Number One snorted, but said nothing.
Kardelj said jovially, "Tomorrow the announcements will go out to
every man, woman and child in the People's Democratic Dictatorship.
Your word is law. You are answerable only to Comrade Jankez and
myself. No restrictions whatsoever apply to you. No laws. No
regulations. We will give you identification which all will recognize,
and the bearer of which can do no wrong."
Josip was flabbergasted. "But ... but suppose I come up against some ...
well, someone high in the Party, or, well ... some general or admiral?
Some--"
Kardelj said jocularly, "You answer only to us, Comrade Pekic. Your
power is limitless. Comrade Jankez did not exaggerate. Frankly, were
cold statistics enough, Transbalkania has already at long last
overtaken the West in per capita production. Steel, agriculture, the
tonnage of coal mined, of petroleum pumped. All these supposed
indications of prosperity." He flung up his hands again in his
semihumorous gesture of despair. "But all these things do not mesh. We
cannot find such a simple matter as ... as eyebrow pencils in our
stores, nor can we be served acceptably in our restaurants and hotels.
Each man passes the buck, as the Yankees say, and no man can care less
whether or not school keeps. No man wants responsibility."
Josip was aghast, all over again. "But ... but me ... only me. What
could you expect a single person to do?"
"Don't misunderstand, Comrade," Kardelj told him with amused
compassion. "You are but an experiment. If it works out, we will seek
others who are also deemed potential expediters to do similar work.
Now, are there any further questions?"
Josip Pekic stared miserably back and forth between the two, wondering
wildly what they would say if he turned the whole thing down. His eyes
lit on the dour, heavy Number One, and inwardly he shook his head. No.
There was no question about that. You didn't turn down Zoran Jankez.
He looked at Aleksander Kardelj, and in spite of the other's smiling
face, he decided you didn't turn down Number Two, either.
Josip said carefully, "From what you say, I ... I can override anyone
in Transbalkania, except yourselves. But ... but what if I antagonize
one of you? You know ... with something I think I find wrong?"
The second in command of the Party chuckled, even as he fitted a fresh
cigarette into his curved holder. "We've provided even for that,
Comrade. Fifty thousand Common Europe francs have been deposited to
your account in Switzerland. At any time you feel your revelations
might endanger yourself, you are free to leave the country and achieve
sanctuary abroad." He chuckled whimsically again. "Given the position
you will occupy, a man above all law, with the whole of the nation's
resources at his disposal, I cannot imagine you wishing to leave. The
Swiss deposit is merely to give you complete confidence, complete
security."
* * * * *
Number One was radiating fury as he stalked heavily down the corridors
of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. On the surface, his face
displayed nothing--which meant nothing. There was simply a raging aura
of trouble.
Veljko Gosnjak, posted with one other before the office of Aleksander
Kardelj, winced when he saw the Party head approaching. He muttered
from the side of his mouth, "Watch out. He's on a rampage. In this
mood, he'd as well set you to filling salt shakers in the Nairebis
mines as...."
But Zoran Jankez was now near enough that he might hear, and Veljko
Gosnjak cut himself off abruptly and came to even stiffer attention.
Number One ignored them both and pushed on through the door.
Even as his right-hand man looked up from his work, Jankez was
growling ominously. "Do you know the latest from that brain-wave
experiment?"
Kardelj was close enough to the other personally to at least pretend
lack of awe. He grinned and said, "You mean young Josip? Sit down,
Zoran. A drink?"
The Number Two Party man swiveled slightly and punched out a code on a
series of buttons. Almost immediately, an area of approximately one
square foot sank down from the upper right-hand corner of his desk, to
rise again bearing two chilled glasses.
Jankez snorted his anger but took up one of the glasses. "These
everlasting gadgets from the West," he growled. "One of these days,
this confounded desk of yours will give you an electric shock that
will set me to looking for a new assistant." He threw the contents of
the glass back over his palate. "If I don't start looking before that
time," he added ominously.
However, he savored the drink, then put down the glass, pursed his
lips and rumbled, "Where do you get this excellent slivovka,
Aleksander?"
Kardelj sipped part of his own drink. He said lightly, "That is the
only secret I keep from you, Zoran. However, I will give you this
hint. Its proper name is sljivovica, rather than slivovka. It does
not come from Slovenia. I am afraid, once you know its origin, I will
no longer be of use to you."