Dictator

3

When the team reached the entrance to the darkened building, one of the men guarding it moved to block his way. “Yes, comrade? I have not seen you before.”

“Our home is destroyed,” said Hunter. “We need a place to stay.” He hefted the duffel bag on the strap. “We have no other belongings now but this.”

“Where was this home?” The other man glared suspiciously at him.

“To the west of Moscow,” said Judy quickly. “On a collective farm. Overrun by the Germans, now.”

Hunter could see that she had been caught off guard by the question. He did not respond, concerned that he might contradict something she would say. She still had the best chance of answering to the guard’s satisfaction.

“The Germans have been in their positions for weeks. Where have you been until tonight?”

“A warehouse,” said Judy. “It was too crowded. They threw us out.”

“You are husband and wife?” The guard looked back and forth between them.

“No,” said Hunter. He nodded toward Jane. “This is my sister.”

“Yes,” said Jane. “Our parents died in the war.”

“I’m his cousin,” Judy added.

“And where did your parents die?” Jane hesitated. “I was so upset when it happened…” She turned to Judy uncomfortably.

“We were on the run,” said Judy, with more confidence now. “They were killed somewhere along the highway from Minsk, near Smolensk.”

“And where exactly was your collective farm?”

“Just south of Smolensk.”

“What was it called?”

“The Smolensk Collective Number Two.” The guard studied her face for a moment, apparently without more questions.

“You sustained an injury, comrade,” said the other man, more patiently. “What happened?”

“My cousin was wounded in the Battle of Leningrad,” Judy said proudly. “He was nearly killed. When he could walk, they sent him home to take care of us.”

“Welcome, comrade,” said the second man. “Let them in, Yevgeny. We cannot have them freeze all night.”

The first man nodded and stepped aside.

Hunter led his team inside. They found themselves in a very large, single room that took up the entire ground floor. Two stories high, with windows that had been painted black, it was already crowded. A few people had brought chairs or cots, but most were spreading blankets on the bare wooden floor to mark their personal territory.

“Looks like a warehouse,” said Judy. “It probably housed industrial materials that were shipped east with the factory equipment.”

“People are favoring the sides and the front,” said Hunter. “The back corners are not taken yet. Let us move there quickly and take one for its relative privacy.”

Hunter patiently picked his way through the crowded room to the right rear corner. It was far from the heating vents, but not too cold. He set down the duffel bag.

“Over there,” said Judy, pointing across the room. “Look. An old woman is passing out blankets to some people.”

“We should get some for the two of you,” said Hunter.

“You stay here,” said Judy. “Protect our space. I’ll get them.”

“Take Jane,” said Hunter. “I shall watch you carefully from here.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’re in immediate danger.” Judy headed for the blankets and Jane followed her.

Hunter observed that his concern was overstated. Under stress, humans could be short-tempered and violent, but the people here had fallen into a regular routine, beaten down by the hardships of war and exhaustion. From what Judy had said, this society itself also regimented them severely.

Judy and Jane returned with some blankets.

“They’re wool,” Judy said, handing one to Hunter. “Scratchy, but clean and heavy.”

“I’m not complaining,” said Jane. “It’s the only padding we’ll have on the floor, too.”

“Use mine for your padding as well.” Hunter gave his back to Judy.

Judy and Jane spread out the blankets to sit on. Hunter sat down on the bare floor and leaned back against the cold wall. He saw that no one was close enough to overhear him if he spoke quietly.

“Judy, where would MC 4 go in order to prevent the most harm with the least effort?”

“Well…” Judy glanced around. Then she whispered, switching to English. “He might try to stop the NKVD-the Soviet secret police. They act paranoid, and are irrationally cruel to everyone. Their own people are their primary target. They are always hunting out potential security risks to the government, but that often means execution or lifetime imprisonment for people who merely ask for information or express an opinion. And for talking about them, English is even better than Russian. We can’t chance being understood.”

“Are they actually a greater danger than the upcoming battle itself?” Hunter shifted to English, leaning close to her and lowering his own voice to a whisper.

“The battle will cause a lot of suffering,” said Judy. “But the Soviets will win the Battle of Moscow. It’s their first major victory of the war.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to speak English?” Jane whispered, glancing around. “If we’re heard, they’ll know we aren’t Russian peasants.”

“For the NKVD, yes,” said Judy. “We’re better off raising suspicion than being overheard clearly.”

“On this subject, then, we shall risk it,” whispered Hunter. “However, Judy, the Soviets do not know they are going to win. MC 4 mayor may not know; I cannot assume his motives or information in choosing to come here. Jane has surmised that he has come here because of his responsibility for ethics in Mojave Center, but we have no certainty. So my question about the danger from the NKVD still stands.”

