[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
daughter of a member of the Politburo. "Yes, the Party found it
necessary to send Pavel here for a few years. The provincial people
are so inefficient. I suppose we simply must make the sacrifice."
"I wish you would not mock Marina," he said. "And you are
wrong. This has nothing to do with a return to Moscow. Resides,
when we do go back, I will take you with me. All Russians want to
live in Moscow."
"I do not want to go. I want to stay here, with you. Your wife
is not so careful here. In Moscow she would be concerned, lest her
friends learn her husband has a mistress."
That was true enough, but it hardly mattered. "None of this is
important." he said. "Not now. Things will change soon. Sooner
than you know. Great changes, for all of us."
She frowned. "You are serious."
"I have never been more serious."
"Changes for the better?"
"I do not know." He stood and took both her hands in his.
"But I promise you there will be changes beyond our power to
predict, as profound as the Revolution."
Pavel Bondarev studied the papers he had been given, but from
time to time he looked past them at the man who had brought
them. Dmitii Parfenovich Grushin, a Lieutenant Colonel in the KGB
despite his seeming youth. Grushin wore a suit of soft wool that fit
perfectly, obviously made in Paris or London. He was of average
height, and slender, but his grip had been very strong, and he
walked with an athletic spring to his step.
The papers told him what General Narovchatov had already
said. "I see," Bondarev said. "I am to go to Baikonur."
"Yes, Comrade Academician." Grushin spoke respectfully. It
was difficult to know what the man was thinking. He seemed
perfectly in control of his face and his voice.
He brought a letter from General Narovchatov, inviting Marina
and the children to Moscow, and enclosing the necessary travel
permits. Marina would be pleased. "There is much unsaid here,"
Bondarev said.
"Yes. I can explain," Grushin said.
"Please."
"General Narovchatov has become First Secretary of the
Party." Grushin said carefully. He paused long enough to allow the
full weight of that to wash across Bondarev. "This will be
announced within the week. The Politburo finds this alien ship a
matter of some concern. Many of the marshals of the Soviet Union
do not believe in aliens."
"Then they think-"
"That this is a CIA trick," Grushin said. "It cannot be."
"I believe that. So does Chairman Petrovslciy."
"And Comrade Trusov?"
Grushin shrugged. "You will understand that I do not often
see the Chairman of the KGB however, I am informed that the vote
of the Defense Council was unanimous, that a civilian scientist
should command the preparations for receiving the aliens. You,
Comrade."
"So I was told. I confess I am not especially qualified."
"Who is? I am trained as a diplomat. Yet what training is there,
to meet with aliens from another star? But we must do what we
must do."
"Then you have been assigned as my deputy?" That would be
common enough practice, to have a KGB officer as chief of staff to
a project of this importance. Certainly the KGB would insist on
having its agents high within the control organization.
"No, another will do that," Grushin said. "My orders are to
proceed to Kosmograd."
"Ah. You are a qualified astronaut?"
"No, but I have been a pilot." Grushin's smile was thin.
"Comrade Academician, I have been ordered by your father-in-law
to trust you, to tell you everything I can. This is unusual. Stranger
yet, Comrade Trusov himself instructed me to do the same."
Strange indeed. So. The Politburo did take this alien craft
seriously. Very seriously. And General Nikolai Narovchatov had said,
"You will trust the man sent by KGB. As much as you trust any
man from KGB." What that could mean was not obvious.
"So," Bondarev said. "What is there that I must know?"
"The military," Grushin said. "Not all will cooperate, and not all
will be under your command. You will need great skills at Baikonur
to learn which marshals trust you and which do not. I need not tell
you that this will not be easy."
"No." It was safe enough to say that much. Not more.
"It is also vital that the Americans do not learn the extent of
our mobilization."
"I see." I see a great deal. Some of the marshals are out of
control. They mobilize their forces regardless of the wishes of the
Kremlin. The Americans can never be allowed to know this! "What
else must I know?"
"The crew aboard Kosmograd," Grushin said. "Who is there
now, and whom we shall invite."
"Invite-"
"Americans. They have already requested that we allow their
people aboard Kosmograd when the alien ship arrives. The Politburo
wishes your advice within three days." He paused. "I think, though,
that they will invite the Americans no matter what you say."
"Ah. And if the Americans wish this, other nations will also." He
shrugged. "I do not know how many Kosmograd can
accommodate."
"Nor I, but I will tell you when I arrive there. As I will advise
you of the personnel aboard. Of course you will also receive reports
from Commander Rogachev."
"A good man, Rogachev," Bondarev said.
Grushin's smile was crafty, like a peasant's, although there
was little of the peasant about the KGB man. "Certainly he has a
legend about him. But he is not everywhere regarded as you regard
him."
"Why?"
"He is a troublemaker when he feels his mission is in danger. A
fanatic about carrying out orders. Make no mistake, technically he is
the best commander we have for Kosmograd."
"But you doubt-doubt what? Surely not his loyalty?"
"Not his loyalty to the Soviet Union."
"Ah." There had been an edge to Grushin's voice. Rogachev
had not always shown proper deference to the Party. In what way
is he a trouble-maker?"
Grushin shrugged. "Minor ways. An example. He has aboard
Kosmograd his old sergeant, the maintenance crew chief of his
helicopter during the Ethiopian conflict. This man lost both legs in
the war. When it came time for this sergeant to be rotated back to
Earth, Rogachev found excuses to keep him. He said that no better
man was available, that it was vital to Kosmograd that this man
remain."
"Was he right?'
Grushin shrugged. "Again, that is something I will know when I
arrive there. Understand, Comrade Academician. I am to be only a
Deputy Commander of Kosmograd when I board. Thtsikova will be
First Deputy. But I will report directly to you. If there is need, you
may remove Rogachev from command."
Bondarev nodded comprehendingly. Inside he was frightened.
I command this space station, but there are many technical
matters. I will not know which are important and which are not. I
require advice-but whose advice can I trust? He smiled thinly. That
would be the dilemma faced by Chairman Petrovskiy and First
Secretary Narovchatov. It is why I have been given this task.
It will be a great opportunity, though. At last, Pavel Bondarev
thought, at last I can tell them where to aim the space telescope.
And be able to see the pictures instantly.
It was a bright clear spring day, with brilliant sunshine, the kind of
day that made it worthwhile living through Bellingham's rainy
seasons. The snow-crowned peaks of Mount Baker and the Twin
Sisters stood magnificently above the foothills to the east. The view
was impressive even to aÒative; it was enough to have Angelenos
gawking. They stood near the old Bellingham city hail, a red brick
castle complete with towers and Chuckanut granite, and alternately
looked out across the bay to the San Juan Islands, then back to
the mountains.
When Kevin Shakes saw a uniform coming toward them he
wondered if something was wrong. His eyes flicked toward the
truck-had he parked in the wrong place? A city kid's reaction. In a
small town like Bellingham you could park nearly anywhere you
liked.
The uniform was brown, short-sleeved, decorated with badges
and a gun belt. The man wearing it was three or four years older
than Kevin's eighteen. He was grinning and taking off his hat,
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]