A Reasonable World

5

In a conference room at SARP, a military think-tank in Akademgorodok, seven high-ranking officers were gathered. Their host was Colonel Professor Arpad Adjarian. The others were representatives of the Russian Army, Navy and Air Force. “During the past year,” Adjarian told them, “there have been over four hundred known cases of the sudden death of a commander at the moment when he was about to give an order for troops to fire or weapons to be launched. In all cases there was no visible sign of violence. The official cause of death, when one was given, was heart failure.

“Our staff has carefully compared these reports, and we find that in more than two hundred cases the subordinate who stepped forward to fill his superior’s position also fell dead. We have sixty cases in which the same thing happened to a third officer. After that, in all cases, action was abandoned.

“These cases can no longer be dismissed as coincidence. As the Americans say, ‘Once is an accident, twice is coincidence, three times is evidence of hostile activity.’ We must conclude that there is a force in the world that does not wish war to be fought by conventional methods, a force that is able and willing to impose its will. I point out that these deaths have occurred all over the world, in the socialist as well as the imperialist camps. We are dealing, in other words, with a third force, as yet unknown.”

“But what is this force?” asked General Vasyutin. “You can’t simply call it ‘unknown.’ ”

“As to that, there are three hypotheses. I will argue in a moment, Comrade General, that our response must be the same no matter what the nature of our enemy, but to reply to your question: First, an international organization, using new weapons, which has infiltrated the armed forces of every nation and even government officials at high levels. Second, after all, that it is merely a series of coincidental events. Third, that these deaths are caused by the so-called McNulty’s Virus acting in a coordinated way to achieve its ends.”

“I don’t believe in invisible intelligences.”

“Nor do I, Comrade General, but as Marxists and scientists we must adhere to the principle of least hypothesis. All three of these possibilities are incredible, but the third is a little less incredible than the others.”

“Let us see if we can test this hypothesis,” said General Durnovo. “If the virus is responsible, why did it begin to act five years after it first appeared?”

“That is accounted for in principle by the progress of the epidemic. According to World Health Organization estimates, there are now approximately two hundred million individual viruses in the world. It may be that this represents a critical value. There are enough viruses, distributed through the world population, to enforce their will wherever they wish. This accords with the fact that in the last six months no command to inflict lethal damage on enemy forces has gone unpunished. Earlier episodes may be accounted for by unusually large local concentrations of virus.”

“Counterrevolutionaries,” muttered General Usakov, a grizzled veteran of the Afghan War.

“With all respect, Comrade General, counterrevolutionaries that act impartially against socialists and imperialists alike? But I say again that in the last analysis it does not matter who or what this force is. We have only two options, to neutralize the third force or to adapt ourselves to it successfully.”

“Assuming that you are right,” said Vasyutin, “which option do you recommend?”

“Both. The Americans and British have developed methods of detecting and destroying the viruses. We have obtained samples of these devices, and Russian scientists are working to improve them. There is a chance that because of our superior organization we will be able to use such devices more effectively than the capitalists, but at the same time we are hampered in a fundamental sense by the vast extent of our territory. Therefore in the short term I believe we must revise our methods in such a way that we can achieve our objectives without violence. Fortunately, there are clear indications that this can be done.”

Adjarian pressed a button. “Here is a possible model of the new Russian infantryman.” In the holotube a man appeared, wearing a lightweight uniform and a helmet with a transparent visor. In his right hand he carried a long pole with a metal apparatus at the end; in his left, a net.

“A retiarius," said Kondakov. “There is his net, and that other thing looks like a trident. Are you really proposing that we go back to Roman times?”

“Quite right. The weapon which you compare to a trident is the device developed by the Americans to subdue and isolate carriers of the virus.” He pressed the button again. On the screen another man appeared, dressed as a civilian. The soldier stepped forward, leveled his weapon and thrust it at the other man’s waist. The device at the end of the pole locked around the captive. The soldier dragged him away.

“That’s all very well for an unarmed man,” said Vasyutin, “but what does it have to do with combat?”

“If the other man were conventionally armed,” replied Adjarian, “his weapons would be useless. Under the assumptions we are discussing, if he even formed the intention of killing our infantryman, let’s say with a rifle or a grenade, he would fall dead.”

“And if he had the same weapons as our man?”

“For that, we have a computer simulation that is quite interesting.”

In the holotube, a rolling landscape appeared. Two armed bodies of men were approaching each other through the scattered trees, some in personnel carriers, others on foot. One group was in blue uniforms, the other in brown. The footsoldiers were variously armed, some with shields and long poles with padded tips, others with “tridents” and nets.

As the two groups closed, mortars on either side began firing. The projectiles were large white objects; when they struck the enemy, the latter were knocked down, and the projectiles burst, releasing clouds of white powder.

“Pillow fights?” said General Usakov incredulously. “I’ve seen enough.”

“I hope you’ll stay until the demonstration is over. I understand your feeling, Comrade General, but kindly reserve judgment. By the way,” Adjarian added, “those white clouds you see do not represent chemical agents, but simply chalk dust, intended to confuse the enemy and reduce his range of vision.”

Now water cannons were bowling over men on either side. A hail of rubber bullets spun them around. Then the two sides had closed. The shieldmen thrust at the opponents with their padded poles; the retiarii thrust with their tridents. Whenever a man fell, a retiarius was there to tangle him in a net or capture him with a trident.

The watching officers observed that when two shieldmen were engaged, a retiarius could circle around one of them and bring him down; conversely, when two retiarii faced each other, a shieldman with his longer weapon could knock one of the combatants off his feet.

