tc.redrabbit-第30节

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n　dispatched　back　to　Mother　Russia　by　the　Germans　in　the　hope　that　he　could　upset　the　czar's　government；　allowing　Germany　then　to　defeat　the　other　Western　nations　on　the　Western　Front　of　the　First　World　War。　All　in　all；　it　didn't　sound　like　something　ordained　by　any　deity　for　some　great　plan　for　human　advancement；　did　it？　Everything　Lenin　had　used　as　a　model　for　changing　his　country…and　through　it；　the　entire　world…had　e　from　a　book　written　by　Karl　Marx；　more　writings　by　Friedrich　Engels；　and　his　own　vision　for　being　the　chief　of　a　new　kind　of　country。
　　　The　only　thing　that　distinguished　Marxism…Leninism　from　a　religion　was　the　lack　of　a　godhead。　Both　systems　claimed　absolute　authority　over　the　affairs　of　men；　and　both　claimed　to　be　right　a　priori。　Except　that　his　country's　system　chose　to　assert　that　authority　by　exercising　the　power　of　life　and　death。
　　　His　country　said　it　worked　for　justice；　for　the　good　of　the　workers　and　peasants　all　around　the　world。　But　other　men；　higher　up　in　the　hierarchy；　decided　who　the　workers　and　peasant　were；　and　they　themselves　lived　in　ornate　dachas　and　multiroom　flats；　and　had　automobiles　and　drivers。。。　and　privileges。
　　　What　privileges　they　had！　Zaitzev　had　also　dispatched　messages　about　pantyhose　and　perfumes　that　the　men　in　this　building　wanted　for　their　women。　These　items　were　often　delivered　in　the　diplomatic　bag　from　embassies　in　the　West；　things　his　own　country　could　not　produce；　but　which　the　nomenklatura　craved；　along　with　their　West　German　refrigerators　and　stoves。　When　he　saw　the　big　shots　racing　down　the　center　of　Moscow's　streets　in　their　chauffeured　Zils；　then　Zaitzev　understood　how　Lenin　had　felt　about　the　czars。　The　czar　had　claimed　divine　right　as　his　personal　deed　to　power。　The　Party　chieftains　claimed　their　positions　by　the　will　of　the　people。
　　　Except　that　the　People　had　never　given　anything　to　them　by　public　acclamation。　The　Western　democracies　had　elections…Pravda　spat　upon　them　every　few　years…but　they　were　real　elections。　England　was　now　run　by　a　nasty…looking　woman；　and　America　by　an　aged　and　buffoonish　actor；　but　both　had　been　chosen　by　the　people　of　their　countries；　and　the　previous　rulers　had　been　removed　by　popular　choice。　Neither　leader　was　well…loved　in　the　Soviet　Union；　and　he'd　seen　many　official　messages　sent　out　to　ascertain　their　mental　state　and　deeply　held　political　beliefs；　the　concern　in　those　messages　had　been　manifest；　and　Zaitzev　himself　had　his　worries；　but　as　distasteful　and　unstable　as　these　leaders　might　be；　their　people　had　chosen　them。　The　Soviet　people　had　decidedly　not　selected　the　current　crop　of　princes　on　the　Politburo。
　　　And　now　the　new　munist　princes　were　thinking　about　murdering　a　Polish　priest　in　Rome。　But　how　did　he　threaten　the　Rodina？　This　Pope　fellow　had　no　military　formations　at　his　mand。　A　political　threat；　then？　But　how？　The　Vatican　was　supposed　to　have　diplomatic　identity；　but　nationhood　without　military　power　was…what？　If　there　was　no　God；　then　whatever　power　the　Pope　exercised　had　to　be　an　illusion；　of　no　more　substance　than　a　puff　of　cigarette　smoke。　Zaitzev's　country　had　the　greatest　army　on　earth；　a　fact　proclaimed　regularly　by　We　Serve　the　Soviet　Union；　the　TV　show　that　everybody　watched。