“All right,” said Judy. “I’ll give you the whole picture. Despite their impending counterattack, the Soviets are still on the defensive because this is their territory. As they see it, they must either surrender to Nazi cruelty or run. If they flee, they expect to suffer even more from the winter and the pursuing enemy than if they fight. The Russian people are caught between Stalin, Hitler, and the Russian winter. Those are unbelievably horrible options.”

“You are saying what?” Hunter asked.

“I’m saying that the Russians don’t feel they have much of a choice about whether to fight. So MC 4 can’t go to Stalin, or the Soviet generals, and talk them out of the violence. And if he tries to persuade the NKVD to be more reasonable, they’ll throw him in prison or blow his electronic brains out.”

“The German army is the aggressor on the military front, then,” said Jane. “Maybe he’ll try to stop them.”

“He doesn’t really need to,” said Judy. “Since the Soviets are going to drive them back anyhow. By this time, the German army is almost frozen in place.”

“What happened to them?” Hunter asked. “How could they get this far and then fail without being defeated?”

“They were handled with tremendous incompetence by Hitler. And one of the top German generals refused to issue winter clothing to his troops. He was afraid they would lose confidence in his personal guarantee that they would take shelter in Moscow before the winter turned cold.”

“That’s crazy,” said Jane.

“That’s right,” said Judy grimly. “If it weren’t for the suffering of all the ordinary people caught in the middle, I’d say these two regimes-Hitler’s and Stalin’s-simply deserved each other.”

“Suppose MC 4 convinced the Germans to turn away from Moscow,” said Hunter.

“I don’t see how,” said Judy. “Hitler’s not at the front, and he makes the ultimate strategic decisions.”

“Please consider the supposition.”

“Well-if the battle doesn’t take place, that would be a change of some magnitude,” she said slowly. “But I can’t see it reversing the course of the war. The Soviets will still have the initiative on this front.”

“Perhaps the German command should not be our first priority,” said Hunter. “I brought us here because the data in the sphere console told me that Moscow, not the German lines to the west, was MC 4’s destination. The site of the nuclear explosion confirmed it.”

“MC 4 may move quickly once he returns to full size,” said Jane. “We don’t know if he would choose to stay in Moscow or not.”

“The center of the recent explosion in our own time was in Moscow,” Hunter added. “Of course, MC 4 could have moved around a great deal between now and our own time, once he had the advantages of normal human size. For now, we will remain in Moscow and try to learn if anyone of MC 4’s description has been noticed.”

Judy nodded.

“Do we have a plan of action?” Jane asked.

“I do not want to separate the team,” said Hunter. “As you know, we have had reason to regret doing so in each of the previous missions.”

“And without Steve, one of us would be alone,” Jane added, shaking her head.

“Dinnertime,” said Judy, nodding toward the front.

Much of the crowd had lined up to receive meager rations of bread, boiled potatoes, and water from the long table. The remainder were still arranging their personal belongings at various places around the floor. Only a few had already been served.

Hunter stood up. “We must join the line.”

“Time to switch back to Russian,” said Jane.

Hunter led them to the rear of the line, where they waited patiently. They passed through the line, receiving their dinner of thin soup and a hard roll in an odd assortment of dishes. Then they returned to their corner to eat.

Jane and Judy sat in the corner itself. Hunter placed himself where his body would block the view of them from the other occupants of the room. Then he slipped some of their dried meat out of the duffel bag for Jane and Judy to eat while no one else could see them.

Hunter observed that the Russians were still wide awake after dinner. His team’s first two missions had taken place in summer and the most recent in early fall. This was the first one to take place in winter, with early nightfall. Bedtime would not arrive for a few hours yet. Of his team members, Jane had recently completed a full night’s sleep, though Judy had risen very early to make the trip to Mojave Center.

As Jane finished her dinner, chewing on her hard roll, she saw Judy lean to her right to see past Hunter.

“You know,” Judy said quietly. “After years of studying this era, I finally have a chance to see the people of this time for myself. Since most of the people here are women, I’m sure that I can approach them comfortably for a little conversation.”

“Please be careful,” said Hunter.

“I’ll return our dishes when we’re all finished,” said Judy. “Then I’ll see if I can strike up a conversation on my way back through the crowd. Maybe I can learn something.”

“You want to talk to people?” Jane asked, glancing at Hunter.

“Pleasebe very careful,” Hunter repeated.

Judy smiled. “Don’t worry. I have as much fear of the NKVD as anyone here.”

“We do not want to change anyone’s behavior unnecessarily,” Hunter added.

“I don’t think anything I can say here will change the outcome of the battle.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Jane.

They collected their empty dishes and worked their way back to the front of the warehouse. Jane knew that Judy believed Hunter had an exaggerated fear of how much influence any of the team could possibly have on historical events. So Jane wanted to keep tabs on how Judy handled herself.

