his wallet and opened it to his police
+credentials. He said coldly, "Let me see your identification papers. You
+are under arrest."</p>
+
+<p>The other stared at him for a moment, then snorted his contempt. He
+brought forth his own wallet and handed it across the table.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov flicked it open, his face hard. He looked at the man. "Konstantin
+Kasatkin."</p>
+
+<p>"Candidate member of the Academy of Sciences," the other snapped. "And
+bearer of the Hero of the Soviet Union award."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov flung the wallet back to him in anger. "And as such, practically
+immune."</p>
+
+<p>The other grinned nastily at him. "Scientists, my police friend, cannot be
+bothered with politics. Where would the Soviet Complex be if you took to
+throwing biologists such as myself into prison for making unguarded
+statements in an absent-minded moment?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov slapped a palm down on the table. "Confound it, Comrade," he
+snapped, "how is the Party to maintain discipline in the country if high
+ranking persons such as yourself speak open subversion to strangers."</p>
+
+<p>The other sported his contempt. "Perhaps there's too much discipline in
+Russia, Comrade policeman."</p>
+
+<p>"Rather, far from enough," Simonov snapped back.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter, at last, approached and extended a menu to the security
+officer. But Ilya Simonov had come to his feet. "Never mind," he clipped
+in disgust. "There is an air of degenerate decay about here."</p>
+
+<p>The waiter stared at him. The biologist snorted and returned to his paper.
+Simonov turned and stormed out. He could find something to eat and drink
+in his own apartment.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The old, old town of Prague, the <i>Golden City of a Hundred Spires</i> was as
+always the beautifully stolid medieval metropolis which even a quarter of
+a century and more of Party rule could not change. The Old Town, nestled
+in a bend of the Vltava River, as no other city in Europe, breathed its
+centuries, its air of yesteryear.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov, in spite of his profession, was not immune to
+beauty. He deliberately failed to notify his new office of his arrival,
+flew in on a Ceskoslovensk&egrave; Aerolinie Tupolev rocket liner and spent his
+first night at the Alcron Hotel just off Wenceslas Square. He knew that as
+the new manager of the local Moskvich distribution agency he'd have
+fairly elaborate quarters, probably in a good section of town, but this
+first night he wanted to himself.</p>
+
+<p>He spent it wandering quietly in the old quarter, dropping in to the
+age-old beer halls for a half liter of Pilsen Urquell here, a foaming
+stein of Smichov Lager there. Czech beer, he was reminded all over again,
+is the best in the world. No argument, no debate, the best in the world.</p>
+
+<p>He ate in the endless automated cafeterias that line the Viclavsk&eacute; N&aacute;mesi
+the entertainment center of Prague. Ate an open sandwich here, some
+crabmeat salad there, a sausage and another glass of Pilsen somewhere else
+again. He was getting the feel of the town and of its people. Of recent
+years, some of the tension had gone out of the atmosphere in Moscow and
+the other Soviet centers; with the coming of economic prosperity there had
+also come a relaxation. The <i>fear</i>, so heavy in the Stalin era, had fallen
+off in that of Khrushchev and still more so in the present reign of Frol
+Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
+whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
+the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
+once dropped.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="500" height="415" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
+even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
+up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
+publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
+cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
+shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
+Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
+issue.</p>
+
+<p>Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
+in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
+subscribe."</p>
+
+<p>A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
+spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
+place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
+hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
+another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
+to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
+your saucer and you paid up.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
+brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.</p>
+
+<p>The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
+by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
+years ago, they have on TV today."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
+his voice expressionless.</p>
+
+<p>The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
+and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
+brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
+these days."</p>
+
+<p>It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
+he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
+was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
+extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
+political subjects.</p>
+
+<p>His cross-the-table neighbor shook his head, obviously pleased. "If you
+think Prague is good, you ought to see Warsaw. It's as free as Paris! I
+saw a Tri-D cinema up there about two months ago. You know what it was
+about? The purges in Moscow back in the 1930s."</p>
+
+<p>"A rather unique subject," Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>"Um-m-m, made a very strong case for Bukharin, in particular."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said, very slowly, "I don't understand. You mean this ... this
+film supported the, ah, Old Bolsheviks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. Why not? Everybody knows they weren't guilty." The Czech
+snorted deprecation. "At least not guilty of what they were charged with.
+They were in Stalin's way and he liquidated them." The Czech thought about
+it for a while. "I wonder if he was already insane, that far back."</p>
+
+<p>Had he taken up his mug of beer and dashed it into Simonov's face, he
+couldn't have surprised the Russian more.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov had to take control of himself. His first instinct was to
+show his credentials, arrest the man and have him hauled up before the
+local agency of Simonov's ministry.</p>
+
+<p>But obviously that was out of the question. He was in Czechoslovakia and,
+although Moscow still dominated the Soviet Complex, there was local
+autonomy and the Czech police just didn't enjoy their affairs being
+meddled with unless in extreme urgency.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, this man was obviously only one among many. A stranger in a beer
+hall. Ilya Simonov suspected that if he continued his wanderings about the
+town, he'd meet in the process of only one evening a score of persons who
+would talk the same way.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, still again, he was here in Prague incognito, his job to trace
+the sources of this dry rot, not to run down individual Czechs.</p>
+
+<p>But the cinema, and TV! Surely anti-Party sentiment hadn't been allowed to
+go this far!</p>
+
+<p>He got up from the table shakily, paid up for his beer and forced himself
+to nod good-bye in friendly fashion to the subversive Czech he'd been
+talking to.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he strolled over to the offices of the Moskvich Agency
+which was located only a few blocks from his hotel on Celetna Hybernski.
+The Russian car agency, he knew, was having a fairly hard go of it in
+Prague and elsewhere in Czechoslovakia. The Czechs, long before the Party
+took over in 1948, had been a highly industrialized, modern nation. They
+consequently had their own automobile works, such as Skoda, and their
+models were locally more popular than the Russian Moskvich, Zim and
+Pobeda.</p>
+
+<p>Theoretically, the reason Ilya Simonov was the newly appointed agency head
+was to push Moskvich sales among the Czechs. He thought, half humorously,
+half sourly, to himself, even under the Party we have competition and
+pressure for higher sales. What was it that some American economist had
+called them? a system of State-Capitalism.</p>
+
+<p>At the Moskvich offices he found himself in command of a staff that
+consisted of three fellow Russians, and a dozen or so Czech assistants.
+His immediate subordinate was a Catherina Panova, whose dossier revealed
+her to be a party member, though evidently not a particularly active one,
+at least not since she'd been assigned here in Prague.</p>
+
+<p>She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University of
+Moscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of six
+months or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that the
+style-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besides
+that, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girls
+Ilya Simonov had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.
+Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom were
+of the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking at
+this new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go by
+without more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actual
+identity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checked
+himself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of complete
+secrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquainted
+with his presence.</p>
+
+<p>He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the local
+methods of going about their business affairs and the problems they were
+running into.</p>
+
+<p>She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, and
+said, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a whole
+set of new methods."</p>
+
+<p>It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,
+"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your present
+policies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a few
+months, we'll come up with some ideas."</p>
+
+<p>She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staff
+had been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He already
+felt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return to
+their homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia that
+appealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possible
+changes myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we can
+discuss them informally."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous with
+him. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.
+She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Of
+course, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't even
+revealed to her his own membership.</p>
+
+<p>As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of the
+new Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,
+drink, dancing&mdash;and each other.</p>
+
+<p>They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungarian
+dishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. It
+occurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derived
+from the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman in
+the establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was a
+certain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half the
+other males present were following you in envy.</p>
+
+<p>One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, the
+Hungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,
+distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, required
+learning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had the
+knack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviously
+necessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, which
+even with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in the
+Soviet Complex.</p>
+
+<p>They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at the
+Prazsk&eacute; Variet&eacute;.</p>
+
+<p>They took in the show at the U Sv Tom&iacute;se, the age old tavern which had
+been making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. And
+here Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tables
+taught him the correct pronunciation of <i>Na zdrav&iacute;!</i> the Czech toast. It
+seemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the new
+salutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,
+Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoes
+involved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow or
+Leningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was even
+a caricature of a security police minister who could only have been his
+superior Kliment Blagonravov.</p>
+
+<p>They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The Good
+Soldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classic
+were framed on the walls.</p>
+
+<p>They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonov
+looked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."</p>
+
+<p>"Fine," she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I mean
+tonight."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving our
+operations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightly
+practice of carrying on like we did this evening."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."</p>
+
+<p>He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that he
+hardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. For
+that matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritated
+him.</p>
+
+<p>He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"</p>
+
+<p>Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to be
+an automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a security
+police agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you mean
+another man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."</p>
+
+<p>"A meeting! It sounds dry as&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.