　　　So；　why　do　they　want　to　kill　a　man　who　poses　no　threat？　Would　he　part　the　oceans　with　a　wave　of　his　staff　or　bring　down　plagues　on　the　land？　Of　course　not。
　　　And　to　kill　a　harmless　man　is　a　crime；　Zaitzev　told　himself；　exercising　his　mind　for　the　first　time　in　his　tenure　at　#2　Dzerzhinskiy　Square；　silently　asserting　his　free　will。　He'd　asked　a　question　and　e　up　with　an　answer。
　　　It　would　have　been　helpful　if　he'd　had　someone　to　talk　to　about　that；　but　of　course　that　was　out　of　the　question。　That　left　Zaitzev　without　a　safety　valve…a　way　to　process　his　feelings　and　bring　them　to　some　kind　of　resolution。　The　laws　and　customs　of　his　nation　forced　him　to　recycle　his　thoughts　over　and　over；　and　ultimately　that　led　in　only　one　direction。　That　it　was　a　direction　of　which　the　State　would　not　approve　was；　in　the　end；　a　product　of　the　State's　own　making。
　　　On　finishing　his　lunch；　he　sipped　his　tea　and　lit　a　cigarette；　but　that　contemplative　act　didn't　help　the　state　of　his　mind。　The　hamster　was　still　running　in　its　wheel。　No　one　in　the　huge　dining　room　noticed。　To　those　who　saw　Zaitzev；　he　was　just　one　more　man　enjoying　his　after…meal　smoke　in　solitude。　Like　all　Soviet　citizens；　Zaitzev　knew　how　to　hide　his　feelings；　and　so　his　face　gave　nothing　away。　He　just　looked　at　the　wall　clock　so　that　he　wouldn't　be　late　going　back　to　work　for　his　afternoon　watch；　just　one　more　bureaucrat　in　a　large　building　full　of　them。
　　　Upstairs；　it　was　a　little　different。　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy　hadn't　wanted　to　interrupt　the　Chairman's　lunch；　and　so　he'd　sat　in　his　own　office　waiting　for　the　hands　on　the　clock　to　move；　munching　on　his　own　sandwich　but　ignoring　the　cup　of　soup　that　had　e　with　it。　Like　his　Chairman；　he　smoked　American　Marlboro　cigarettes；　which　were　milder　and　better　made　than　their　Soviet　counterparts。　It　was　an　affectation　he'd　picked　up　in　the　field；　but　as　a　high…ranking　First　Chief　Directorate　officer；　he　could　shop　at　the　special　store　in　Moscow　Centre。　They　were　expensive；　even　for　one　paid　in　〃certificate〃　rubles；　but　he　only　drank　cheap　vodka；　so　it　evened　out。　He　wondered　how　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　would　react　to　Goderenko's　message。　Ruslan　Borissovich　was　a　very　capable　rezident；　careful　and　conservative；　and　a　man　senior　enough　to　be　allowed　to　talk　back；　as　it　were。　His　job；　after　all；　was　to　feed　good　information　to　Moscow　Centre；　and　if　he　thought　something　might　promise　that　mission；　it　was　his　duty　to　warn　them　about　it…and　besides；　the　original　dispatch　had　not　carried　an　obligatory　directive　in　it；　just　an　instruction　to　ascertain　a　situation。　So；　no；　Ruslan　Borissovich　would　probably　not　get　into　any　trouble　from　his　reply。　But　Andropov　might　bark　and；　if　he　did；　then　he；　Colonel　A。　N。　Rozhdestvenskiy；　would　bear　the　noise；　which　was　never　fun。　His　place　here　was　enviable　in　one　way　and　frightening　in　another。　He　had　the　ear　of　the　Chairman；　but　being　that　close　meant　that　he　had　to　be　close　to　the　teeth；　too。　In　the　history　of　KGB；　it　was　not　unknown　for　some　people　to　suffer　for　the　actions　of　others。　But　it　was　unlikely　in　this　case。　Though　an　undeniably　tough　man；　Andropov　was　also　a　reasonably　fair　one。　Even　so；　it　didn't　pay　to　be　too　close　to　a　rumbling　volcano。　His　desk　phone　rang。　It　was　the　Chairman's　private　secretary。
