Baikonur Cosmodrome
Kazakhstan
Sasha and the crew pulled up to the gantry in the van. After shaking hands and embracing the driver, they walked to the gantry.
Sergei was first into the elevator, followed by Sasha and the rest. Sergei put his hand on a steel lever mounted on a panel. Tania closed the cage door behind them, and Sergei pushed the lever upward. The elevator began ascending very slowly.
"Here is another wonder of Soviet technology," said Sergei. "We will travel 400,000 miles through the vacuum of space, but we will ascend the first 100 feet using a steel and rubber cage based on a one-hundred year-old design."
"Surely you don't mean it's 100 years old?" asked Yuri.
"I assume the elevator itself is not," said Sergei, "but the technology is identical to its nineteenth century counterpart: a cage attached to cables, turning on a motor, exerting force to transport cargo and passengers up and away from the earth's center of gravity. I say, the elevator isn't one hundred years old, though who knows? Soviet engineers are known for their clever recycling of parts. Maybe some of them are made from melted pre-Revolutionary Russian metal."
Yuri and Katya looked at the steel lever, as though observing every detail.
As they reached the top of the gantry, Sergei slowly pulled the steel lever back to its original position, and the cage slowed down. Finally it stopped, Tanya opened the cage for them and they all filed out.
Sasha stopped at a steel box mounted on the gantry near where it joined with the hatch of the Eleusis Buran. He opened the box , inside of which there was a telephone. He picked up the receiver.
"Hello, Control," he said cheerfully. He looked out across the airfield at the Command and Control building where the launch was coordinated. He waved. "Any special requests today?"
He listened to the answer.
"Very well, thank you," he said and hung up. "During the pre-launch check all systems are confirmed operational. We are at Launch minus 7 hours." They began the walk to the hatch. Sasha arrived first, and entered. He began strapping himself to the pilot's seat. Sergei would fasten the straps on his side which he could not reach. and the others would do the same for each other.
As the rest of the crew followed him inside, he said, "This is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard Eleusis Flight One to the heavens. No alcohol will be served for the duration, but the food is complimentary."
The cosmonauts laughed.
Tanya closed the hatch behind them. Outside, a technician sealed it against space.
Los Angeles
MidTown
Foma walked down Pico toward MacArthur Park. It was a little past noon. Alicia lived on the corner of South Lafayette Park Place and West Sixth, about five blocks west of the park.
He turned right when he got to the park. Vendors sold hot dogs and ice cream from carts. Across the street children played in the grass on the park's edges.
He walked into a grocery store. He went to the counter and watched the clerk turn the page of his sports magazine.
"Hola, Pelon, que tal?" Foma said.
Pelon looked up and grinned. "Foma, man, how you doing? You back with Alicia? Don't leave her again!"
"No, I'm just here on a visit."
Pelon nodded. "Nothing's changed much. City Hall is still run by liars and crooks. And you still better watch out for the Man, cause he's probably wearing a gun, and maybe a badge if he decided to put it on today."
Foma laughed. "You used to say if people would just shut up and do like you did and run your damn store, nobody'd ever have any problems with the Man, or the courts, or anything like that. That still true?"
"You know, Foma, it's truer than I thought. I'm clean and straight as an arrow. And the Law generally leaves me alone. Of course, if somebody gets strongarmed around here or someone steals a purse, the police will come in and ask me if I've seen the guys who did it. But they won't sweat me about it."
"Who could ask for anything more?'
"Damn straight, Foma. This way I'm free to do my thing. And I don't want it any other way."
Pelon folded his magazine on the counter. Now he wore a serious look.
"Is there anything you need?" he asked. "Anything I can do for you?"
Foma lowered his voice. "You know Alicia took up with that Rick guy, right?"
Pelon looked like he swallowed something sour. "Yeah. Guy's a creep. He'll gamble the rent money away if you're not watching him all the time."
"Did you see him around here in the last month or so?"
Pelon shook his head. "No, man. I didn't see him at all."
Pelon paused. "Now, if you went back 2 or 3 months ago, then yeah, he came in here once."
"What did he want?"
"He just picked up a six-pack. He was with some dude I'd never seen before. He had the craziest blonde hair I've ever seen, all in his eyes and reaching down his back, you know? Like a rock star. He was around 35. He looked pretty well set, like he had money. I wondered what he was doing around a bum like Rick. Come to think of it, I don't understand what anyone would be doing around a bum like Rick. So what was Alicia thinking about?"
Foma smiled and shrugged. "You'd have to ask her."
Pelon laughed. "No, thanks. I wouldn't bug her about anything, for anything, anytime, ever. She's one of those people that you always want to stay on their good side, you know?"
Foma nodded. "Yeah, I know. I wouldn't bug her about anything either. At least, not on purpose."
Pelon looked at him. "Come on, man. You know that's not true."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you walked out on her. And Svyeta. And it's not like you did that by accident. You knew that wouldn't just bug her, but she'd be completely upset. So you hurt her on purpose."
"I didn't mean to do that."
"But you did do it."
"It's what happened when I did what I had to do."
"Yeah, you did that and when you did it you hurt her. End of story."
"I never wanted to hurt her."
"But you promised you wouldn't hurt her, and then you went and did."
They were silent.
Foma said, "I've gotta get going. Do you still have the same number?"
"Yeah," said Pelon.
"You don't mind if I call you?"
Pelon shook his head. "No way, man. If you need me I'm right here, like always." He stuck out his right fist. "Friends," he said.
Foma raised his own fist and met Pelon's with it. "Friends," he said. He turned to go. "I'll see you when I see you."
"'Later."
Foma left the store, turned right and kept walking.
December, 1989
New York City
Consulate of the USSR
Lavrov read the latest intelligence about Gureshev and said to the Vice-Counsul, "Comrade Vice-Consul, what the hell? Why don't we just...?"
"Why don't we just shoot him?" demanded Shirapov. "Is that it? Isn't that what you mean to ask, Comrade Lavrov?"
Lavrov said nothing, because it was indeed what he meant to ask, but he felt it was clear he had made some error, and he sincerely did not want to repeat it.
"Because," continued Comrade Vice-Consul Shirapov, "as much as some of us might regret it, we no longer live in Stalin's time, that's why! Because Krushchev wanted to make Soviet successes more palatable to the West by saying, 'Oh look, we no longer shoot enemy spies and traitors now. These days we just give them a Western-looking trial and look! We might not even execute them! They might even get to walk away free as a bird!'"
"That's one reason. The other reason is that Gureshev is not acting alone. There is still too much about his network that we do not know, which may lead to very high levels indeed. Were we to move against Gureshev too soon, we might lose much more than we gain, meaning, we might lose a lot of good people ourselves, in exchange for nothing more than the empty reward of a secondary player like Gureshev."
"Of course, Comrade Vice-Consul. But I can't help feeling very uncomfortable about dealing with him."
"Quite so, Comrade Lavrov. But I ask, for the good of the Soviet people, that you bury your feelings about this until your mission is completed. Gureshev will not escape, but neither must his benefactors and allies.
"And that, as you must realize, is the essence of your mission, and why you must continue in your surveillance of Gureshev."
"Yes, Comrade Vice-Consul."
"Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes, Comrade Vice-Consul."
"Do you have any more questions for me?"
"No, Comrade Vice-Consul."
"Then this discussion is concluded."
Shirapov smiled at Lavrov. "Death to spies," he said.
Lavrov said instantly, "Death to spies."
And Comrade Lavrov left the office.
To Be Continued.