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diff --git a/30338-h/30338-h.htm b/30338-h/30338-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..732fd34 --- /dev/null +++ b/30338-h/30338-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1329 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Freedom, by Mack Reynolds + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size:smaller;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<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 & Fiction February 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="347" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h1>FREEDOM</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>by MACK REYNOLDS</h2> +<p> </p> +<h3>Illustrated by Schoenherr</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Freedom is a very dangerous thing indeed. It is so +catching—like a plague—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—if even there—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—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—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—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 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.</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 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 <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—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 +Prazské Varieté.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Na zdraví!</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—"</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—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.</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—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—"</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 Budenská and sped up into the Holesovice +section of town.</p> + +<p> </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—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—sort of a text—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—"</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—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—"</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> diff --git a/30338-h/images/image_001.jpg b/30338-h/images/image_001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..39e7520 --- /dev/null +++ b/30338-h/images/image_001.jpg diff --git a/30338-h/images/image_002.jpg b/30338-h/images/image_002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfc4688 --- /dev/null +++ b/30338-h/images/image_002.jpg diff --git a/30338-h/images/image_003.jpg b/30338-h/images/image_003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..34f524e --- /dev/null +++ b/30338-h/images/image_003.jpg diff --git a/30338-h/images/image_c.jpg b/30338-h/images/image_c.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd2c977 --- /dev/null +++ b/30338-h/images/image_c.jpg |
