The other brushed aside trivialities. Looking at him more closely,
Hank could see he was older than first estimate. Possibly twenty-two
or so. Darker than most of the others, heavy-set, sharp and impatient.
"You can call me Georgi," he said. "These others will prevent
outsiders from bothering us. Now then, we've been told you Americans
want some assistance. What? And why should we give it to you?"
Hank said, worriedly, "Haven't you some place we could go? Where I
could meet one of your higher-ups? This is important."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be here," Georgi said impatiently. "For that
matter there is no higher-up. We don't have ranks; we're a working
democracy. And I'm afraid the day of the secret room in some cellar is
past. With housing what it is, if there was an empty cellar in Moscow
a family would move in. And remember, all buildings are State owned
and operated. I'm afraid you'll have to tell your story here. Now,
what is it you want?"
"I want an opportunity to meet the Galactic Confederation emissaries."
"Why?"
"To give them our side, the Western side, of the ... well, the
controversy between us and the Soviet complex. We want an opportunity
to have our say before they make any permanent treaties."
Georgi considered that. "We thought it was probably something
similar," he muttered. "What do you think it will accomplish?"
"At least a delaying action. If the extraterrestrials throw their
weight, their scientific progress, into the balance on the side of the
Soviet complex, the West will have lost the cold war. Every neutral in
the world will jump on the bandwagon. International trade, sources of
raw materials, will be a thing of the past. Without a shot being
fired, we'd become second-rate powers overnight."
Georgi said nothing for a long moment. A new youngster had drifted up
to the group but one of those on the outskirts growled something at
him and he went off again. Evidently, Hank decided, all of this
dozen-odd cluster of youngsters were connected with the jet-set
underground.
"All right, you want us to help you in the conflict between the Soviet
government and the West," Georgi said. "Why should we?"
Hank frowned at him. "You're the anti-government movement. You're
revolutionists and want to overthrow the Soviet government."
The other said impatiently, "Don't read something into our
organization that isn't here. We don't exist for your benefit, but our
own."
"But you wish to overthrow the Soviets and establish a democratic--"
Georgi was waggling an impatient hand. "That word democratic has been
so misused this past half century that it's become all but
meaningless. Look here, we wish to overthrow the present Soviet
government, but that doesn't mean we expect to establish one modeled
to yours. We're Russians. Our problems are Russian ones. Most of them
you aren't familiar with--any more than we're familiar with your
American ones."
"However, you want to destroy the Soviets," Hank pursued.
"Yes," Georgi growled, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that we wish
_you_ to win this cold war, as the term goes. That is, just because
we're opposed to the Soviet government doesn't mean we like yours. But
you make a point. If the Galactic Confederation gives all-out support
to the Soviet bureaucracy it might strengthen it to the point where
they could remain in office indefinitely."
* * * * *