"And your friend?"
"She is that, a friend."
"You shouldn't have brought her. What do you think this is, a circus?"
"It's a private affair. She's harmless."
"I'll summon the guards and have her removed."
"Yes? To whom do you think the guards owe their first allegiance?"
A white-smocked figure turned to look at the newcomers. "Please,
Comrades. Let's have none of this squabbling. Stalin wants to talk with
us."
"We'll settle this later," grumbled Malenkov.
"There is nothing to settle," said Chenkov, standing his ground.
Malenkov growled, but looked again at the brain floating in its case.
The white-smocked figure adjusted some dials on a table nearby. On
the wall behind the glass enclosed brain, a microphone-speaker blared
metallically:
"Are they both here? Malenkov and Chenkov, both of them?"
"Yes," said Zhubin. "Yes, Comrade Stalin. They are here."
"You now know that I live," said the brain. "It is a strange new life
I have, but I can think--perhaps more clearly than would otherwise be
possible, for I have no body to encumber me. Before I go on, do you
have any questions?"
Malenkov blinked his fat-enveloped eyes. Chenkov stared.
"Very well. The day my body died, a quick operation removed the brain
and preserved it. Comrade Zhubin--working under the direction of a man
you've only seen once or twice--transferred the brain, my brain exactly
as it was in life so that when I speak you will know it is Stalin, the
Man of Iron, talking, into this case. I have since conferred with the
man who made the operation possible, the man who can do great things
for Mother Russia, and because talking tires me in some strange way and
he knows the situation more completely at this time than I do, I want
you to listen to him as if it were I, Stalin, talking."
There was a silence. The half dozen figures still stood around the
brain case, but one of them turned slowly around to look at all the
earnest faces. His eyes raked Laniq. "A woman?" he said, incredulously,
and his eyes wandered, then darted back. "Laniq Hadrien!" he cried.
"Who brought this woman here? Fools! Speak!"
"It was Chenkov," fat Malenkov said spitefully.
"Is that true?" the man demanded.