+We're to be addressed by an American journalist."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was all but sober.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise had
+precipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," she
+said. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open things
+are here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"</p>
+
+<p>She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather to
+hear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,
+of course, <i>theoretically</i> it's illegal, but for that matter even the head
+of the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advanced
+intellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know a
+dozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."</p>
+
+<p>"But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is he
+accredited?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across some
+Prague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of the
+press."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, why
+don't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sober
+now.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. He
+mentioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czech
+capital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. He
+reported&mdash;although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have the
+information&mdash;hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the Old
+Bolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, with
+its caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then after
+hesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidently
+belonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to a
+talk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspices
+of the Czech Party nor the government.</p>
+
+<p>At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She ticked
+it off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and borovika
+gin&mdash;we should have know better."</p>
+
+<p>He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should have
+stuck to vodka."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,
+rather than a carouse."</p>
+
+<p>Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, Catherina
+Panova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, and
+still look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined with
+improperly tanned suede.</p>
+
+<p>He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it worked
+smoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czech
+employees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of his
+evening on the town had somehow spread, and the fact that he was prone to
+a good time had relieved their fears of a martinet sent down from the
+central offices. They were beginning to relax in his presence.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, they relaxed to the point where one of the girls didn't even
+bother to hide the book she was reading during a period where there was a
+lull in activity. It was Pasternak's "Doctor Zhivago."</p>
+
+<p>He frowned remembering vaguely the controversy over the book a couple of
+decades earlier. Ilya Simonov said, "Pasternak. Do they print his works
+here in Czechoslovakia?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl shrugged and looked at the back of the cover. "German publisher,"
+she said idly. "Printed in Frankfurt."</p>
+
+<p>He kept his voice from registering either surprise or disapproval. "You
+mean such books are imported? By whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not imported by an official agency, but we Czechs are doing a good
+deal more travel than we used to. Business trips, tourist trips,
+vacations. And, of course, we bring back books you can't get here." She
+shrugged again. "Very common."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said blankly. "But the customs. The border police&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She smiled in a manner that suggested he lacked sophistication. "They
+never bother any more. They're human, too."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov wandered off. He was astonished at the extent to which
+controls were slipping in a satellite country. There seemed practically no
+discipline, in the old sense, at all. He began to see one reason why his
+superior had sent him here to Prague. For years, most of his work had been
+either in Moscow or in the newly opened industrial areas in Siberia. He
+had lost touch with developments in this part of the Soviet Complex.</p>
+
+<p>It came to him that this sort of thing could work like a geometric
+progression. Give a man a bit of rope one day, and he expects, and takes,
+twice as much the next, and twice that the next. And as with individuals,
+so with whole populations.</p>
+
+<p>This was going to have to be stopped soon, or Party control would
+disappear. Ilya Simonov felt an edge of uncertainty. Nikita Khrushchev
+should never have made those first motions of liberalization following
+Stalin's death. Not if they eventually culminated in this sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>He and Catherina drove to her meeting place that evening after dinner.</p>
+
+<p>She explained as they went that the group was quite informal, usually
+meeting at the homes of group members who had fairly large places in the
+country. She didn't seem to know how it had originally begun. The meetings
+had been going on for a year of more before she arrived in Prague. A Czech
+friend had taken her along one night, and she'd been attending ever since.
+There were other, similar groups, in town.</p>
+
+<p>"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.</p>
+
+<p>She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the
+Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them
+loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised
+immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I
+wonder if he was insane from the first."</p>
+
+<p>He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."</p>
+
+<p>This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run
+into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now,
+"I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."</p>
+
+<p>"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="300" height="893" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on
+vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I
+mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in
+Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular
+purpose of the organization."</p>
+
+<p>She turned the car left on Budensk&aacute; and sped up into the Holesovice
+section of town.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>The nonchalance of it all was what stopped Ilya Simonov. Here was a Party
+member calmly discussing whether or not the greatest Russian of them all,
+after Lenin, had been mad. The implications were, of course, that many of
+the purges, certainly the latter ones, were the result of the whims of a
+mental case, that the Soviet Complex had for long years been ruled by a
+man as unbalanced as Czar Peter the Great.</p>
+
+<p>They pulled up before a rather large house that would have been called a
+dacha back in Moscow. Evidently, Ilya Simonov decided, whoever was
+sponsoring this night's get together, was a man of prominence. He grimaced
+inwardly. A lot of high placed heads were going to roll before he was
+through.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out that the host was Leos Dvorak, the internationally famed
+cinema director and quite an idol of Ilya Simonov in his earlier days when
+he'd found more time for entertainment. It was a shock to meet the man
+under these circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Catherina Panova was obviously quite popular among this gathering. Their
+host gave her an affectionate squeeze in way of greeting, then shook hands
+with Simonov when Catherina introduced him.</p>
+
+<p>"Newly from Moscow, eh?" the film director said, squinting at the security
+agent. He had a sharp glance, almost, it seemed to Simonov, as though he
+detected the real nature of the newcomer. "It's been several years since
+I've been to Moscow. Are things loosening up there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Loosening up?" Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>Leos Dvorak laughed and said to Catherina, "Probably not. I've always been
+of the opinion that the Party's influence would shrivel away first at its
+extremities. Membership would fall off abroad, in the neutral countries
+and in Common Europe and the Americas. Then in the so-called satellite
+countries. Last of all in Russia herself. But, very last, Moscow&mdash;the
+dullest, stodgiest, most backward intellectually, capital city in the
+world." The director laughed again and turned away to greet a new guest.</p>
+
+<p>This was open treason. Ilya Simonov had been lucky. Within the first few
+days of being in the Czech capital he'd contacted one of the groups which
+he'd been sent to unmask.</p>
+
+<p>Now he said mildly to Catherina Panova, "He seems rather outspoken."</p>
+
+<p>She chuckled. "Leos is quite strongly opinionated. His theory is that the
+more successful the Party is in attaining the goals it set half a century
+ago, the less necessary it becomes. He's of the opinion that it will
+eventually atrophy, shrivel away to the point that all that will be needed
+will be the slightest of pushes to end its domination."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said, "And the rest of the group here, do they agree?"</p>
+
+<p>Catherina shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Some of them are of the opinion
+that it will take another blood bath. That the party will attempt to hang
+onto its power and will have to be destroyed."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said evenly, "And you? What do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>She frowned, prettily. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'm still in the process
+of forming an opinion."</p>
+
+<p>Their host was calling them together and leading the way to the garden
+where chairs had been set up. There seemed to be about twenty-five persons
+present in all. Ilya Simonov had been introduced to no more than half of
+them. His memory was good and already he was composing a report to Kliment
+Blagonravov, listing those names he recalled. Some were Czechs, some
+citizens of other satellite countries, several, including Catherina, were
+actually Russians.</p>
+
+<p>The American, a newspaperman named Dickson, had an open-faced freshness,
+hardly plausible in an agent from the West trying to subvert Party
+leadership. Ilya Simonov couldn't quite figure him out.</p>
+
+<p>Dickson was introduced by Leos Dvorak who informed his guests that the
+American had been reluctant but had finally agreed to give them his
+opinion on the press on both sides of what had once been called the Iron
+Curtain.</p>
+
+<p>Dickson grinned boyishly and said, "I'm not a public speaker, and, for
+that matter, I haven't had time to put together a talk for you. I think
+what I'll do is read a little clipping I've got here&mdash;sort of a text&mdash;and
+then, well, throw the meeting open to questions. I'll try to answer
+anything you have to ask."</p>
+
+<p>He brought forth a piece of paper. "This is from the British writer,
+Huxley. I think it's pretty good." He cleared his voice and began to read.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mass communication ... is simply a force and like any other force, it can
+be used either well or ill. Used one way, the press, the radio and the
+cinema are indispensible to the survival of democracy. Used in another
+way, they are among the most powerful weapons in the dictator's armory. In
+the field of mass communications as in almost every other field of
+enterprise, technological progress has hurt the Little Man and helped the
+Big Man. As lately as fifty years ago, every democratic country could
+boast of a great number of small journals and local newspapers. Thousands
+of country editors expressed thousands of independent opinions. Somewhere
+or other almost anybody could get almost anything printed. Today the press
+is still legally free; but most of the little papers have disappeared. The
+cost of wood pulp, of modern printing machinery and of syndicated news is
+too high for the Little Man. In the totalitarian East there is political
+censorship, and the media of mass communications are controlled by the
+State. In the democratic West there is economic censorship and the media
+of mass communication are controlled by members of the Power Elite.
