“All right, something to that,” Zhukov allowed. “But a little fun’s not against the law every now and then.” He still sometimes thought like a peasant, all right.
Molotov said, “Can we forget the toys for the time being and discuss our plan of action for China? That was, if you will recall, the reason we were to assemble here today. Had I known of the Furry in advance, I assure you I would have put it at the head of the agenda.”
His sarcasm seemed to get through where nothing else had. Instead of blathering on about the stuffed animal, Zhukov said, “Mao’s done better than we thought he could, hasn’t he?”
“Indeed,” Molotov said.
“Now the question is, has he done too well for his own good?” Gromyko said.
“Exactly so, Andrei Andreyevich-exactly so,” Molotov agreed. “If he keeps giving the Lizards as much trouble as he has lately, how soon will they start using explosive-metal bombs to suppress him?”
“Too many of those bombs used already, all over the world,” Gromyko said.
“If the Lizards do start using explosive-metal bombs, they may not get rid of the whole People’s Liberation Army, but they’re liable to wipe out the leadership cadres,” hukov said.
“You are right, Georgi Konstantinovich, and that is not desirable,” Molotov said. “We want the People’s Liberation Army to remain a thorn in the side of the Race for years-indeed, for generations-to come.” He turned to Gromyko. “Andrei Andreyevich, I want you to work closely with Japan and the United States. If all three powers express their displeasure at the use of explosive-metal weapons in China, that may well give the Lizards pause.”
“I shall do my best to arrange a joint declaration, Comrade General Secretary,” Gromyko replied. “Too many sovereignties have already used too many explosive-metal bombs, as I said a moment ago.”
“It bears repeating. We should also emphasize it with the Race,” Molotov said. “And I believe we should make it less urgently necessary for the Race to have to think about using explosive-metal bombs in China.” His gaze swung back to Zhukov. “Do you understand what I mean, Comrade Marshal? Do you agree?” He wished he could simply give Zhukov orders, but the head of the Red Army would have had an easier time giving him orders than the other way round.
Zhukov grunted now. “You want us to stop sending the People’s Liberation Army the German rockets that let them take out tanks and helicopters and airplanes.”
Molotov, for once, did not grudge a smile. “Exactly!”
“Mao will pitch a fit,” Zhukov predicted. “This isn’t the first time we’ve sold him down the river.”
“And it may not be the last, either,” Molotov replied with a shrug. “Is weakening the People’s Liberation Army not what seems best for the Soviet Union and for the world as a whole?”
He waited. If Zhukov said no, he would have to backtrack, and he hated the idea. But, after another grunt, Zhukov said, “Yes, I suppose so. The Chinese will still keep the Lizards in play. They just won’t be able to do such a good job of it. If the Lizards didn’t have explosive-metal bombs, I’d answer differently. Of course, if the Lizards didn’t have explosive-metal bombs and the technology that goes with them, they’d still be stuck on Home.”
“The world would be a different place,” Gromyko said musingly. “Better? Worse? Who can guess?”
“Who indeed?” Molotov said. He thought the Soviet Union would have survived the attack the Nazis were unleashing in 1942 when the Race arrived, he hoped the Soviet Union would have survived, but he was anything but certain. Would anyone have tried flying into space by these early days of 1966 if the Lizards hadn’t shown it could be done? He doubted that.
“No point to such airy-fairy questions,” Zhukov said. “We can only deal with what is, not with what might have been.”
Gromyko’s heavy eyebrows came down and together in a frown; he didn’t care to be casually dismissed like that. But his voice showed none of his annoyance as he asked, “If we make it harder for the Chinese to annoy the Lizards, shall we find some other way to make their lives interesting?”
“What have you got in mind?” Molotov asked.
“When we launched those missile warheads loaded with ginger at the Race’s Australian settlements, the results were highly disruptive-and highly entertaining,” the foreign commissar observed.
But this time Zhukov spoke before Molotov could: “Nyet. We got away with it once, but that is no guarantee we could do it twice. And the hot water we would land in if we got caught… Nyet.”