　　　〃The　Chairman　will　see　you　now；　rade　Colonel。〃
　　　〃Spasiba。〃　He　rose　and　walked　down　the　corridor。
　　　〃We　have　a　reply　from　Colonel　Goderenko；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　reported；　handing　it　over。
　　　For　his　part；　Andropov　was　not　surprised；　and　to　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy's　invisible　relief；　he　did　not　lose　his　temper。
　　　〃I　expected　this。　Our　people　have　lost　their　sense　of　daring；　haven't　they；　Aleksey　Nikolay'ch？〃
　　　〃rade　Chairman；　the　rezident　gives　you　his　professional　assessment　of　the　problem；〃　the　field　officer　answered。
　　　〃Go　on；〃　Andropov　manded。
　　　〃rade　Chairman；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　replied；　choosing　his　words　with　the　greatest　care；　〃you　cannot　undertake　an　operation　like　the　one　you　are　evidently　considering　without　political　risks。　This　priest　has　a　good　deal　of　influence；　however　illusory　that　influence　may　be。　Ruslan　Borissovich　is　concerned　that　an　attack　on　him　might　affect　his　ability　to　gather　information；　and　that；　rade；　is　his　primary　task。〃
　　　〃The　assessment　of　political　risk　is　my　job；　not　his。〃
　　　〃That　is　true；　rade　Chairman；　but　it　is　his　territory；　and　it　is　his　job　to　tell　you　what　he　thinks　you　need　to　know。　The　loss　of　some　of　his　agents'　services　could　be　costly　to　us　both　in　direct　and　indirect　terms。〃
　　　〃How　costly？〃
　　　〃That　is　impossible　to　predict。　The　Rome　rezidentura　has　a　number　of　highly　productive　agents　for　NATO　military　and　political　intelligence　information。　Can　we　live　without　it？　Yes；　I　suppose　we　could；　but　better　that　we　should　live　with　it。　The　human　factors　involved　make　prediction　difficult。　Running　agents　is　an　art　and　not　a　science；　you　see。　〃
　　　〃So　you　have　told　me　before；　Aleksey。〃　Andropov　rubbed　his　eyes　tiredly。　His　skin　was　a　little　sallow　today；　Rozhdestvenskiy　noted。　Was　his　liver　problem　kicking　up　again？
　　　〃Our　agents　are　all　people；　and　individual　people　have　their　individual　peculiarities。　There　is　no　avoiding　it；〃　Rozhdestvenskiy　explained　for　perhaps　the　hundredth　time。　It　could　have　been　worse；　Andropov　actually　listened　some　of　the　time。　His　predecessors　had　not　all　been　so　enlightened。　Perhaps　it　came　from　Yuriy　Vladimirovich's　intelligence。　
　　　〃That's　what　I　like　about　signals　intelligence；〃　the　Chairman　of　KGB　groused。　That　was　what　everyone　in　the　business　said；　Colonel　Rozhdestvenskiy　noted。　The　problem　was　in　getting　signals　intelligence。　The　West　was　better　at　it　than　his　country；　despite　their　infiltration　of　the　West's　signals　agencies。　The　American　NSA　and　British　GCHQ；　in　particular；　worked　constantly　to　defeat　Soviet　munications　security　and　occasionally；　they　worried；　succeeded　at　it。　Which　was　why　KGB　depended　so　absolutely　on　one…time　pads。　They　couldn't　trust　anything　else。
　　　〃How　good　is　this？〃　Ryan　as