Oberheim (Voices) Part 24

A WALK THROUGH THE NIGHT

THERE'S NO WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY DESCRIBE THIS. One foot after the other. Rock walls rising black on either side, a chasm of stars. The road like a gray snake winding through cold air. Night.

WHEN YOU'RE READING A BOOK..... YOU'RE ALWAYS SAFE INSIDE YOUR MIND.

THERE ARE WALLS AND WARMTH AROUND YOU. THERE'S NO WAY YOU CAN FEEL EXPOSED, LIKE THIS. The sound of shoes on pavement. A chill sweat.

THIS WEAKNESS. IT PUTS YOU IN A DIFFERENT WORLD, MAKES YOUR MIND FEEL.....STRETCHED. This weakness. It puts you in a different world, makes your mind feel. . . stretched. Convulsed stride and a kind of shudder. d.a.m.n.

WHY AM I ALWAYS EXPOSED LIKE THIS? ALL THOSE YEARS, DON'T THEY MEAN ANYTHING? Hunger and cold. MAYBE I COULD WRITE A STORY..... WOULD THAT MAKE IT ANY BETTER? A sound to my right. The same fear again.

YOU CAN'T KNOW UNTIL YOU'VE FELT THESE THINGS. I ALWAYS THOUGHT I WAS GOING SOMEWHERE. NOWHERE BUT THIS ROAD. Another shudder from the cold. Chills again. d.a.m.n IT. d.a.m.n IT!

"Save your strength."

I'VE STILL GOT A LONG WAY TO GO.

KGB

Images sifted through his subconscious as he slept, and his mind put a story to them.

A villa just outside Berlin, in the narrow strip of West Germany surrounded by the communist East. A beautiful dark-eyed Russian woman, a defector, lived here beneath the shelter of trees.

She was not alone here. Other defectors. . .no, patriots. Bulgarians, Poles and others, who loathed their totalitarian masters and the brutality, without freedom, under which their peoples were forced to live, and work away their lives, like ants. Former high-ranking members of the government, military, and intelligence branches of the Eastern bloc and the Soviet Union. KGB. Here they lived in close communion, despite the danger, working sometimes with the West, sometimes without it, according to their skills, to undermine the iron grip of the communist leadership, to encourage and protect dissidents, and to publish their work both home and abroad. As well as other goals that were more immediately humane.

It was not a place loved by the Kremlin or the East German puppets, the loyal KGB. Many times a.s.sa.s.sins, head hunters had been sent, either to infiltrate or destroy the traitorous band. But so far as could be told, under the watchful and knowing eyes of Sonya s.e.m.e.nov, herself a former agent, none had yet succeeded their aim. And those who had tried, the captured, sure of death, had not been executed, or even turned over to the west. Instead they were sent back unharmed, with no greater injury than the knowledge that a hated sect had shown them mercy, and (to some) disquieting questions about their own loyalty and courage.

For mistress s.e.m.e.nov, the former operative, used methods of testing that were quite unique. Those who arrived at the Villa under pretense of defection, always suspect, were kept alone in a bas.e.m.e.nt cell, of drab cement, for two days and nights without food or water. Their only contact with the world outside was a tiny, barred window that looked out on a beautiful garden, filled with birds. This window was kept shuttered, blocking out all light and sound, but for five minute periods twice daily. At all other times the cell was dark, cool and silent. There was no bed, nor any comfort to be found.

On the third day a single cup of water was brought, and the steel shutters remained closed. At intervals, moving pictures were projected from a square opening onto the opposing wall of gray: scenes from the Holocaust, the American bombing of Hiroshima, the torture and later execution of a 'dissident' during the Stalin era. Grim portraits with no clear political message or theme, except that of human suffering.

Always suffering.

After two more days of this an evening meal was brought, along with water and wine, by one of the women (or men) of the allegiance. A comfortable bed was made of a mattress against the hard floor. The window was opened and she (or he), the deliverer, remained for the night: kissing, ma.s.saging aching limbs, making love. The entire ritual was then repeated. Afterwards, the pledge was sent to a small cabin in the woods, given food, drink and writing materials, and told to return in three weeks time.

The final test, after the writing had been studied by. . .was making love to Sonya s.e.m.e.nov. . .the group..... Making love. . .and love. . .

kissing, ma.s.saging..... Sonya s.e.m.e.nov.....

"Sonya."