Reluctantly, Molotov nodded. “I agree with Georgi Konstantinovich. Smuggling ginger is one thing. Bombarding them with it is something else if we get caught: an act of war.” Gromyko sulked. He didn’t show it much-he never showed anything much-but he sulked. Molotov would much sooner have backed him than Zhukov. That would have enhanced his own power and diminished the marshal’s. But he would have no power at all if the USSR went the way of the Greater German Reich. Survival first, Molotov thought. Everything else afterwards, but survival first. He’d lived by that rule for three quarters of a century. He wondered how much further he could go.
Monique Dutourd turned to-turned on-her brother with even more annoyance than usual. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” she demanded.
“Me?” Pierre didn’t just shake his head. He laughed in her face. “If I tried to get Auerbach out of the Lizards’ prison, do you know what would happen? I’d end up back inside it myself, that’s what. No thanks, little sister.”
He was likely right, worse luck. Even so, Monique said, “It’s not fair. The American got me up to Tours, and now he’s locked away.”
“I notice you don’t say anything about his girlfriend,” Pierre remarked.
He was right about that, too. Monique hadn’t said a word about Penny Summers, although she’d also been arrested. Truth was, Monique had little use for Penny, and suspected the feeling was mutual. Trying not to sound defensive, she said, “He did more for me than she did.”
“And what would you like him to do for you?” Pierre asked insolently. Monique looked around for something to throw at him. Before her eye-and her hand-settled on anything, her brother went on, “Remember, I’m not the one who’s got clout with the Lizards any more. You are. Like I’ve said before, you’re the teacher’s pet. And that Ttomalss is sure as hell a Lizard with pull. He’d have a lot better chance of getting the Race to spring Auerbach than I would.”
“Do you really think I could?” Monique heard the astonishment in her own voice. She needed a moment to figure out why she was so astonished. But then she did: she’d never had much power to do things or change things. She’d been done to and changed instead. The idea that she could be an active verb rather than a passive one startled her.
Pierre shrugged. “Suppose he says no. That’s the worst that can happen, and how are you worse off if it does? At the very least, you’ll know you tried.”
“You’re right.” Monique knew she sounded surprised again.
“When’s Ttomalss going to call again?” her brother asked.
“Tomorrow, isn’t it?” Monique answered.
“Yeah, I think that’s right.” Pierre paused and lit a cigarette. “All right, tomorrow you tell him no Auerbach means no ancient Romans. Sound like you mean it and you’ve got a chance.”
“Peut-etre.” Monique started to laugh. “You’re going to be the one who sounds like I mean it. I don’t know the language.”
“We’ll see how it goes,” Pierre said. “If he tells you no flat out, then he does, that’s all.” He blew a smoke ring. Whether the American got out of prison didn’t matter a centime’s worth to him one way or the other.
Ttomalss did telephone the next day. “I greet you,” he said through Pierre. “We were discussing, as I recall, the ways in which the Romans used gradations in status between full subject and full citizen to integrate foreign groups into their empire. Do I understand correctly that a group’s degree of citizenship would depend on the degree to which it had assimilated itself to Roman customs and practices? That strikes me as a very rational approach to administration.”
He did indeed understand correctly. He wasn’t stupid, or anything close to it; he reminded Monique of that with every conversation they held. But he was alien, very alien. He reminded her of that with every conversation they held, too.
“Well,” Pierre said, not translating any more. “Do you try, or don’t you?”
“I do,” Monique replied. “Tell him there is a personal matter we need to discuss before we go on with the Roman history.”
“It shall be done,” her brother said, one of the scraps of the Lizards’ language she understood. He went on with a long sentence of hisses and pops and coughs that were Greek to her-or would have been, save that she knew Greek.
After Pierre finished, Ttomalss let out an amazingly humanlike sigh. “I might have known this would happen,” he said. “In fact, this has already happened, when you arranged to have your brother released from prison to translate for you. What do you want from me this time?”
“I want you to release an American named Rance Auerbach, who, I believe, has been unjustly imprisoned as a ginger dealer,” Monique answered. She said not a word about Penny Summers. If Pierre wanted to tease her more about that, he could. Her conscience didn’t trouble her too much. Auerbach was the one who’d helped her. Penny wasn’t, and hadn’t.