+Censorship by rising costs and the concentration of communication-power in
+the hands of a few big concerns is less objectionable than State Ownership
+and government propaganda; but certainly it is not something to which a
+Jeffersonian democrat could approve.</i></p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked blankly at Catherina and whispered, "Why, what he's
+reading is as much an attack on the West as it is on us."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him and whispered back, "Well, why not? This gathering is to
+discuss freedom of the press."</p>
+
+<p>He said blankly, "But as an agent of the West&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She frowned at him. "Mr. Dickson isn't an agent of the West. He's an
+American journalist."</p>
+
+<p>"Surely you can't believe he has no connections with the imperialist
+governments."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, he hasn't. What sort of meeting do you think this is? We're
+not interested in Western propaganda. We're a group of intellectuals
+searching for freedom of ideas."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was taken back once again.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov dismissed his cab in front of the Ministry and walked
+toward the gate. Down the street the same plainclothes man, who had been
+lounging there the last time he'd reported, once again took him in, then
+looked away. The two guards snapped to attention, and the security agent
+strode by them unnoticing.</p>
+
+<p>At the lieutenant's desk, before the offices of Kliment Blagonravov, he
+stopped and said, "Colonel Simonov. I have no appointment but I think the
+Minister will see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Comrade Colonel," the lieutenant said. He spoke into an inter-office
+communicator, then looked up. "Minister Blagonravov will be able to see
+you in a few minutes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov stared nervously and unseeingly out a window while he waited.
+Gorki Park lay across the way. It, like Moscow in general, had changed a
+good deal in Simonov's memory. Everything in Russia had changed a good
+deal, he realized. And was changing. And what was the end to be? Or was
+there ever an end? Of course not. There is no end, ever. Only new changes
+to come.</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant said, "The Minister is free now, Comrade Colonel."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
+heavy door.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
+It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"</p>
+
+<p>His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
+before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
+"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
+from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
+you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
+I'd think there was a woman."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked at him wanly. "That too, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"You are jesting!"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not really. I had hoped to become engaged&mdash;soon."</p>
+
+<p>"A party member? I never thought of you as the marrying type, Ilya."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said slowly, "Yes, a Party member. Catherina Panova, my assistant
+in the automobile agency in Prague."</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov scowled heavily at him, put forth his fat lips in a thoughtful
+pout. He came to his feet, approached a file cabinet, fishing from his
+pocket a key ring. He unlocked the cabinet, brought forth a sheaf of
+papers with which he returned to his desk. He fumbled though them for a
+moment, found the paper he wanted and read it. He scowled again and looked
+up at his agent.</p>
+
+<p>"Your first report," he said. "Catherina Panova. From what you say here, a
+dangerous reactionary. Certainly she has no place in Party ranks."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said, "Is that the complete file of my assignment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I've kept it here in my own office. I've wanted this to be
+ultra-undercover. No one except you and me. I had hopes of you working
+your way up into the enemy's organization, and I wanted no possible chance
+of you being betrayed. You don't seem to have been too successful."</p>
+
+<p>"I was as successful as it's possible to be."</p>
+
+<p>The security minister leaned forward. "Ah ha! I knew I could trust you to
+bring back results, Ilya. This will take Frol Zverev's pressure off me.
+Number One has been riding me hard." Blagonravov poured them both another
+drink. "You were able to insert yourself into their higher circles?"</p>
+
+<p>Simonov said, "Kliment, there are no higher circles."</p>
+
+<p>His chief glared at him. "Nonsense!" He tapped the file with a pudgy
+finger. "In your early reports you described several groups, small
+organizations, illegal meetings. There must be an upper organization, some
+movement supported from the West most likely."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov was shaking his head. "No. They're all spontaneous."</p>
+
+<p>His chief growled, "I tell you there are literally thousands of these
+little groups. That hardly sounds like a spontaneous phenomenon."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless, that is what my investigations have led me to believe."</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov glowered at him, uncertainly. Finally, he said, "Well,
+confound it, you've spent the better part of a year among them. What's it
+all about? What do they want?"</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov said flatly, "They want freedom, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"Freedom! What do you mean, freedom? The Soviet Complex is the most highly
+industrialized area of the world. Our people have the highest standard of
+living anywhere. Don't they understand? We've met all the promises we ever
+made. We've reached far and beyond the point ever dreamed of by Utopians.
+The people, all of the people, have it made as the Americans say."</p>
+
+<p>"Except for freedom," Simonov said doggedly. "These groups are springing
+up everywhere, spontaneously. Thus far, perhaps, our ministry has been
+able to suppress some of them. But the pace is accelerating. They aren't
+inter-organized now. But how soon they'll start to be, I don't know.
+Sooner or later, someone is going to come up with a unifying idea. A new
+socio-political system to advocate a way of guaranteeing the basic
+liberties. Then, of course, the fat will be in the fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Ilya! You've been working too hard. I've pushed you too much, relied on
+you too much. You need a good lengthy vacation."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shrugged. "Perhaps. But what I've just said is the truth."</p>
+
+<p>His chief snorted heavily. "You half sound as though you agree with them."</p>
+
+<p>"I do, Kliment."</p>
+
+<p>"I am in no mood for gags, as the Yankees say."</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov looked at him wearily. He said slowly, "You sent me to
+investigate an epidemic, a spreading disease. Very well, I report that
+it's highly contagious."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Blagonravov poured himself more vodka angrily. "Explain yourself. What's
+this all about?"</p>
+
+<p>His former best field man said, "Kliment&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I want no familiarities from you, colonel!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir." Ilya Simonov went on doggedly. "Man never achieves complete
+freedom. It's a goal never reached, but one continually striven for. The
+moment as small a group as two or three gather together, all of them must
+give up some of the individual's freedom. When man associates with
+millions of his fellow men, he gives up a good many freedoms for the sake
+of the community. But always he works to retain as much liberty as
+possible, and to gain more. It's the nature of our species, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"You sound as though you've become corrupted by Western ideas," the
+security head muttered dangerously.</p>
+
+<p>Simonov shook his head. "No. The same thing applies over there. Even in
+countries such as Sweden and Switzerland, where institutions are as free
+as anywhere in the world, the people are continually striving for more.
+Governments and socio-economic systems seem continually to whittle away at
+individual liberty. But always man fights back and tries to achieve new
+heights for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"In the name of developing our country, the Party all but eliminated
+freedom in the Soviet Complex, but now the goals have been reached and the
+people will no longer put up with us, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Us!</i>" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
+considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
+you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
+to escape over the border into the West."</p>
+
+<p>Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
+reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
+some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."</p>
+
+<p>The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
+in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
+fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
+either in prison or in their graves."</p>
+
+<p>With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
+model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
+virtues as guns go.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you mad!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
+feet and reached for them.</p>
+
+<p>With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
+beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
+heavy military revolver.</p>
+
+<p>And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
+silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.</p>
+
+<p>Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
+his heavy swivel chair.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
+see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
+dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
+and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
+pulverized.</p>
+
+<p>He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
+turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.</p>
+
+<p>He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
+under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
+bothered under any circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"But it was an appointment with Number One!"</p>
+
+<p>That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
+canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
+bother him under any circumstances for the next hour."</p>
+
+<p>He left the other and strode down the corridor, keeping himself from too
+obvious, a quickened pace.</p>
+
+<p>At the entrance to the Ministry, he shot his glance up and down the
+street. He was in the clutch now, and knew it. He had few illusions.</p>
+
+<p>Not a cab in sight. He began to cross the road toward the park. In a
+matter of moments there, he'd be lost in the trees and shrubbery. He had
+rather vague plans. Actually, he was playing things as they came. There
+was a close friend in whose apartment he could hide, a man who owed him
+his life. He could disguise himself. Possibly buy or borrow a car. If he
+could get back to Prague, he was safe. Perhaps he and Catherina could
+defect to the West.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody was screaming something from a window in the Ministry.</p>
+
+<p>Ilya Simonov quickened his pace. He was nearly across the street now. He
+thought, foolishly, <i>Whoever that is shouting is so excited he sounds more
+like a woman than a man.</i></p>
+
+<p>Another voice took up the shout. It was the plainclothes man. Feet began
+pounding.</p>
+
+<p>There were two more shouts. The guards. But he was across now. The shrubs
+were only a foot away.</p>
+
+<p>The shattering blackness hit him in the back of the head. It was over
+immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards, the plainclothes man and the two guards stood over him. Men
+began pouring from the Ministry in their direction.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Ilya Simonov was a meaningless, bloody heap on the edge of the
+park's grass.</p>
+
+<p>The guard who had shot said, "He killed the Minister. He must have been
+crazy to think he could get away with it. What did he want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll never know now," the plainclothesman grunted.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Freedom
+
+Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+Illustrator: Schoenherr
+
+Release Date: October 26, 2009 [EBook #30338]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREEDOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction February 1961.
