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By Root 392 0

as if he'd fallen through a hole in the ground. And that, my friends, is a very bad sign. If the word's going round all the cafes even before mobilisation is officially announced and every shirker has a chance to dodge it, then things are really bad. Ah, the fool - if only he had allowed us to form units manned by Russian officers back in April, we could have taken Moscow by now. Don't you see? Here in the City alone he could have had a volunteer army of fifty thousand men-and what an army! An elite, none but the very best, because all the officer-cadets, all the students and high school boys and all the officers - and there are thousands of them in the City - would have gladly joined up. Not only would we have chased Petlyura out of the Ukraine, but we would have reached Moscow by now and swatted Trotsky like a fly. Now would have been the time to attack Moscow - it seems they're reduced to eating cats. And Hetman Skoropodsky, the son of a bitch, could have saved Russia.'

Turbin's face was blotchy and the words flew out of his mouth in a thin spray of saliva. His eyes burned.

'Hey, you shouldn't be a doctor - you should be the Minister of Defense, and that's a fact', said Karas. He was smiling ironically, but Turbin's speech had pleased him and excited him.

'Alexei is indispensable at meetings, he's a real orator', said N'ikolka.

'Nikolka, I've told you twice already that you're not funny', his brother replied. 'Drink some wine instead of trying to be witty.'

'But you must realise,' said Karas, 'that the Germans would never have allowed the formation of a loyalist army - they're too afraid of it.'

'Wrong!' exclaimed Alexei sharply. 'All that was needed was someone with a good head on his shoulders and we could have always come to terms with the Hetman. Then we should have made it clear to the Germans that we were no threat to them. That war is over, and we have lost it. Now we have something much worse on our hands, much worse than the war, worse than the Germans, worse than anything on earth - and that is Trotsky. We should have said to the Germans - you need wheat and sugar, don't you? Right - take all you want and feed your troops. Occupy the Ukraine if you like, only help us. Let us form our army - it will be to your advantage, we'll help you to keep order in the Ukraine and prevent these God-forsaken peasants of ours from catching the Moscow disease. If there were a Russian-manned army in the City now we would be insulated from Moscow by a wall of steel. And as for Petlyura . . . k-khh ...' Turbin drew his finger expressively across his throat and was seized by a furious coughing fit.

'Stop!' Shervinsky stood up. 'Wait. I must speak in defense of the Hetman. I admit some mistakes were made, but the Hetman's plan was fundamentally correct. He knows how to be diplomatic. First of all a Ukrainian state ... then the Hetman would have done exactly as you say - a Russian-manned army and no nonsense. And to prove that I'm right ...' - Shervinsky gestured solemnly toward the window - ' the Imperial tricolor flag is already flying over Vladimirskaya Street.'

'Too late!'

'Well, yes, you may be right. It is rather late, but the Hetman is convinced that the mistake can be rectified.'

'I sincerely hope to God that it can', and Alexei Turbin crossed himself in the direction of the ikon of the Virgin in the corner of the room.

'Now the plan was as follows,' Shervinsky announced solemnly. 'Once the war was over the Germans would have recovered, and turned to help us against the Bolsheviks. Then when Moscow was captured, the Hetman would have laid the allegiance of the Ukraine at the feet of His Majesty the Emperor Nicholas II.'

At this remark a deathly silence fell on the room. Nikolka turned white with agony.

'But the Emperor is dead', he whispered.

'What d'you mean - Nicholas II?' asked Alexei Turbin in astunned voice, and Myshlaevsky, swaying, squinted drunkenly into Shervinsky's glass. Obviously Shervinsky had had one too many to keep his courage up.

Leaning her head on one hand, Elena stared in horror at him.