tc.redrabbit-第24章

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　government　e　pletely　unglued。　Moscow　had　told　them　to　sort　things　out　in　the　most　direct　terms；　and　the　Poles　knew　how　to　follow　orders。　The　presence　of　Soviet　Army　tanks　on　their　soil　would　help　them　understand　what　was　necessary　and　what　was　not。　If　this　Polish　〃Solidarity〃　rubbish　went　much　further；　the　infection　would　begin　to　spread…west　to　Germany；　south　to　Czechoslovakia。。。　and　east　to　the　Soviet　Union？　They　couldn't　allow　that。
　　　On　the　other　hand；　if　the　Polish　government　could　suppress　it；　then　things　would　quiet　down　again。　Until　the　next　time？　Andropov　wondered。
　　　Had　his　outlook　been　just　a　little　broader；　he　might　have　grasped　the　fundamental　problem。　As　a　Politburo　member；　he　was　insulated　from　the　more　unpleasant　aspects　of　life　in　his　country。　He　lacked　for　nothing。　Good　food　was　no　farther　away　than　his　telephone。　His　lavish　apartment　was　well　furnished；　outfitted　with　German　appliances。　The　furniture　was　fortable。　The　elevator　in　his　building　was　never　out　of　service。　He　had　a　driver　to　take　him　to　and　from　the　office。　He　had　a　protective　detail　to　make　sure　that　he　was　never　troubled　by　street　hooligans。　He　was　as　protected　as　Nikolay　II　had　been　and；　like　all　men；　he　assumed　that　his　living　conditions　were　normal；　even　though　intellectually　he　knew　that　they　were　anything　but。　The　people　outside　his　windows　had　food　to　eat；　TV　and　films　to　watch；　sports　teams　to　cheer　for；　and　the　chance　to　own　an　automobile；　didn't　they？　In　return　for　giving　them　all　those　things；　he　enjoyed　a　somewhat　better　lifestyle。　That　was　entirely　reasonable；　wasn't　it？　Didn't　he　work　harder　than　they　all　did？　What　the　hell　else　did　those　people　want？
　　　And　now　this　Polish　priest　was　trying　to　upset　the　entire　thing。
　　　And　he　just　might　do　it；　too；　Andropov　thought。　Stalin　had　once　famously　asked　how　many　divisions　the　Pope　had　at　his　mand；　but　even　he　must　have　known　that　not　all　the　power　in　the　world　grew　out　of　the　barrel　of　a　gun。
　　　If　Karol　did　resign　the　papacy；　then　what？　He'd　try　to　e　back　to　Poland。　Might　the　Poles　keep　him　out…revoke　his　citizenship；　for　example？　No；　somehow　he'd　manage　to　get　back　into　Poland。　Andropov　and　the　Poles　had　their　agents　inside　the　church；　of　course；　but　such　things　only　went　so　far。　To　what　extent　did　the　church　have　his　agencies　infiltrated？　There　was　no　telling。　So　no；　any　attempt　to　keep　him　out　of　Poland　was　probably　doomed　to　failure；　and；　once　attempted；　if　the　Pope　did　get　into　Poland；　that　would　be　an　epic　disaster。
　　　They　could　try　diplomatic　contacts。　The　right　Foreign　Ministry　official　could　fly　to　Rome　and　meet　clandestinely　with　Karol　and　try　to　dissuade　him　from　following　through　on　his　threat。　But　what　cards　would　he　be　able　to　play？　An　overt　threat　on　his　life。。。　that　would　not　work。　That　sort　of　challenge　would　be　an　invitation　to　martyrdom　and　sainthood；　which　likely　would　only　encourage　him　to　make　the　trip。　For　a　believer；　it　would　be　an　invitation　to　Heaven；　one　sent　by　the　devil　himself；　and　he'd　pick　up　that　gauntlet　with　alacrity。　No；　you　could　not　threaten　such　a　man　with　death。　Even　threatening　his　people　with　harsher　measures　would　only　encourage　him　further…he'd　want　to　e　home　to　protect　them　all　the　sooner；　so　as　to　appear　more　heroic　to　the　world。
　　　The　sophistication　of　the　threat　he　had　sent　to　Warsaw　was　something　that　only　appreciated　with　contemplation；　Andropov　admitted　to　himself。　But　there　was　one　certain　answer　to　it：　Karol　would　have　to　find　out　for　himself　if　there　really　was　a　god。
　　　Is　there　a　god？　Andropov　wondered。　A　question　for　the　ages；　answered　by　many　people　in　many　ways　until　Karl　Marx　and　Vladimir　Lenin　had　settled　the　matter…at　least　so　far　as　the　Soviet　Union　was　concerned。　No；　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　told　himself；　it　was　too　late　for　him　to　reconsider　his　own　answer　to　that　question。　No；　there　is　no　God。　Life　was　here　and　now；　and　when　it　ended；　it　ended；　and　so　what　you　did　was　the　best　you　could；　living　your　life　as　fully　as　possible；　taking　the　fruit　you　could　reach　and　building　a　ladder　to　seize　those　you　could　not。