+  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright
+  on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+                               FREEDOM
+
+
+                           by MACK REYNOLDS
+
+
+                      Illustrated by Schoenherr
+
+
+     _Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so
+      catching--like a plague--even the doctors get it._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov tooled his Zil aircushion convertible along the edge
+of Red Square, turned right immediately beyond St. Basil's Cathedral,
+crossed the Moscow River by the Moskvocetski Bridge and debouched into the
+heavy, and largely automated traffic of Pyarnikskaya. At Dobryninskaya
+Square he turned west to Gorki Park which he paralleled on Kaluga until he
+reached the old baroque palace which housed the Ministry.
+
+There were no flags, no signs, nothing to indicate the present nature of
+the aged Czarist building.
+
+He left the car at the curb, slamming its door behind him and walking
+briskly to the entrance. Hard, handsome in the Slavic tradition,
+dedicated, Ilya Simonov was young for his rank. A plainclothes man, idling
+a hundred feet down the street, eyed him briefly then turned his attention
+elsewhere. The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes
+straight ahead. Colonel Simonov was in mufti and didn't answer the salute.
+
+The inside of the old building was well known to him. He went along marble
+halls which contained antique statuary and other relics of the past which,
+for unknown reason, no one had ever bothered to remove. At the heavy door
+which entered upon the office of his destination he came to a halt and
+spoke briefly to the lieutenant at the desk there.
+
+"The Minister is expecting me," Simonov clipped.
+
+The lieutenant did the things receptionists do everywhere and looked up in
+a moment to say, "Go right in, Colonel Simonov."
+
+Minister Kliment Blagonravov looked up from his desk at Simonov's
+entrance. He was a heavy-set man, heavy of face and he still affected the
+shaven head, now rapidly disappearing among upper-echelons of the Party.
+His jacket had been thrown over the back of a chair and his collar
+loosened; even so there was a sheen of sweat on his face.
+
+He looked up at his most trusted field man, said in the way of greeting,
+"Ilya," and twisted in his swivel chair to a portable bar. He swung open
+the door of the small refrigerator and emerged with a bottle of
+Stolichnaya vodka. He plucked two three-ounce glasses from a shelf and
+pulled the bottle's cork with his teeth. "Sit down, sit down, Ilya," he
+grunted as he filled the glasses. "How was Magnitogorsk?"
+
+Ilya Simonov secured his glass before seating himself in one of the room's
+heavy leathern chairs. He sighed, relaxed, and said, "Terrible, I loath
+those ultra-industrialized cities. I wonder if the Americans do any better
+with Pittsburgh or the British with Birmingham."
+
+"I know what you mean," the security head rumbled. "How did you make out
+with you assignment, Ilya?"
+
+Colonel Simonov frowned down into the colorlessness of the vodka before
+dashing it back over his palate. "It's all in my report, Kliment." He was
+the only man in the organization who called Blagonravov by his first name.
+
+His chief grunted again and reached forward to refill the glass. "I'm sure
+it is. Do you know how many reports go across this desk daily? And did you
+know that Ilya Simonov is the most long-winded, as the Americans say, of
+my some two hundred first-line operatives?"
+
+The colonel shifted in his chair. "Sorry," he said. "I'll keep that in
+mind."
+
+His chief rumbled his sour version of a chuckle. "Nothing, nothing, Ilya.
+I was jesting. However, give me a brief of your mission."
+
+Ilya Simonov frowned again at his refilled vodka glass but didn't take it
+up for a moment. "A routine matter," he said. "A dozen or so engineers and
+technicians, two or three fairly high-ranking scientists, and three or
+four of the local intelligentsia had formed some sort of informal club.
+They were discussing national and international affairs."
+
+Kliment Blagonravov's thin eyebrows went up but he waited for the other to
+go on.
+
+Ilya said impatiently, "It was the ordinary. They featured complete
+freedom of opinion and expression in their weekly get-togethers. They
+began by criticizing without extremism, local affairs, matters concerned
+with their duties, that sort of thing. In the beginning, they even sent a
+few letters of protest to the local press, signing the name of the club.
+After their ideas went further out, they didn't dare do that, of course."
+
+He took up his second drink and belted it back, not wanting to give it
+time to lose its chill.
+
+His chief filled in. "And they delved further and further into matters
+that should be discussed only within the party--if even there--until they
+arrived at what point?"
+
+Colonel Simonov shrugged. "Until they finally got to the point of
+discussing how best to overthrow the Soviet State and what socio-economic
+system should follow it. The usual thing. I've run into possible two dozen
+such outfits in the past five years."
+
+His chief grunted and tossed back his own drink. "My dear Ilya," he
+rumbled sourly, "I've _run into_, as you say, more than two hundred."
+
+Simonov was taken back by the figure but he only looked at the other.
+
+Blagonravov said, "What did you do about it?"
+
+"Several of them were popular locally. In view of Comrade Zverev's recent
+pronouncements of increased freedom of press and speech, I thought it best
+not to make a public display. Instead, I took measures to charge
+individual members with inefficiency in their work, with corruption or
+graft, or with other crimes having nothing to do with the reality of the
+situation. Six or seven in all were imprisoned, others demoted. Ten or
+twelve I had switched to other cities, principally into more backward
+areas in the virgin lands."
+
+"And the ringleaders?" the security head asked.
+
+"There were two of them, one a research chemist of some prominence, the
+other a steel plane manager. They were both, ah, unfortunately killed in
+an automobile accident while under the influence of drink."
+
+"I see," Blagonravov nodded. "So actually the whole rat's nest was stamped
+out without attention being brought to it so far as the Magnitogorsk
+public is concerned." He nodded heavily again. "You can almost always be
+depended upon to do the right thing, Ilya. If you weren't so confoundedly
+good a field man, I'd make you my deputy."
+
+Which was exactly what Simonov would have hated, but he said nothing.
+
+"One thing," his chief said. "The origin of this, ah, _club_ which turned
+into a tiny underground all of its own. Did you detect the finger of the
+West, stirring up trouble?"
+
+"No." Simonov shook his head. "If such was the case, the agents involved
+were more clever than I'd ordinarily give either America or Common Europe
+credit for. I could be wrong, of course."
+
+"Perhaps," the police head growled. He eyed the bottle before him but made
+no motion toward it. He wiped the palm of his right hand back over his
+bald pate, in unconscious irritation. "But there is something at work that
+we are not getting at." Blagonravov seemed to change subjects. "You can
+speak Czech, so I understand."
+
+"That's right. My mother was from Bratislava. My father met her there
+during the Hitler war."
+
+"And you know Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"I've spent several vacations in the Tatras at such resorts as Tatranski
+Lomnica since the country's been made such a tourist center of the
+satellites." Ilya Simonov didn't understand this trend of the
+conversation.
+
+"You have some knowledge of automobiles, too?"
+
+Simonov shrugged. "I've driven all my life."
+
+His chief rumbled thoughtfully, "Time isn't of essence. You can take a
+quick course at the Moskvich plant. A week or two would give you all the
+background you need."
+
+Ilya laughed easily. "I seem to have missed something. Have my
+shortcomings caught up with me? Am I to be demoted to automobile
+mechanic?"
+
+Kliment Blagonravov became definite. "You are being given the most
+important assignment of your career, Ilya. This rot, this ever growing
+ferment against the Party, must be cut out, liquidated. It seems to fester
+worse among the middle echelons of ... what did that Yugoslavian Djilas
+call us?... the _New Class_. Why? That's what we must know."
+
+He sat farther back in his chair and his heavy lips made a _mout_. "Why,
+Ilya?" he repeated. "After more than half a century the Party has attained
+all its goals. Lenin's millennium is here; the end for which Stalin purged
+ten millions and more, is reached; the sacrifices demanded by Khrushchev
+in the Seven-Year Plans have finally paid off, as the Yankees say. Our
+gross national product, our per capita production, our standard of living,
+is the highest in the world. Sacrifices are no longer necessary."