Judy took her time on the return trip, looking around for someone to approach. Many people were obviously as comfortable as they could get, having grown accustomed to life in these conditions. Others tended babies or small children and were too occupied to make small talk. Jane followed her, also surveying the crowd.

“How about her?” Jane asked quietly, pointing to one side of the room.

A tired, bent, elderly woman fumbled with her blanket, trying to shake it out with stiff, gnarled fingers. She shuffled to one side, still stooped over, and shook it again. No one paid any attention to her.

Judy worked her way toward her in the crowd. The old woman was obviously alone, though others sat nearby with their own families. By the time Judy reached her, the old woman was on her hands and knees, patiently smoothing and straightening the blanket on the hard floor.

Judy squatted down and tugged the wrinkles out of the last corner. The old woman looked up at her, startled. She looked scared.

“I’m only helping,” Judy said gently. “I’m sorry if I surprised you.”

The old woman nodded, still watching Judy cautiously. Then she glanced up at Jane, who had come to stand behind Judy. The woman’s face was sharp-featured and deeply lined. After a moment, she relaxed a little and sat down on the blanket.

“I’m Judy Taub. What’s your name?”

“Ivana Voronov,” she said quietly. She smiled, though, for the first time. “Please sit down.” She patted the blanket and looked up at Jane again. “And your friend, too.”

Judy squatted down on the blanket, keeping her boots off of it. Jane joined her. The old woman looked back and forth between them, waiting for someone to say something.

“We’re new in this shelter,” said Judy.

“Oh? Where have you been?”

“Well…on the move. We’ve been displaced by the war.” Judy shrugged. “We saw everyone getting off the buses. Where were you? In a work brigade?”

“Oh, yes. We’re digging the big ditches to the west.”

“Ditches?” Jane asked, turning to Judy.

“Antitank ditches,” said Judy quietly. “A quarter million Muscovites are digging them with hand shovels. Three-quarters of the workers are women, since the men are either in the army or working in heavy industry. The ditches are to block the advance of German tanks from the west of the city.”

“By hand?” Jane shook her head, impressed. “Hard work. Especially in this weather.”

Ivana grimaced, rubbing her hands. “I can’t do very much at my age. My hands hurt all the time. So does my back. These young girls, now, they work very hard.”

“Thousands of people abandoned their jobs and homes during the past few months to get away from Moscow,” said Judy. “Fleeing the Germans long before the battle. Ivana, why didn’t you go then?”

“Yes, yes, those with money or companions or relatives to see all hurried away to the east. I had no means to travel and nowhere to go.”

“What about your family?” Judy asked gently. “Do you have family members in the army?”

“My sons are in the Red Army,” she said quietly, lowering her gaze to the blanket. “I have heard nothing from them for over a year.”

“Where’s your husband?” Jane asked.

“He was taken.” Ivana’s voice was almost a whisper. She lowered her head, hiding her face.

“You don’t mean by the Germans, do you?” Judy whispered slowly.

Ivana shook her head, wiping away tears.

Even Jane understood that the NKVD had taken her husband.

Judy leaned closer to her, still whispering. “Do you know why?”

“No. It was two years ago, when so many were taken. They gave no reason and I have heard nothing.”

Judy nodded.

Jane glanced at the people around them. If they were listening, they were pretending otherwise. However, Ivana had become a liability to them. With her husband arrested, she herself might be under the watch of the secret police. Her neighbors would not befriend her for fear that they, too, would come under the scrutiny of the NKVD.

“Have you been in this work brigade long?” Jane asked. “Staying here?”

“Oh, yes.” Ivana nodded, apparently glad to change the subject. “I’ve been in it for a couple of months. My own building was destroyed by shelling, so I had to come here. But it’s not a bad place. The shelter is good and they always have food here.”

“Do you know most of the people? At least by sight?” Jane leaned closer, too.

“I suppose. I don’t talk to very many people.” She shrugged, embarrassed.

“How about the other work brigades? Do you work alongside others?”

“Sometimes, yes. Not always. Our location each day is different. So long as we dig the ditches, no one cares which brigade we are next to or where we dug the day before.”

Jane turned to Judy. “I want to get Hunter. She might be able to help us locate…our friend.”

“All right,” said Judy. “Good idea. I’ll stay here with Ivana.”

Jane stood up and patiently worked her way over to Hunter. Now that the crowd had finished dinner and had taken their positions for the night, with some of them stretched out to relax, the way was more difficult. It took her a minute or a little more to reach him. He protectively watched her progress.

“Come and meet someone,” she said quickly. “I think she can help us.” She turned to point to Judy and Ivana.

They were gone.