　　　But　Karol　was　trying　to　change　that　equation。　He　was　trying　to　shake　the　ladder…or　perhaps　the　tree？　That　question　was　a　little　too　deep。
　　　Andropov　turned　in　his　chair　and　poured　some　vodka　out　of　the　decanter；　then　took　a　contemplative　sip。　Karol　was　trying　to　enforce　his　false　beliefs　on　his　own；　trying　to　shake　the　very　foundations　of　the　Soviet　Union　and　its　far…flung　alliances；　trying　to　tell　people　that　there　was　something　better　to　believe　in。　In　that；　he　was　trying　to　upset　the　work　of　generations；　and　he　and　his　country　could　not　permit　it。　But　he　could　not　forestall　Kami's　effort。　He　could　not　persuade　him　to　turn　away。　No；　Karol　would　have　to　be　stopped　in　a　manner　that　would　forestall　him　fully　and　finally。
　　　It　would　not　be　easy；　and　it　would　not　be　entirely　safe。　But　doing　nothing　was　even　less　safe；　for　him；　for　his　colleagues；　and　for　his　country。
　　　And　so；　Karol　had　to　die。　First；　Andropov　would　have　to　e　up　with　a　plan。　Then　he'd　have　to　take　it　to　the　Politburo。　Before　he　proposed　action；　he'd　have　to　have　the　action　fully　plotted　out；　with　a　guarantee　of　success。　Well；　that　was　what　he　had　KGB　for；　wasn't　it？
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　5　…　GETTING　CLOSE
　　　An　Early　Riser；　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　was　showered；　shaved；　dressed；　and　eating　his　breakfast　before　seven　in　the　morning。　For　him　it　was　bacon；　three　scrambled　eggs；　and　thickly　cut　Russian　bread　with　Danish　butter。　The　coffee　was　German　in　origin；　just　like　the　kitchen　appliances　his　apartment　boasted。　He　had　the　morning　Pravda；　plus　selected　cuttings　from　Western　newspapers；　translated　by　KGB　linguists；　and　some　briefing　material　prepared　in　the　early　hours　of　the　morning　at　The　Centre　and　hand…delivered　to　his　flat　every　morning　at　six。　There　was　nothing　really　important　today；　he　saw；　lighting　his　third　cigarette　and　drinking　his　second　cup　of　coffee。　All　routine。　The　American　President　hadn't　rattled　his　sabre　the　night　before；　which　was　an　agreeable　surprise。　Perhaps　he'd　dozed　off　in　front　of　the　TV；　as　Brezhnev　often　did。
　　　How　much　longer　would　Leonid　continue　to　head　the　Politburo？　Andropov　wondered。　Clearly　the　man　would　not　retire。　If　he　did；　his　children　would　suffer；　and　they　enjoyed　being　the　royal　family　of　the　Soviet　Union　too　much　to　let　their　father　do　that。　Corruption　was　never　a　pretty　thing。　Andropov　did　not　suffer　from　it　himself…indeed；　that　was　one　of　his　core　beliefs。　That　was　why　the　current　situation　was　so　frustrating。　He　would…he　had　to…save　his　country　from　the　chaos　into　which　it　was　falling。　If　I　live　long　enough；　and　Brezhnev　dies　soon　enough；　that　is。　Leonid　Ilyich　was　clearly　in　failing　health。　He'd　managed　to　stop　smoking…at　the　age　of　seventy…six；　which；　Yuriy　Vladimirovich　admitted　to　himself；　was　fairly　impressive…but　the　man　was　in　his　dotage。　His　mind　wandered。　He　had　trouble　remembering　things。　He　occasionally　dozed　off　at　important　meetings；　to　the　dismay　of　his　associates。　But　his　grasp　of　power　was　a　death…grip。　He'd　engineered　the　downfall　of　Nikita　Sergeyevich　Khrushchev　through　a　masterful　series　of　political　maneuvers；　and　nobody　in　Moscow　forgot　that　tidbit　of　political　history…a　trick　like　that　was　unlikely　to　work　on　someone　who'd　engineered　it　himself。　No　one　had　even　suggested　to　Leonid　that　he　might　wish　to　slow　down…if　not　actually　step　slightly　aside；　then　at　least　let　others　undertake　some　of　his　more　administrative　duties　and　allow　him　to　concentrate　his　abilities　on　the　really　major　questions。　The　American　President　was　not　all　that　much　younger　than　Brezhnev；　but　he　had　lived　a　healthier　life；　or　perhaps　came　from　hardier　peasant　stock。
　　　In　his　reflective　moments；　it　struck　Andropov　as　strange　that　he　objected　to　this　sort　of　corruption。　He　saw　it　precisely　as　such；　but　only　rarely　asked　himself　why　he　saw　it　so。　In　those　moments；　he　actually　did　fall　back　on　his　Marxist　beliefs；　the　very　ones　he'd　discarded　years　ago；　because　even　he　had　to　fall　back　on　some　sort　of　ethos；　and　that　was　all　he　had。　Stranger　still；　it　was　an　area　in　which　Marx　and　Christianity　actually　overlapped　in　their　beliefs。　Must　have　been　an　accident。　After　all；　Karl　Marx　had　been　a　Jew；　not　a　Christian；