+
+There had been an almost whining note in his voice. But now he broke it
+off. He poured them still another drink. "At any rate, Ilya, I was with
+Frol Zverev this morning. Number One is incensed. It seems that in the
+Azerbaijan Republic, for one example, that even the Komsomols were
+circulating among themselves various proscribed books and pamphlets.
+Comrade Zverev instructed me to concentrate on discovering the reason for
+this disease."
+
+Colonel Simonov scowled. "What's this got to do with Czechoslovakia--and
+automobiles?"
+
+The security head waggled a fat finger at him. "What we've been doing,
+thus far, is dashing forth upon hearing of a new conflagration and
+stamping it out. Obviously, that's no answer. We must find who is behind
+it. How it begins. Why it begins. That's your job?"
+
+"Why Czechoslovakia?"
+
+"You're unknown as a security agent there, for one thing. You will go to
+Prague and become manager of the Moskvich automobile distribution agency.
+No one, not even the Czech unit of our ministry will be aware of your
+identity. You will play it by ear, as the Americans say."
+
+"To whom do I report?"
+
+"Only to me, until the task is completed. When it is, you will return to
+Moscow and report fully." A grimace twisted Blagonravov's face. "If I am
+still here. Number One is truly incensed, Ilya."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There had been some more. Kliment Blagonravov had evidently chosen Prague,
+the capital of Czechoslovakia, as the seat of operations in a suspicion
+that the wave of unrest spreading insidiously throughout the Soviet
+Complex owed its origins to the West. Thus far, there had been no evidence
+of this but the suspicion refused to die. If not the West, then who? The
+Cold War was long over but the battle for men's minds continued even in
+peace.
+
+Ideally, Ilya Simonov was to infiltrate whatever Czech groups might be
+active in the illicit movement and then, if he discovered there was a
+higher organization, a center of the movement, he was to attempt to become
+a part of it. If possible he was to rise in the organisation to as high a
+point as he could.
+
+Blagonravov, Minister of the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_, the
+Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-Revolution and Sabotage,
+was of the opinion that if this virus of revolt was originating from the
+West, then it would be stronger in the satellite countries than in Russia
+itself. Simonov held no opinion as yet. He would wait and see. However,
+there was an uncomfortable feeling about the whole assignment. The group
+in Magnitogorsk, he was all but sure, had no connections with Western
+agents, nor anyone else, for that matter. Of course, it might have been an
+exception.
+
+He left the Ministry, his face thoughtful as he climbed into his waiting
+Zil. This assignment was going to be a lengthy one. He'd have to wind up
+various affairs here in Moscow, personal as well as business. He might be
+away for a year or more.
+
+There was a sheet of paper on the seat of his aircushion car. He frowned
+at it. It couldn't have been there before. He picked it up.
+
+It was a mimeographed throw-away.
+
+It was entitled, _FREEDOM_, and it began: _Comrades, more than a hundred
+years ago the founders of scientific socialism, Karl Marx and Frederick
+Engels, explained that the State was incompatible with liberty, that the
+State was an instrument of repression of one class by another. They
+explained that for true freedom ever to exist the State must wither away._
+
+_Under the leadership of Lenin, Stalin, Krushchev and now Zverev, the
+State has become ever stronger. Far from withering away, it continues to
+oppress us. Fellow Russians, it is time we take action! We must...._
+
+Colonel Simonov bounced from his car again, shot his eyes up and down the
+street. He barely refrained from drawing the 9 mm automatic which nestled
+under his left shoulder and which he knew how to use so well.
+
+He curtly beckoned to the plainclothes man, still idling against the
+building a hundred feet or so up the street. The other approached him,
+touched the brim of his hat in a half salute.
+
+Simonov snapped, "Do you know who I am?"
+
+"Yes, colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov thrust the leaflet forward. "How did this get into my car?"
+
+The other looked at it blankly. "I don't know, Colonel Simonov."
+
+"You've been here all this time?"
+
+"Why, yes colonel."
+
+"With my car in plain sight?"
+
+That didn't seem to call for an answer. The plainclothesman looked
+apprehensive but blank.
+
+Simonov turned on his heel and approached the two guards at the gate. They
+were not more than thirty feet from where he was parked. They came to the
+salute but he growled, "At ease. Look here, did anyone approach my vehicle
+while I was inside?"
+
+One of the soldiers said, "Sir, twenty or thirty people have passed since
+the Comrade colonel entered the Ministry."
+
+The other one said, "Yes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked from the guards to the plainclothes man and back, in
+frustration. Finally he spun on his heel again and re-entered the car. He
+slapped the elevation lever, twisted the wheel sharply, hit the jets pedal
+with his foot and shot into the traffic.
+
+The plainclothes man looked after him and muttered to the guards,
+"Blagonravov's hatchetman. He's killed more men than the plague. A bad one
+to have down on you."
+
+Simonov bowled down the Kaluga at excessive speed. "Driving like a young
+_stilyagi_," he growled in irritation at himself. But, confound it, how
+far had things gone when subversive leaflets were placed in cars parked in
+front of the ministry devoted to combating counter revolution.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He'd been away from Moscow for over a month and the amenities in the smog,
+smoke and coke fumes blanketing industrial complex of Magnitogorsk hadn't
+been particularly of the best. Ilya Simonov headed now for Gorki Street
+and the Baku Restaurant. He had an idea that it was going to be some time
+before the opportunity would be repeated for him to sit down to Zakouski,
+the salty, spicy Russian hors d'oeuvres, and to Siberian pilmeny and a
+bottle of Tsinandali.
+
+The restaurant, as usual, was packed. In irritation, Ilya Simonov stood
+for a while waiting for a table, then, taking the head waiter's advice,
+agreed to share one with a stranger.
+
+The stranger, a bearded little man, who was dwaddling over his Gurievskaya
+kasha dessert while reading _Izvestia_, glanced up at him, unseemingly,
+bobbed his head at Simonov's request to share his table, and returned to
+the newspaper.
+
+The harried waiter took his time in turning up with a menu. Ilya Simonov
+attempted to relax. He had no particular reason to be upset by the leaflet
+found in his car. Obviously, whoever had thrown it there was distributing
+haphazardly. The fact that it was mimeographed, rather than printed, was
+an indication of lack of resources, an amateur affair. But what in the
+world did these people want? What did they want?
+
+The Soviet State was turning out consumer's goods, homes, cars as no
+nation in the world. Vacations were lengthy, working hours short. A
+four-day week, even! What did they _want_? What motivates a man who is
+living on a scale unknown to a Czarist boyar to risk his position, even
+his life! in a stupidly impossible revolt against the country's
+government?
+
+The man across from him snorted in contempt.
+
+He looked over the top of his paper at Smirnov and said, "The election in
+Italy. Ridiculous!"
+
+Ilya Simonov brought his mind back to the present. "How did they turn out?
+I understand the depression is terrible there."
+
+"So I understand," the other said. "The vote turned out as was to be
+expected."
+
+Simonov's eyebrows went up. "The Party has been voted into power?"
+
+"Ha!" the other snorted. "The vote for the Party has fallen off by more
+than a third."
+
+The security colonel scowled at him. "That doesn't sound reasonable, if
+the economic situation is as bad as has been reported."
+
+His table mate put down the paper. "Why not? Has there ever been a country
+where the Party was _voted_ into power? Anywhere--at any time during the
+more than half a century since the Bolsheviks first took over here in
+Russia?"
+
+Simonov looked at him.
+
+The other was talking out opinions he'd evidently formed while reading the
+_Izvestia_ account of the Italian elections, not paying particular
+attention to the stranger across from him.
+
+He said, his voice irritated, "Nor will there ever be. They know better.
+In the early days of the revolution the workers might have had illusions
+about the Party and it goals. Now they've lost them. Everywhere, they've
+lost them."
+
+Ilya Simonov said tightly, "How do you mean?"
+
+"I mean the Party has been rejected. With the exception of China and
+Yugoslavia, both of whom have their own varieties, the only countries that
+have adopted our system have done it under pressure from outside--not by
+their own efforts. Not by the will of the majority."
+
+Colonel Simonov said flatly, "You seem to think that Marxism will never
+dominate the world."
+
+"Marxism!" the other snorted. "If Marx were alive in Russia today, Frol
+Zverev would have him in a Siberian labor camp within twenty-four hours."
+
+Ilya Simonov brought forth his wallet and opened it to his police
+credentials. He said coldly, "Let me see your identification papers. You
+are under arrest."
+
+The other stared at him for a moment, then snorted his contempt. He
+brought forth his own wallet and handed it across the table.