When the brief engagement was over, the brown army was mopping up. The remaining blue soldiers were surrounded, netted or secured with tridents, and led away to the rear.

“I see that we shall have to read our Vegetius again,” said Vasyutin.

“Indeed,” responded Adjarian, “and very carefully. Well, comrades, of course this is only a simulation, but from it we learn that in an encounter between two forces armed with the same weapons, discipline, strength, and numbers will prevail. That is somewhat reassuring. Weapons change, but war is still war.”

“What if your enemy is not on foot, but in tanks and armored carriers?”

“I might reply that in that case, we would be in tanks and carriers too, but a better question is, what can men in tanks and carriers accomplish? Tanks can push down obstacles and destroy buildings, true, but in doing so they will kill people, and the soldiers in them will die. In any event, at some point in any engagement, the soldiers must get out of their vehicles in order to achieve their objective of subduing the enemy, and then the situation is as before.”

“What about aircraft?” demanded an officer with silver wings on his lapels.

“To drop chemical agents and smokescreens, certainly. We’ll have to investigate that sort of thing carefully. There may be an advantage in using these methods when a commander is faced by troops better trained or more numerous than his own. But it’s also possible that they would only confuse and delay the issue. Here we can draw on the lessons of the First Imperialist War. At any rate, we’ll certainly need light, low-flying aircraft for reconnaissance and diversion, but—under these assumptions—heavy bombers and fighters are a thing of the past.”

“And the Navy?” asked Admiral Levachevsky.

“For transport, support operations and intelligence gathering, yes. But to the extent that the Navy exists to inflict mortal damage on the enemy, it too is a thing of the past.”

Afterward Vasyutin, who happened to be Adjarian’s father-in-law, came to the Colonel’s office, closed the door and sat down rather heavily. “Arpad,” he said, “I am very tired. Be so kind as to give me a cigarette.”

Adjarian pushed the cigarette box across his desk and offered a lighter.

Puffing smoke, Vasyutin resumed, “You know, I couldn’t help thinking as you spoke that the problem you described so well is even more acute in internal security than in the armed forces. After all, one has to fight a war every fifteen or twenty years, but security matters go on by day and night.”

“True, Trofim Semyonich,” said Adjarian, “but fortunately that’s not your concern or mine.”

“No, it isn’t. But I think you should know that unusual deaths among the KGB have been a matter for serious concern in the Kremlin for over a year. There have also been some unexplained fatalities in the Party apparatus in Volgograd, in Novosibirsk, and other places. This is not public knowledge, of course, and I count on your discretion.”

“Of course, that goes without saying.”

“How is Natashka, by the way? And the children?”

“Very well, thank you. Petya is a big boy now, you would not recognize him.”

“I wanted to get out to see you all while I was here, but it’s impossible. I am flying back to Moscow in an hour.” Vasyutin drew meditatively on his cigarette. After a moment he went on, “I’m inclined to believe you when you say the virus is responsible. As you say, one hypothesis is more fantastic than the other, but this one is a little less fantastic. What worries me is the question, can the state be held together without violence?” He waved a hand. “Don’t bother to tell me that it ought to be. My question is, can it be?”

Adjarian was silent.

Vasyutin continued for a moment in English, “You know, perhaps, what Dr. Samuel Johnson said? ‘Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.’ Of course he didn’t mean that patriotism is a bad thing, but in fact it is one of the worst things in the world. Patriotism is that emotion that persuades young men to be killed in a war; it has no other use. We are taught to love our country, but as I grow older, I realize more and more that one cannot love a country, only land and people.

“Now I’m going to tell you something else, and this you must regard as absolutely confidential. Somehow the rumors of these KGB deaths have got out. There have been incidents . . . Last week in Moscow a gang of hooligans attacked a ‘bread truck’ in broad daylight, pulled out the driver and two guards, beat them up, and released five prisoners while a crowd watched. They are still at large, both the hooligans and the prisoners. What I want to know is, if there are no prisoners and no jailers, can there be a Russian state? Well, well, Arpad, we live in interesting times, to be sure.” He stood up. “Until later, dear boy. Give my love to Natalya.”

Adjarian went home to his dacha, greeted his wife and children, and sat down in the garden with a pipe to wait for supper. Comforting sounds and smells came from the kitchen. The apple tree was in bloom; the evening sky was pure. A mood of melancholy came over him: how terrible it would be to leave all this!

He was just over forty, a rising man with solid accomplishments behind him. Arms, strategy, tactics, military history and philosophy, however, were all he knew. The words of his father-in-law came back to him: “If there are no prisoners and no jailors, can there be a Russian state?”

Or, for that matter, any state?

Adjarian considered himself a realist, and he knew that the problems they were facing went far beyond the military aspect.

If his views were correct they would eventually prevail, and his position would be more secure than ever. But if the foundations of the Republic were crumbling?

Adjarian thought of the brutally repressed “Moscow Spring” of seventeen years ago, of the Gulag and Lubyanka Prison, the censorship of newspapers, the gray hand of bureaucracy everywhere. As an Armenian, he knew exactly how much love for the Russians there was in the Autonomous Okrugs still remaining within the Russian Federated Socialist Republic. What if the state could no longer keep ethnic and nationalist enthusiasm under control? Or what if, in spite of everything, patriotism became outmoded—war itself impossible?

In the house he heard Piotr quarreling with his sister. Then his wife’s calm voice, and after a moment a burst of laughter. Adjarian smiled.