Russka - Edward Rutherfurd [365]
His face became stony. ‘Young people should speak of things they understand,’ he stated with dry scorn. ‘Like making rhymes,’ he added bitterly. And he shifted his chair so that Sergei was presented with his back. Then, looking about for someone trustworthy, he remarked to Pinegin: ‘If all the empire were governed like a military colony, things would be a lot more efficient.’ To which Pinegin quietly bowed his head.
It was time to end the discussion – and end it quickly. Olga glanced round, wondering what to do. She signalled to her mother, who nodded, remarked placidly – ‘Well, well, this has all been very pleasant’ – and made as if to rise. But before she could do so, Sergei’s voice cut through the air.
‘You’re surely not suggesting, Alexis, that the military are efficient?’
Why, oh why, could he not for once keep silent? Olga saw a muscle flicker in Alexis’s cheek. But he did not turn. He merely ignored the interruption. Olga began to rise.
‘I said,’ Sergei repeated with an evenness that showed he was now angry, ‘do you believe the military are so efficient?’
In the silence that followed, one might have thought Alexis had not heard. But then he turned to Pinegin again and coolly remarked: ‘I think, my friend, I heard a dog yapping somewhere.’
And Sergei went scarlet. Olga knew then that there was nothing she could do. Sergei exploded. ‘Do you know how our wretched soldiers are taught to shoot a volley?’ he burst out to the whole room. ‘I’ll tell you. All together. Perfect timing. There’s only one problem – they aren’t trained to point at anything. It’s a fact. I’ve seen it. No one minds where they shoot, as long as it’s together. The chances of a Russian volley hitting the enemy are almost nil! But this,’ he sneered contemptuously, ‘is my brother’s military efficiency.’
Alexis had lost his calm now. He seemed about to turn and strike. But it was Pinegin who spoke. Olga had never seen him like this before. He was very quiet, but his eyes glittered, and there was something strangely menacing as he asked: ‘Are you insulting the Russian army?’
‘Oh, much more than that,’ Sergei shot back. ‘I’m criticizing the whole Russian Empire which thinks that by imposing order on the human spirit – no matter how absurd or cruel the order – it has achieved something. I’m criticizing the Tsar and that dog Benckendorff with his idiotic gendarmes and his censorship: I despise your military colonies, where you try to turn children into machines, and the institution of serfdom, which makes one man the chattel of another. And, yes, by all means I’m insulting the army, which is run by the same incompetents who are in charge of this whole vast sea of stupidity and rottenness that is called the Russian Government.’
He turned back to Alexis. ‘Tell me, my efficient brother, how many rounds are Russian soldiers given each year for target practice? How many?’ And when Alexis, too angry for speech, made no reply: ‘I’ll tell you then. Three rounds. Three a year. That’s how your men are trained before you go off to fight the Turk.’ He laughed savagely. ‘And no doubt military organization is just what you are using so effectively to run down this estate – now that it no longer has those Suvorins to prop it up!’
Olga gasped. It seemed that Alexis was about to throw himself upon Sergei. She looked at Pinegin desperately, beseechingly.
And the soldier in his white tunic smiled.
‘Well, Bobrov,’ he remarked with a dry laugh, ‘if your brother had said that to me in our regiment, I suppose I should have had to play target practice with his head. But we won’t mind. Let’s have a game of cards.’ And before Alexis could speak, Pinegin led him firmly away.
Thank God, Olga thought: thank God for Pinegin.
The following morning, Alexis announced that he had to go to Vladimir to see the governor. He expected to be back in a week.
‘Would you stay here,