+
+Simonov flicked it open, his face hard. He looked at the man. "Konstantin
+Kasatkin."
+
+"Candidate member of the Academy of Sciences," the other snapped. "And
+bearer of the Hero of the Soviet Union award."
+
+Simonov flung the wallet back to him in anger. "And as such, practically
+immune."
+
+The other grinned nastily at him. "Scientists, my police friend, cannot be
+bothered with politics. Where would the Soviet Complex be if you took to
+throwing biologists such as myself into prison for making unguarded
+statements in an absent-minded moment?"
+
+Simonov slapped a palm down on the table. "Confound it, Comrade," he
+snapped, "how is the Party to maintain discipline in the country if high
+ranking persons such as yourself speak open subversion to strangers."
+
+The other sported his contempt. "Perhaps there's too much discipline in
+Russia, Comrade policeman."
+
+"Rather, far from enough," Simonov snapped back.
+
+The waiter, at last, approached and extended a menu to the security
+officer. But Ilya Simonov had come to his feet. "Never mind," he clipped
+in disgust. "There is an air of degenerate decay about here."
+
+The waiter stared at him. The biologist snorted and returned to his paper.
+Simonov turned and stormed out. He could find something to eat and drink
+in his own apartment.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The old, old town of Prague, the _Golden City of a Hundred Spires_ was as
+always the beautifully stolid medieval metropolis which even a quarter of
+a century and more of Party rule could not change. The Old Town, nestled
+in a bend of the Vltava River, as no other city in Europe, breathed its
+centuries, its air of yesteryear.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov, in spite of his profession, was not immune to
+beauty. He deliberately failed to notify his new office of his arrival,
+flew in on a Ceskoslovenske Aerolinie Tupolev rocket liner and spent his
+first night at the Alcron Hotel just off Wenceslas Square. He knew that as
+the new manager of the local Moskvich distribution agency he'd have
+fairly elaborate quarters, probably in a good section of town, but this
+first night he wanted to himself.
+
+He spent it wandering quietly in the old quarter, dropping in to the
+age-old beer halls for a half liter of Pilsen Urquell here, a foaming
+stein of Smichov Lager there. Czech beer, he was reminded all over again,
+is the best in the world. No argument, no debate, the best in the world.
+
+He ate in the endless automated cafeterias that line the Viclavske Namesi
+the entertainment center of Prague. Ate an open sandwich here, some
+crabmeat salad there, a sausage and another glass of Pilsen somewhere else
+again. He was getting the feel of the town and of its people. Of recent
+years, some of the tension had gone out of the atmosphere in Moscow and
+the other Soviet centers; with the coming of economic prosperity there had
+also come a relaxation. The _fear_, so heavy in the Stalin era, had fallen
+off in that of Khrushchev and still more so in the present reign of Frol
+Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
+whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
+the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
+once dropped.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
+even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
+up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
+publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
+cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
+shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
+Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!
+
+Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
+issue.
+
+Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
+in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
+subscribe."
+
+A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
+spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
+place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
+hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
+another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
+to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
+your saucer and you paid up.
+
+Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
+brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.
+
+The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
+by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
+years ago, they have on TV today."
+
+"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
+his voice expressionless.
+
+The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
+and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
+brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
+these days."
+
+It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
+he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
+was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
+extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
+political subjects.
+
+His cross-the-table neighbor shook his head, obviously pleased. "If you
+think Prague is good, you ought to see Warsaw. It's as free as Paris! I
+saw a Tri-D cinema up there about two months ago. You know what it was
+about? The purges in Moscow back in the 1930s."
+
+"A rather unique subject," Simonov said.
+
+"Um-m-m, made a very strong case for Bukharin, in particular."
+
+Simonov said, very slowly, "I don't understand. You mean this ... this
+film supported the, ah, Old Bolsheviks?"
+
+"Of course. Why not? Everybody knows they weren't guilty." The Czech
+snorted deprecation. "At least not guilty of what they were charged with.
+They were in Stalin's way and he liquidated them." The Czech thought about
+it for a while. "I wonder if he was already insane, that far back."
+
+Had he taken up his mug of beer and dashed it into Simonov's face, he
+couldn't have surprised the Russian more.
+
+Ilya Simonov had to take control of himself. His first instinct was to
+show his credentials, arrest the man and have him hauled up before the
+local agency of Simonov's ministry.
+
+But obviously that was out of the question. He was in Czechoslovakia and,
+although Moscow still dominated the Soviet Complex, there was local
+autonomy and the Czech police just didn't enjoy their affairs being
+meddled with unless in extreme urgency.
+
+Besides, this man was obviously only one among many. A stranger in a beer
+hall. Ilya Simonov suspected that if he continued his wanderings about the
+town, he'd meet in the process of only one evening a score of persons who
+would talk the same way.
+
+Besides, still again, he was here in Prague incognito, his job to trace
+the sources of this dry rot, not to run down individual Czechs.
+
+But the cinema, and TV! Surely anti-Party sentiment hadn't been allowed to
+go this far!
+
+He got up from the table shakily, paid up for his beer and forced himself
+to nod good-bye in friendly fashion to the subversive Czech he'd been
+talking to.
+
+In the morning he strolled over to the offices of the Moskvich Agency
+which was located only a few blocks from his hotel on Celetna Hybernski.
+The Russian car agency, he knew, was having a fairly hard go of it in
+Prague and elsewhere in Czechoslovakia. The Czechs, long before the Party
+took over in 1948, had been a highly industrialized, modern nation. They
+consequently had their own automobile works, such as Skoda, and their
+models were locally more popular than the Russian Moskvich, Zim and
+Pobeda.
+
+Theoretically, the reason Ilya Simonov was the newly appointed agency head
+was to push Moskvich sales among the Czechs. He thought, half humorously,
+half sourly, to himself, even under the Party we have competition and
+pressure for higher sales. What was it that some American economist had
+called them? a system of State-Capitalism.
+
+At the Moskvich offices he found himself in command of a staff that
+consisted of three fellow Russians, and a dozen or so Czech assistants.
+His immediate subordinate was a Catherina Panova, whose dossier revealed
+her to be a party member, though evidently not a particularly active one,
+at least not since she'd been assigned here in Prague.
+
+She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University of
+Moscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of six
+months or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that the
+style-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besides
+that, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girls
+Ilya Simonov had ever seen.
+
+His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.
+Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom were
+of the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking at
+this new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go by
+without more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.
+
+He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actual
+identity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checked
+himself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of complete
+secrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquainted
+with his presence.
+
+He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the local
+methods of going about their business affairs and the problems they were
+running into.
+
+She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, and
+said, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a whole
+set of new methods."
+
+It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,
+"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your present
+policies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a few
+months, we'll come up with some ideas."
+
+She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staff
+had been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He already
+felt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return to
+their homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia that
+appealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.
+
+Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possible
+changes myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we can
+discuss them informally."
+
+Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous with
+him. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.
+She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Of
+course, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't even
+revealed to her his own membership.
+
+As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of the
+new Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,
+drink, dancing--and each other.
+
+They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungarian
+dishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. It
+occurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derived
+from the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman in
+the establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was a
+certain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half the
+other males present were following you in envy.
+
+One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, the
+Hungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,
+distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, required
+learning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had the
+knack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviously
+necessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.
+
+It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, which
+even with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in the
+Soviet Complex.
+
+They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at the
+Prazske Variete.
+
+They took in the show at the U Sv Tomise, the age old tavern which had
+been making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. And
+here Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tables
+taught him the correct pronunciation of _Na zdravi!_ the Czech toast. It
+seemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the new
+salutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.
+
+Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,
+Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoes
+involved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow or
+Leningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was even
+a caricature of a security police minister who could only have been his
+superior Kliment Blagonravov.
+
+They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The Good
+Soldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classic
+were framed on the walls.
+
+They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonov
+looked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."
+
+"Fine," she laughed.
+
+"In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I mean
+tonight."
+
+She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving our
+operations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightly
+practice of carrying on like we did this evening."
+
+He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.
+
+She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."
+
+He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that he
+hardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. For
+that matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritated
+him.
+
+He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"
+
+Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to be
+an automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a security
+police agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you mean
+another man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."
+
+"A meeting! It sounds dry as--"
+
+She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.
+We're to be addressed by an American journalist."
+
+Suddenly he was all but sober.
+
+He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise had
+precipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"
+
+"Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," she
+said. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open things
+are here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."
+
+"I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"
+
+She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather to
+hear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,
+of course, _theoretically_ it's illegal, but for that matter even the head
+of the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advanced
+intellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know a
+dozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."
