upsets or “spectacular” breakthroughs when the politics of one or the other of the countries demanded, for the next several years. But the talks themselves meant less than nothing. The real decisions would be made by the American people.
Borzov sometimes wondered if the American people believed as much in the efficacy of American Democracy as he did. Because Borzov had known since the War that especially in matters of foreign policy, once most of the people were convinced on an issue, the government had no choice but to go along.
The key to the mind of America was the press. The press controlled access to the people in America, the way the government did here. The press had gotten America into war with Spain; it had driven them from the war in Vietnam. It had toppled a president with scandal and undercut his successors with ridicule.
Most of all, it hid the secret.
The American media were full of Armageddon, Nuclear Holocaust, The End of the World. It had made offending the Soviet Union seem the act of a madman, as witness the editorials every time a president risked it.
“We will bury you,” Khrushchev had said, and that slogan was imprinted daily, implicitly and explicitly, on the brain of every American who could read or turn a knob. And, it seemed, that imprinting took up so much of the American brain that the few who could see past it to the secret were scorned as warmongers and fools. Sometimes Borzov found himself wishing a God existed, so he might thank him.
Borzov told himself the secret again, with a sense of wonder at the truth of it, and pride in the wisdom that had let him see it in time to hide it, and to build his nation’s policy around it.
We do not dare bury them.
We do not dare. Thirty-five percent of our population works to grow food, and it is not enough. The people rose against the Czar because they were hungry, but the Soviet people are not hungry. The Americans grew more food than they could eat (and the press afflicted their conscience with stories of the handful of “hungry”). Much of America’s surplus food found its way to the Soviet Union. If the Americans wouldn’t sell it to them directly, some ally of theirs would be delighted to serve as middleman.
And the Army had a stranglehold on the economy, on research and development. They were ten years behind the Americans in computer technology, and what they had was the result of the work of Borzov’s field agents, or of Americans placing private enterprise ahead of patriotism.
Where would the food come from if they “buried” the Americans? Where would the technology come from, belated as it was, if they ground the West under their heel?
They needed the West. Borzov’s job was not to destroy America and her allies, but to control them. He wanted them to be healthy, but uneasy of mind. They must have the vigor to produce, but lack sufficient will to become a threat to the Soviet system.
There were key events that pushed the balance one way or another. Years ago, Borzov and the late Chairman had devised a system that would give them the edge when some of those events came to be. Now was the time, and the woman was in place. But she refused to do her duty.
It was time for a warning to land closer to home.
The woman known as Petra Hudson was a Soviet spy, and it was time she realized she was expected to follow orders.
Chapter Three
“Y OU DON’T ASK ENOUGH questions to pass as a reporter,” Regina Hudson said.
“Where did you get that idea?” Trotter said.
Regina smiled in spite of herself. She didn’t know what else this Trotter was good at, but he had a definite flair for snappy comebacks. The first thing he’d ever said to her was, “Don’t worry, I plan to carry out the assignment in my Undercover Man uniform, the green one with the epaulets.”
And she had to admit she deserved it. But it had been a surprise. When Rines had gotten back in touch with her, he had gone on and on about how this Trotter was
Borzov sometimes wondered if the American people believed as much in the efficacy of American Democracy as he did. Because Borzov had known since the War that especially in matters of foreign policy, once most of the people were convinced on an issue, the government had no choice but to go along.
The key to the mind of America was the press. The press controlled access to the people in America, the way the government did here. The press had gotten America into war with Spain; it had driven them from the war in Vietnam. It had toppled a president with scandal and undercut his successors with ridicule.
Most of all, it hid the secret.
The American media were full of Armageddon, Nuclear Holocaust, The End of the World. It had made offending the Soviet Union seem the act of a madman, as witness the editorials every time a president risked it.
“We will bury you,” Khrushchev had said, and that slogan was imprinted daily, implicitly and explicitly, on the brain of every American who could read or turn a knob. And, it seemed, that imprinting took up so much of the American brain that the few who could see past it to the secret were scorned as warmongers and fools. Sometimes Borzov found himself wishing a God existed, so he might thank him.
Borzov told himself the secret again, with a sense of wonder at the truth of it, and pride in the wisdom that had let him see it in time to hide it, and to build his nation’s policy around it.
We do not dare bury them.
We do not dare. Thirty-five percent of our population works to grow food, and it is not enough. The people rose against the Czar because they were hungry, but the Soviet people are not hungry. The Americans grew more food than they could eat (and the press afflicted their conscience with stories of the handful of “hungry”). Much of America’s surplus food found its way to the Soviet Union. If the Americans wouldn’t sell it to them directly, some ally of theirs would be delighted to serve as middleman.
And the Army had a stranglehold on the economy, on research and development. They were ten years behind the Americans in computer technology, and what they had was the result of the work of Borzov’s field agents, or of Americans placing private enterprise ahead of patriotism.
Where would the food come from if they “buried” the Americans? Where would the technology come from, belated as it was, if they ground the West under their heel?
They needed the West. Borzov’s job was not to destroy America and her allies, but to control them. He wanted them to be healthy, but uneasy of mind. They must have the vigor to produce, but lack sufficient will to become a threat to the Soviet system.
There were key events that pushed the balance one way or another. Years ago, Borzov and the late Chairman had devised a system that would give them the edge when some of those events came to be. Now was the time, and the woman was in place. But she refused to do her duty.
It was time for a warning to land closer to home.
The woman known as Petra Hudson was a Soviet spy, and it was time she realized she was expected to follow orders.
Chapter Three
“Y OU DON’T ASK ENOUGH questions to pass as a reporter,” Regina Hudson said.
“Where did you get that idea?” Trotter said.
Regina smiled in spite of herself. She didn’t know what else this Trotter was good at, but he had a definite flair for snappy comebacks. The first thing he’d ever said to her was, “Don’t worry, I plan to carry out the assignment in my Undercover Man uniform, the green one with the epaulets.”
And she had to admit she deserved it. But it had been a surprise. When Rines had gotten back in touch with her, he had gone on and on about how this Trotter was
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