Frederik Pohl: Chernobyl

"Because it would flop at the box office," Pembroke predicted when Stark-had translated. "There is only one supreme rule for our American filmmakers. Their films must not lose money. They will be forgiven for anything else, but not that."

"Ah, yes, the capitalist devotion to the dollar."

Pembroke was shaking his head before Stark finished putting the sentence into English. "Yes. But also no. It is the way capitalism works, but that way is not necessarily bad. McDonald's serves better food than the buffet in a Soviet hotel. Why? The people who run McDonald's are better motivated. They know if they don't satisfy their customers, they're out of business. What motivates them is money."

"In fact," Stark put in in English, when he was through with the Russian, "even V. I. Lenin encouraged small private ventures during the period of the New Economic Policy, for just that reason."

"And you could try it again," Pembroke grinned. "Especially in your restaurants. Is it my turn to bring up a small thing? Then let it be this: why do the doormen in every halfway decent restaurant in Moscow work so hard to keep customers out?"

"A good question," Stark applauded. "I have my own answer, but first let's defer to Mr. Mishko." He rapidly translated the question and relayed Mishko's answer. "Mr. Mishko suggests it is mostly because these jobs are given to old people, and old people of any country are likely to be crotchety. I have a different theory. I think it is because of the rule of 'eternal vigilance.' Every Soviet child is educated to be on guard at every moment against enemies of the state-shirkers, black marketeers, drunkards. Oh, and worse than that, of course, but your average ten-year-old child does not encounter many traitors or CIA agents in his playground. To be sure, many of these children themselves grow up to be drunkards and black marketeers. But they never forget 'eternal vigilance.' Then they achieve a position of some authority-doorman in a restaurant, ticket taker at a theater, conductor on a trolleybus. They guard their portals! And they do it ever vigilantly. No trespassers! When in doubt, say no, because to be too vigilant is only an excess of zeal, but not to be vigilant enough threatens the state-so each one is as consecrated as an agent of the KGB itself!"

He was grinning as he elaborated his thesis, and Pembroke and Emmaline returned his smile. But as Stark translated for Mishko's benefit, his own smile faltered before the expression on the face of the man from the Central Committee. There was a rapid interchange which Emmaline could not follow. Then Stark said, with just a touch of strain in his voice, "Our honored guest has rebuked me. He says that I speak of the KGB as Americans do in their spy novels, whereas in fact the organs of the state are, in a sense, the elements which lead us to a more complete democracy."

"Oh, reallycried Emmaline, unable to help herself.

"Yes, really," Stark said firmly. "Mr. Mishko is quite correct. You have the opinion, I am sure, that the Soviet Union has become more 'liberal,' as you would say, in the past ten years or so. And who brought this about? First Andropov, himself a former head of the KGB. Now Gorbachev, Andropov's proteg6. You are quite mistaken if you think the KGB are all cold warriors, like your own spies and operatives. They-"

He hesitated, then shrugged, smiling again. He took the botde out of the freezer again, with four new icy glasses. As he poured, he said, "And so we see how quickly we move from small things to big ones!"

The big things got quickly bigger. Emmaline knew what was coming, and yet was surprised when old Mr. Mishko moved at once to Star Wars. "Since it is my turn, I ask why America is more interested in building new weapons in space than in nuclear disarmament?"

Pembroke turned his empty glass around in his hand. "Does Mr. Mishko think Star Wars will work?" he asked.

The answer came back quickly: "As a 'nuclear umbrella' to protect that pretty little girl we see on American television, no. Of course not. Our scientists say such a total defensive shield is quite impossible, and our scientists are quite intelligent. For that matter, most of your own scientists say the same."

"Then why do you oppose it?"

"Because, first, if it worked even partially, it would be an excellent adjunct to a first strike, made without warning-and your country has always refused to abjure any first use of nuclear weapons. Second, in the course of working on it, you will come up with some very troubling new weapons. These

X-ray lasers with which you propose to destroy our missiles in flight, for example. If they can shoot down a thousand missiles in five minutes, then surely they could, for example, set fire to all of our cities. Is that an effective way to wage a war? Ask the people of Dresden or Tokyo! But," Stark went on, raising a hand as Pembroke was about to speak, "Mr. Mishko asks me to point out that he has answered your questions, but you have not answered his. Why?"

This time Pembroke didn't hesitate. "Americans are afraid of you," he said. "They're afraid that if there's a treaty you'll cheat."

Emmaline's nerves jumped. She had not expected so explicit a word as "cheat." But when Stark translated, Mishko only said, "Yes, we have been accused of cheating. But is it not your rule that even one who is accused is considered innocent until he has been proven guilty?"

Pembroke said stubbornly, "That works only when you have a judge and a jury-and a sentence passed on a person found guilty. There is no international criminal code."

"We have a World Court, which has found America guilty of, for example, mining the harbors of Nicaragua."

Pembroke hesitated. "I'm not in favor of the Contras, and I'm not too crazy about underhanded acts of war. I don't like the CIA much better than the KGB. But that World Court is a joke. It may be biased, as my President claims. It is certainly toothless. It can condemn, but it has no way to punish."

"Because it has no power. Would you give it the power to punish a country such as your own?"

"Would you?"

Mishko took his own turn to think for a moment. "It is not up to me," he said through Stark, "but if it were, I don't think I would. You see, we don't trust Americans, either. You had a treaty that obligated you never to invade the territory of any other American state, but you broke it when you attacked Grenada. You bombed Libya without any declaration of war. Was that any different from Pearl Harbor? You condemn hijacking, but your own Air Force hijacked the civilian plane of a friendly nation over international waters in order to capture the people you blamed for the Achille Lauro -that is defined as piracy-"

"Now, wait!"

"A moment, please," said Stark, in the middle of translation. "There was one more thing. Your CIA overthrew the government of Chile, and didn't even have the decency to do it in the open. Now," he said pleasantly, "what was it you wanted to say, Pembroke?"

Pembroke was scowling. "I was going to say that the Achille Lauro people were terrorists, but I've got a better idea. Let me run through a little list of my own. Your country has not lived up to the Helsinki declaration on human rights. You built a radar at Krasnoyarsk that violates the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty. Your jolly, sweet KGB operates a gulag archipelago that-"

But Stark was holding up his hand. "Can I translate that much before you go on, please? I don't want to get it wrong." And when he had finished, and Pembroke was ready to continue with his list, Mishko grinned broadly and leaned forward to gently slap Pembroke's knee.

Emmaline was astonished to hear Mishko say directly to Pembroke, in slow, thick English: "I speak to you 'Vietnam' and you speak 'Afghanistan.' I speak 'El Salvador,' you speak 'Poland.' I speak 'Bay of Pigs,' you speak 'Hungary.' So for that cause-for cause-" He shrugged and abandoned the attempt at English. He finished in Russian, and Stark translated.