+
+"But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is he
+accredited?"
+
+"No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across some
+Prague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of the
+press."
+
+"I see," Simonov said.
+
+She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, why
+don't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."
+
+"It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sober
+now.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. He
+mentioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czech
+capital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. He
+reported--although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have the
+information--hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the Old
+Bolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, with
+its caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then after
+hesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidently
+belonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to a
+talk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspices
+of the Czech Party nor the government.
+
+At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She ticked
+it off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and borovika
+gin--we should have know better."
+
+He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should have
+stuck to vodka."
+
+"Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,
+rather than a carouse."
+
+Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, Catherina
+Panova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, and
+still look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined with
+improperly tanned suede.
+
+He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it worked
+smoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czech
+employees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of his
+evening on the town had somehow spread, and the fact that he was prone to
+a good time had relieved their fears of a martinet sent down from the
+central offices. They were beginning to relax in his presence.
+
+In fact, they relaxed to the point where one of the girls didn't even
+bother to hide the book she was reading during a period where there was a
+lull in activity. It was Pasternak's "Doctor Zhivago."
+
+He frowned remembering vaguely the controversy over the book a couple of
+decades earlier. Ilya Simonov said, "Pasternak. Do they print his works
+here in Czechoslovakia?"
+
+The girl shrugged and looked at the back of the cover. "German publisher,"
+she said idly. "Printed in Frankfurt."
+
+He kept his voice from registering either surprise or disapproval. "You
+mean such books are imported? By whom?"
+
+"Oh, not imported by an official agency, but we Czechs are doing a good
+deal more travel than we used to. Business trips, tourist trips,
+vacations. And, of course, we bring back books you can't get here." She
+shrugged again. "Very common."
+
+Simonov said blankly. "But the customs. The border police--"
+
+She smiled in a manner that suggested he lacked sophistication. "They
+never bother any more. They're human, too."
+
+Ilya Simonov wandered off. He was astonished at the extent to which
+controls were slipping in a satellite country. There seemed practically no
+discipline, in the old sense, at all. He began to see one reason why his
+superior had sent him here to Prague. For years, most of his work had been
+either in Moscow or in the newly opened industrial areas in Siberia. He
+had lost touch with developments in this part of the Soviet Complex.
+
+It came to him that this sort of thing could work like a geometric
+progression. Give a man a bit of rope one day, and he expects, and takes,
+twice as much the next, and twice that the next. And as with individuals,
+so with whole populations.
+
+This was going to have to be stopped soon, or Party control would
+disappear. Ilya Simonov felt an edge of uncertainty. Nikita Khrushchev
+should never have made those first motions of liberalization following
+Stalin's death. Not if they eventually culminated in this sort of thing.
+
+He and Catherina drove to her meeting place that evening after dinner.
+
+She explained as they went that the group was quite informal, usually
+meeting at the homes of group members who had fairly large places in the
+country. She didn't seem to know how it had originally begun. The meetings
+had been going on for a year of more before she arrived in Prague. A Czech
+friend had taken her along one night, and she'd been attending ever since.
+There were other, similar groups, in town.
+
+"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.
+
+She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the
+Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them
+loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised
+immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I
+wonder if he was insane from the first."
+
+He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.
+
+"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."
+
+This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run
+into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now,
+"I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"
+
+"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."
+
+"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on
+vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I
+mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in
+Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular
+purpose of the organization."
+
+She turned the car left on Budenska and sped up into the Holesovice
+section of town.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The nonchalance of it all was what stopped Ilya Simonov. Here was a Party
+member calmly discussing whether or not the greatest Russian of them all,
+after Lenin, had been mad. The implications were, of course, that many of
+the purges, certainly the latter ones, were the result of the whims of a
+mental case, that the Soviet Complex had for long years been ruled by a
+man as unbalanced as Czar Peter the Great.
+
+They pulled up before a rather large house that would have been called a
+dacha back in Moscow. Evidently, Ilya Simonov decided, whoever was
+sponsoring this night's get together, was a man of prominence. He grimaced
+inwardly. A lot of high placed heads were going to roll before he was
+through.
+
+It turned out that the host was Leos Dvorak, the internationally famed
+cinema director and quite an idol of Ilya Simonov in his earlier days when
+he'd found more time for entertainment. It was a shock to meet the man
+under these circumstances.
+
+Catherina Panova was obviously quite popular among this gathering. Their
+host gave her an affectionate squeeze in way of greeting, then shook hands
+with Simonov when Catherina introduced him.
+
+"Newly from Moscow, eh?" the film director said, squinting at the security
+agent. He had a sharp glance, almost, it seemed to Simonov, as though he
+detected the real nature of the newcomer. "It's been several years since
+I've been to Moscow. Are things loosening up there?"
+
+"Loosening up?" Simonov said.
+
+Leos Dvorak laughed and said to Catherina, "Probably not. I've always been
+of the opinion that the Party's influence would shrivel away first at its
+extremities. Membership would fall off abroad, in the neutral countries
+and in Common Europe and the Americas. Then in the so-called satellite
+countries. Last of all in Russia herself. But, very last, Moscow--the
+dullest, stodgiest, most backward intellectually, capital city in the
+world." The director laughed again and turned away to greet a new guest.
+
+This was open treason. Ilya Simonov had been lucky. Within the first few
+days of being in the Czech capital he'd contacted one of the groups which
+he'd been sent to unmask.
+
+Now he said mildly to Catherina Panova, "He seems rather outspoken."
+
+She chuckled. "Leos is quite strongly opinionated. His theory is that the
+more successful the Party is in attaining the goals it set half a century
+ago, the less necessary it becomes. He's of the opinion that it will
+eventually atrophy, shrivel away to the point that all that will be needed
+will be the slightest of pushes to end its domination."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "And the rest of the group here, do they agree?"
+
+Catherina shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Some of them are of the opinion
+that it will take another blood bath. That the party will attempt to hang
+onto its power and will have to be destroyed."
+
+Simonov said evenly, "And you? What do you think?"
+
+She frowned, prettily. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'm still in the process
+of forming an opinion."
+
+Their host was calling them together and leading the way to the garden
+where chairs had been set up. There seemed to be about twenty-five persons
+present in all. Ilya Simonov had been introduced to no more than half of
+them. His memory was good and already he was composing a report to Kliment
+Blagonravov, listing those names he recalled. Some were Czechs, some
+citizens of other satellite countries, several, including Catherina, were
+actually Russians.
+
+The American, a newspaperman named Dickson, had an open-faced freshness,
+hardly plausible in an agent from the West trying to subvert Party
+leadership. Ilya Simonov couldn't quite figure him out.
+
+Dickson was introduced by Leos Dvorak who informed his guests that the
+American had been reluctant but had finally agreed to give them his
+opinion on the press on both sides of what had once been called the Iron
+Curtain.
+
+Dickson grinned boyishly and said, "I'm not a public speaker, and, for
+that matter, I haven't had time to put together a talk for you. I think
+what I'll do is read a little clipping I've got here--sort of a text--and
+then, well, throw the meeting open to questions. I'll try to answer
+anything you have to ask."
+
+He brought forth a piece of paper. "This is from the British writer,
+Huxley. I think it's pretty good." He cleared his voice and began to read.
+
+_Mass communication ... is simply a force and like any other force, it can
+be used either well or ill. Used one way, the press, the radio and the
+cinema are indispensible to the survival of democracy. Used in another
+way, they are among the most powerful weapons in the dictator's armory. In
+the field of mass communications as in almost every other field of
+enterprise, technological progress has hurt the Little Man and helped the
+Big Man. As lately as fifty years ago, every democratic country could
+boast of a great number of small journals and local newspapers. Thousands
+of country editors expressed thousands of independent opinions. Somewhere
+or other almost anybody could get almost anything printed. Today the press
+is still legally free; but most of the little papers have disappeared. The
+cost of wood pulp, of modern printing machinery and of syndicated news is
+too high for the Little Man. In the totalitarian East there is political
+censorship, and the media of mass communications are controlled by the
+State. In the democratic West there is economic censorship and the media
+of mass communication are controlled by members of the Power Elite.
+Censorship by rising costs and the concentration of communication-power in
+the hands of a few big concerns is less objectionable than State Ownership
+and government propaganda; but certainly it is not something to which a
+Jeffersonian democrat could approve._
+
+Ilya Simonov looked blankly at Catherina and whispered, "Why, what he's
+reading is as much an attack on the West as it is on us."
+
+She looked at him and whispered back, "Well, why not? This gathering is to
+discuss freedom of the press."