The man stirred, but did not wake, in his sleep. The sensations, physical, of his love seemed to fade. They faded. And as he sank back the dream began again, at the beginning. But this time he was Sonya s.e.m.e.nov, a man, and a dark-haired Hungarian woman had come to them, escaped from the life of concubine to a ranking member of the Presidium, as she explained to the others. Wearing a deep melancholy, whose depth was still greater for the pain in her large eyes, which could hide nothing of what she felt, whom he trusted instantly, or would have, except that he was Sonya s.e.m.e.nov, and life had taught him not to trust.

She was put to the test, and every minute he hovered like an angel above her, seeing her pain, in the merciless concrete room, her great and caring heart that had been so maimed, and always wanting her, wanting to disband, destroy the test, because she was so beautiful and incapable of anything but truth. Wanting her, and loving her more and more. And when she went into the woods his spirit followed her, and the poetry she wrote, which spoke of suffering, the suffering of others, he felt because of her. And he loved her still more and she was everything that he had never found after an eternity. And after an eternity she returned from those woods, made magic by her presence, whose green leaves lifted for her in the wind and turned their light undersides like Spring, the dark green returning like deepest summer as she came back to them. The Villa. And those who questioned her he wanted to kill but mostly only wanted her and needed to be with her.

Wanting her, and the time of their joining drew near and he knew she would make love to her, Sonya, and he prayed in his sleep that the dream would not fade.

And at the last she came to him. In the beautiful dying light of the day, she lifted away her garment and stood shimmering by the open door of the balcony, as the wind kissed her hair and rustled the leaves in the high branches and she trembled slightly. And he was a woman once more, in love and then a man, and they kissed as their b.r.e.a.s.t.s touched through long hair and they stood in glorious nakedness and nothing held back. And he led her to the bed and laid her down and made the sweetest, purest love, giving her everything so gently as she quietly groaned and still the pain was in her face but now a different kind of pain, and he loved her as he had never loved and would never love again, touch-kissing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pouring out his soul. And as the love consumed and soon would be incarnate he closed his eyes. He was Sonya, and his lover lifted something that gleamed a little and seemed so unnatural, and stabbed her throat.

And Sonya s.e.m.e.nov was dead, killed by a Russian a.s.sa.s.sin, in the year 1989.

Salnikov woke in a cold sweat, as his memory raced to put back the pieces of history and dream. KGB. He shuddered, because he knew it was true.

ACT THREE

Andromeda, Balthazar, Cerberus, Gorky and Larkspur Sectors Months VI through XII International Year: 2211

SAHARA OF SNOW

I

On June 6, 2211 (by Euro-American dating) an open letter was sent to the President and Congress of the United Commonwealth by Gen. Charles William Hayes, then acting as its Secretary of State. On June 12 it was read to a specially convened Joint Session by Defense Secretary Aaron Brown, himself a distinguished veteran. Copies of the transcript were then made available to the press. The President did not attend the reading.

My Fellow Americans:

We have embarked upon a Great Crusade. On May the 30th, under my direction and leadership, The Third Fleet, in conjunction with the forces of the Democratic Alliance of Belgium and Switzerland, engaged and defeated the combined fleets of the Communist Coalition before the star system commonly known as Tarkus Minor, thus achieving the liberation of its peoples, who have labored so long under the oppressive yoke of Marxism.

In the wake of its dictatorial regime we have established democracy: a provisional government under the auspices of the Belgians and Swiss.

Though this outside hand in the political affairs of another nation is regrettable, it must be remembered the that inhabitants of these colonies, though proud and courageous, have been kept in the darkness of atheistic communist doctrines for many years, and that some will not at first be willing, over even able, to accept the blessings of true freedom. The freedom of thought, speech and worship which we enjoy, will at first seem strange and painful to them, just as dazzling sunlight is painful to the eyes of one long imprisoned beneath the ground. But just as the doctor's slap which startles the new-born child to life, though sudden and unexpected, is wholly necessary and the catalyst to a new life, so these first steps toward democracy, however painful, must be taken boldly and resolutely.

And this victory is but the beginning. For the first time in nearly three centuries, we are given the power to rid the cosmos forever of the spreading and malignant cancer of communism. Not since 1946 at Malta, when our predecessors, out of blindness and misguided compa.s.sion, declined to use the birth of nuclear weapons to rid Eastern Europe of the Soviets---Slavic hordes which would dominate her peoples to this day---have we been given the necessary tactical advantage to realize this great dream. Once again we have the capability to strike and overwhelm in the same motion.