The Inner Circle (8 page)

"One moment, Popov. I want to make sure I have this correct. You've been using the most expensive, most hi-tech equipment that the Russian government has bought for your own personal star gazing?"

"No, sir. It's not like that – "

Again, General Reikoff interrupted Yuri, but this time he did not do so as politely. The general grabbed a hold of Yuri's shirt and lifted him a few inches off his feet, as Alexei moved a step over. Alexei would have liked to come to his coworker’s defense, but the boy should have heeded his warning and kept his mouth shut. Some people had to learn the hard way that not following orders and trying to make a name for oneself at the expense of the government would not be tolerated.

"Now, you listen here, Popov," Reikoff began, his words seething between his clenched teeth. "This is not play time, you are not here to do what you want. You are here to follow the orders that I, or any other superior officer, give. You are not here to look for stars or comets or anything else you feel is necessary. What you think does not matter. You are here to study and keep track of US satellites."

"I understand, sir, but-"

"But? Don't you understand who I am? How dare you talk back to me in such a manner. How dare you think your side projects are more important than the national defense of our Mother Russia. You can be easily replaced, Popov, and I wonder if I should question your loyalty."

Alexei could see that Yuri was on the verge of tears and he finally decided that now was the best time to intercede.

"Sir, the boy is young and stupid. I must take responsibility for his actions. I suppose I have not shown him the correct way to go about this job."

General Reikoff's face turned back to its normal pasty shade and he lowered Yuri back to the ground. He turned to Alexei.

"Yes, you should have taught him better. You have been working here a long time, Simonova, and you should know by now how to teach your job to another person. Quite frankly you've been a major disappointment as well and I really should fire you both right now. But I won't. I am a reasonable man, I believe in second chances."

With this, the general turned and began to leave the room. Before he was even through the door, Alexei already started to maneuver the telescope into a new position, one to study the area just above Earth, where the US satellites were likely to be.

"But just remember this, Comrades," the general said, his last word spoken in a contemptuous tone of voice. "I do not believe in third chances, for you
or
your families."

When Yuri and Alexei were alone, they could both still feel the tension hanging ominously in the air. Yuri was clearly embarrassed by the whole situation and apologized to Alexei for getting him into trouble as well.

"It's okay, Comrade. I understand what you were trying to do, but I still should have explained things better to you, as the general said."

"Then you know I was right about the black hole and its importance?" Yuri asked, trying to look for some kind of reassurance that his discovery was, in fact, important.

"That does not matter now. Whatever we think is important is not, therefore your discovery is not important. For once I want you to listen to me and listen good. Forget about your black hole, forget about what we have seen today. I have a family to worry about and there's no telling what Reikoff will do if we anger him again. It is time to do our jobs, and that's it."

Everything the two men had seen that day was now wiped out of existence, even if Yuri did not want to accept it. He could no longer mention it to Alexei anymore, as his coworker made it quite clear that he had erased the event from his memory. He couldn't mention it to anybody else who worked at the military installation for fear of it getting back to General Reikoff.

Yuri could not just let it go completely, though.

Yuri waited until Alexei got up to make another pot of coffee and quickly took out an observation form – the same form they had to fill out and file away on a daily basis, whether they saw anything in space or not – and wrote all of the information he could jot down in a few minutes about the black hole and comet. Yuri was pretty sure he remembered to write down everything, from the location of the black hole in the sky to the new course of the comet. When he was finished, Yuri went over to the large filing cabinets on the other side of the room and placed this form amongst forms from two years before. If Alexei or the general or anybody else checked the forms filled out for today, they would find everything nice and normal. Nobody would think to go back two years to see if Yuri made an account of what he saw. Yuri hadn’t even
been
here two years ago.

As Yuri walked back to his workstation, he glanced over at the filing cabinets, wondering just how far back the dates went on the forms stored inside. He wondered if anybody even bothered to read these forms and hoped that somebody would one day find his report and respect what he’d witnessed.

President George Marshall sat across the room from one of the men that he least trusted in the world, but a man with whom he was determined to reach some sort of agreement. The two men were alone in the dimly lit room, trying to figure out exactly the sort of deal that would be fair to both sides, without giving the impression that one side had gotten the better end of the bargain.

Russian President Aleksandr Metachenko slowly sipped from a glass of the finest vodka made in his country, pouring himself his third glass in less than an hour. President Marshall was still working on his first, not allowing the smooth flavor of the alcohol to affect his mind and thus cloud his judgment with his cagey adversary.

"So, Mr. President, you hope to make big splash in your country with our deal?" Metachenko said, his English nearly perfect.

The fact that the Russian President spoke English so well allowed the two men to communicate without the time-consuming annoyance of an interpreter. But it also made President Marshall feel inferior to his Russian counterpart, as Marshall could not speak a word of Russian. Adding this to the fact that the Russian was nearly twenty years his senior, Marshall could not help but worry that he wouldn’t get the best deal possible for his country. Any anxiety Marshall might have had, though, would not be shown at this table, as he kept his perfect poker face throughout the negotiations.