+
+He said blankly, "But as an agent of the West--"
+
+She frowned at him. "Mr. Dickson isn't an agent of the West. He's an
+American journalist."
+
+"Surely you can't believe he has no connections with the imperialist
+governments."
+
+"Certainly, he hasn't. What sort of meeting do you think this is? We're
+not interested in Western propaganda. We're a group of intellectuals
+searching for freedom of ideas."
+
+Ilya Simonov was taken back once again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov dismissed his cab in front of the Ministry and walked
+toward the gate. Down the street the same plainclothes man, who had been
+lounging there the last time he'd reported, once again took him in, then
+looked away. The two guards snapped to attention, and the security agent
+strode by them unnoticing.
+
+At the lieutenant's desk, before the offices of Kliment Blagonravov, he
+stopped and said, "Colonel Simonov. I have no appointment but I think the
+Minister will see me."
+
+"Yes, Comrade Colonel," the lieutenant said. He spoke into an inter-office
+communicator, then looked up. "Minister Blagonravov will be able to see
+you in a few minutes, sir."
+
+Ilya Simonov stared nervously and unseeingly out a window while he waited.
+Gorki Park lay across the way. It, like Moscow in general, had changed a
+good deal in Simonov's memory. Everything in Russia had changed a good
+deal, he realized. And was changing. And what was the end to be? Or was
+there ever an end? Of course not. There is no end, ever. Only new changes
+to come.
+
+The lieutenant said, "The Minister is free now, Comrade Colonel."
+
+Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
+heavy door.
+
+Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
+It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"
+
+His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
+before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.
+
+Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
+"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
+from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
+you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
+I'd think there was a woman."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wanly. "That too, Kliment."
+
+"You are jesting!"
+
+"No. Not really. I had hoped to become engaged--soon."
+
+"A party member? I never thought of you as the marrying type, Ilya."
+
+Simonov said slowly, "Yes, a Party member. Catherina Panova, my assistant
+in the automobile agency in Prague."
+
+Blagonravov scowled heavily at him, put forth his fat lips in a thoughtful
+pout. He came to his feet, approached a file cabinet, fishing from his
+pocket a key ring. He unlocked the cabinet, brought forth a sheaf of
+papers with which he returned to his desk. He fumbled though them for a
+moment, found the paper he wanted and read it. He scowled again and looked
+up at his agent.
+
+"Your first report," he said. "Catherina Panova. From what you say here, a
+dangerous reactionary. Certainly she has no place in Party ranks."
+
+Ilya Simonov said, "Is that the complete file of my assignment?"
+
+"Yes. I've kept it here in my own office. I've wanted this to be
+ultra-undercover. No one except you and me. I had hopes of you working
+your way up into the enemy's organization, and I wanted no possible chance
+of you being betrayed. You don't seem to have been too successful."
+
+"I was as successful as it's possible to be."
+
+The security minister leaned forward. "Ah ha! I knew I could trust you to
+bring back results, Ilya. This will take Frol Zverev's pressure off me.
+Number One has been riding me hard." Blagonravov poured them both another
+drink. "You were able to insert yourself into their higher circles?"
+
+Simonov said, "Kliment, there are no higher circles."
+
+His chief glared at him. "Nonsense!" He tapped the file with a pudgy
+finger. "In your early reports you described several groups, small
+organizations, illegal meetings. There must be an upper organization, some
+movement supported from the West most likely."
+
+Ilya Simonov was shaking his head. "No. They're all spontaneous."
+
+His chief growled, "I tell you there are literally thousands of these
+little groups. That hardly sounds like a spontaneous phenomenon."
+
+"Nevertheless, that is what my investigations have led me to believe."
+
+Blagonravov glowered at him, uncertainly. Finally, he said, "Well,
+confound it, you've spent the better part of a year among them. What's it
+all about? What do they want?"
+
+Ilya Simonov said flatly, "They want freedom, Kliment."
+
+"Freedom! What do you mean, freedom? The Soviet Complex is the most highly
+industrialized area of the world. Our people have the highest standard of
+living anywhere. Don't they understand? We've met all the promises we ever
+made. We've reached far and beyond the point ever dreamed of by Utopians.
+The people, all of the people, have it made as the Americans say."
+
+"Except for freedom," Simonov said doggedly. "These groups are springing
+up everywhere, spontaneously. Thus far, perhaps, our ministry has been
+able to suppress some of them. But the pace is accelerating. They aren't
+inter-organized now. But how soon they'll start to be, I don't know.
+Sooner or later, someone is going to come up with a unifying idea. A new
+socio-political system to advocate a way of guaranteeing the basic
+liberties. Then, of course, the fat will be in the fire."
+
+"Ilya! You've been working too hard. I've pushed you too much, relied on
+you too much. You need a good lengthy vacation."
+
+Simonov shrugged. "Perhaps. But what I've just said is the truth."
+
+His chief snorted heavily. "You half sound as though you agree with them."
+
+"I do, Kliment."
+
+"I am in no mood for gags, as the Yankees say."
+
+Ilya Simonov looked at him wearily. He said slowly, "You sent me to
+investigate an epidemic, a spreading disease. Very well, I report that
+it's highly contagious."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Blagonravov poured himself more vodka angrily. "Explain yourself. What's
+this all about?"
+
+His former best field man said, "Kliment--"
+
+"I want no familiarities from you, colonel!"
+
+"Yes, sir." Ilya Simonov went on doggedly. "Man never achieves complete
+freedom. It's a goal never reached, but one continually striven for. The
+moment as small a group as two or three gather together, all of them must
+give up some of the individual's freedom. When man associates with
+millions of his fellow men, he gives up a good many freedoms for the sake
+of the community. But always he works to retain as much liberty as
+possible, and to gain more. It's the nature of our species, I suppose."
+
+"You sound as though you've become corrupted by Western ideas," the
+security head muttered dangerously.
+
+Simonov shook his head. "No. The same thing applies over there. Even in
+countries such as Sweden and Switzerland, where institutions are as free
+as anywhere in the world, the people are continually striving for more.
+Governments and socio-economic systems seem continually to whittle away at
+individual liberty. But always man fights back and tries to achieve new
+heights for himself.
+
+"In the name of developing our country, the Party all but eliminated
+freedom in the Soviet Complex, but now the goals have been reached and the
+people will no longer put up with us, sir."
+
+"_Us!_" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
+considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
+you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
+to escape over the border into the West."
+
+Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
+reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
+some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."
+
+The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
+in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
+fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
+either in prison or in their graves."
+
+With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
+model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
+virtues as guns go.
+
+"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.
+
+"Are you mad!"
+
+"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
+feet and reached for them.
+
+With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
+beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
+heavy military revolver.
+
+And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
+silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.
+
+Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
+his heavy swivel chair.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
+see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
+dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
+and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
+pulverized.
+
+He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
+turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.
+
+He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
+under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."
+
+The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
+bothered under any circumstances."
+
+"But it was an appointment with Number One!"
+
+That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
+canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
+bother him under any circumstances for the next hour."
+
+He left the other and strode down the corridor, keeping himself from too
+obvious, a quickened pace.
+
+At the entrance to the Ministry, he shot his glance up and down the
+street. He was in the clutch now, and knew it. He had few illusions.
+
+Not a cab in sight. He began to cross the road toward the park. In a
+matter of moments there, he'd be lost in the trees and shrubbery. He had
+rather vague plans. Actually, he was playing things as they came. There
+was a close friend in whose apartment he could hide, a man who owed him
+his life. He could disguise himself. Possibly buy or borrow a car. If he
+could get back to Prague, he was safe. Perhaps he and Catherina could
+defect to the West.
+
+Somebody was screaming something from a window in the Ministry.
+
+Ilya Simonov quickened his pace. He was nearly across the street now. He
+thought, foolishly, _Whoever that is shouting is so excited he sounds more
+like a woman than a man._
+
+Another voice took up the shout. It was the plainclothes man. Feet began
+pounding.
+
+There were two more shouts. The guards. But he was across now. The shrubs
+were only a foot away.
+
+The shattering blackness hit him in the back of the head. It was over
+immediately.
+
+Afterwards, the plainclothes man and the two guards stood over him. Men
+began pouring from the Ministry in their direction.
+
+Colonel Ilya Simonov was a meaningless, bloody heap on the edge of the
+park's grass.
+
+The guard who had shot said, "He killed the Minister. He must have been
+crazy to think he could get away with it. What did he want?"
+
+"Well, we'll never know now," the plainclothesman grunted.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Freedom, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
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