"I hope to make a big splash for both of our countries, President Metachenko. Even though our Cold War has been over for nearly 25 years, our two great nations have not always been the most friendly. If this deal can help to improve relations between America and Russia – if we can really prove that we have total trust in each other – then both of our economies have the chance to profit from better trade dealings."

"Well said," Metachenko replied. "And I must admit that you have been very ambitious so early on in your regime, much more so than your predecessor."

President Marshall was impressed that the Russian had read his character so well and picked up on his eagerness to get something done with Russia. Marshall had only been in office for a short time, having moved into the White House a few months earlier. Many people – even those in his own Cabinet – had been hesitant about his trip to Russia, especially since most thought he did not yet have the presidential experience to deal with such complicated foreign relations. After all, America had been very prosperous as of late and many people agreed with the old saying that 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it.'

Marshall did not agree with this notion, though.  Although he was a bit overeager to prove to the United States citizens that they were correct in electing him to the highest American position, he also felt that the only way to keep the economy running so smoothly was to improve foreign markets. Extending an olive branch to Russia could prove nothing but beneficial in the long run and this was the best way he could figure to start his presidency. If successful, this trip would also show all of his rivals that he could do a good job even though he was one of the country’s youngest presidents ever at the age of 45.

"Thank you. But in America, we refer to them as administrations, not as regimes."

"Of course," Metachenko replied, chuckling. "I do not wish to sound so… un-democratic."

"So we are in agreement on our deal then?" President Marshall asked, getting back to the topic on hand. President Metachenko downed the rest of his vodka in one large gulp.

"I think it would be a good gesture from your country if you were to include information about the newest American space technology."

Metachenko was trying to push Marshall into a corner, hoping he could use the American's eagerness to his advantage. Marshall was no fool though, and his fifteen years of attorney experience taught him to recognize when an opponent was trying to bully him into something that he didn’t want to do.

"President Metachenko, I think we both realize that the journey we’re about to embark on will be a lengthy one, and I see no reason why we must make such drastic measures in the beginning. I think our provisions of deal we already discussed are best for both sides. Once we exchange the cursory details of what we know about each other, then we can discuss furthering our information sharing."

President Metachenko, disappointed that his attempts to receive a better deal for Russia were thwarted, stared out the window in his office. The snow had just stopped falling outside and a strong wind caused the Russian flag to flap uncontrollably.

"You know, the flag of my country is not so different from the flag of yours," Metachenko said. "Same colors, similar horizontal stripes. Maybe it goes to show that we aren't as different as we once thought."

He turned back to Marshall and extended his hand. Metachenko might have given the impression of being a kindly old man, but his grip was as tight a handshake as Marshall had felt before.

"You have a deal, Mr. President."

-         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -        -        -

Thankfully, President Metachenko did not grip Marshall's hand as tightly for all of the pictures for which they posed. The Russian press, as well as a few dozen American reporters, had all been gathered in a large room very close to Metachenko's office, awaiting the results of the Presidents' meeting. When their negotiations finished, Marshall and Metachenko went to the pressroom, where photographers anxiously snapped pictures upon their arrival.

During the press conference, President Marshall had his own personal translator interpret Metachenko's speech. As the Russian spoke, Marshall was flattered to hear all of the kind, encouraging words Metachenko spoke, especially the part about how he was glad the United States now had a president intelligent enough to identify the importance of forging a relationship with Russia. Marshall recognized that most of the speech was just a way for the Russian President to explain to his people that they had much to gain from the Americans. In fact, he found most of the speech to be boring and repetitive and quite a few times he had to fight the urge to yawn.

Blah, blah, blah
, Marshall thought to himself.
Talk more about how well I did
.

When Metachenko finished, he turned the podium over to Marshall. The American President was very enthused to give his speech, which he had carefully prepared before even stepping foot on the plane to Russia. Marshall lived for giving speeches, lived for getting on television and having the American public see his face as much as possible. He never met a photo op he didn’t used to his advantage. His opponent in the presidential election accused him of craving attention from the media, but Marshall didn't look at it that way. He just knew the importance of fame and the way he could control his own image if he made a good impression on people every opportunity he got.

"I would like to take this opportunity to thank President Metachenko and all of Russia for making my trip as pleasant as possible. Their willingness to make this meeting happen was a very encouraging sign that a positive step forward could be taken by both sides, something that people of both our great nations will remember for a long time."

President Marshall paused after every sentence he spoke. While the translator repeated his words into Russian, Marshall was sure to wear a big smile on his face as photographers snapped away with their cameras.

"Today, President Metachenko and I have forged a relationship in the same manner that people of different cultures have been doing for as far back as time has gone: through the sharing of knowledge. Even though this idea might seem very simple, we hope that this will lead many more sharing opportunities between our countries in the future. Today, a bond has been formed between the United States and Russia, one that will hopefully continue to evolve and make each of our countries stronger for years to come."

The two men shook hands again and as President Marshall waved to the cameras and walked out of the room, he was met with a light round of applause. When Marshall reached his Chief of Staff – Peter Mansfield – the two made their way out of the building, where a limousine was ready to bring them straight to the airport, away from this God-awful country. Once outside and safely away from any uninvited third parties, Mansfield had only one thing to say.