CROSS-CULTURAL EFFECTS / CH. 8:POETRY

EMBASSY OF RUSSIA, ATLANTIS, 11AM, FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST, 2277>

“Yuri, all is well?” Yelena asked.

“They have started the operation.”

“Boys, come,” Yelena called, “Let us ask God to help the doctors.”

“But you don't believe in God, auntie Yelena,” Dimitri said.

“I do now, Dimitri, and so does almost everyone here. Anastasia too.”

“That's nice.”

“Not a secret now?” Viktor, aged six, asked.

“No, Viktor,” Yuri said, “It's not a secret we believe in God from people here.”

“That's good.”

“It is,” Yuri said, looking at these two colleagues who he'd never thought of as at all near God. He'd obviously got a lot to talk to them about.

“Father God,” Yelena prayed, “let Karella's message not be in vain, don't let the hope you've given Natasha and Yuri come to nothing. Show them you are in charge. Build also the faith of Viktor, Dimitri, Petya and even little Sergey. Help them to trust you and come to know you. Keep their feet on right paths, although they live amongst evil people who don't believe in you.”

“Thank you, God, that Yelena's not an evil people now, God,” Viktor said, “and make mummy better.”

Yuri prayed too, and thanked God that he had two more people he could share the truth with.

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EMBASSY OF RUSSIA, ATLANTIS, NOON. FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST>

“It is all a fake?” Yelena asked.

“Not all. About half of the underlings, the delivery agents and so on are genuine malcontents, but a fair number of customers are fakes. You understand why?”

“Yes.” Yelena said, “You want a plausible organisation, big enough to attract attention, efficient enough to make competition give up and join in for safety in numbers. If all the malcontents work for you, then you can restrain their excesses. It makes sense.”

“I have been a little surprised you didn't spot it, Yelena.”

“I was too involved. I was too convinced we'd actually tricked our way into the system. It was pride, I guess. But we did actually make a difference too. We did get things done which official channels didn't.”

“Yes. Like you issuing driving licenses.”

“I enjoyed that.”

“You realise that for most black market driving licenses, people just pay extra and don't actually need to prove they can drive.”

“Where's the public good in that? I charged what I thought they could afford, and made sure they could drive safely.”

“I know. And you didn't take bribes to let people pass who couldn't drive. Very unusual. That's why you are a genuinely certified driving test examiner. You do know there were some driving instructors that recommended their normal students to call you?”

“Oh yes. I particularly got instructors passing me nervous girls.”

“Did the students tell you how that worked?”

“Yes, a few. They told their instructor they had the test fee, but not enough for a bribe, and well, you know what some test examiners wanted from pretty girls if they wouldn't double the test fee as a bribe. So, I told them, official test fee plus ten percent, all in cash, no extra bribe, no sexual favours, just prove to me you can drive, and the ten percent extra means you get to crash your car a couple of times and if I think that's just test nerves I'll still pass you.” Yelena laughed, “One actually did, crashed her daddy's car into a lamp post, but since it was to avoid a drunkard who fell into the road and she was shaking like a leaf, I bought her a coffee and then we had another go. Then I gave her an 'accident reported to the police, no fault of driver' form to go with her pass certificate. Oh, and I gave the drunk an on-the spot fine to buy us the coffee and get the car repaired.”

“Lovely story. But how did the driving instructors learn about you in the first place?”

“Oh, well, one of my first clients — he was so nervous I didn't think I wanted to get into the car with him at the wheel — I drove to my old instructor, a lovely calm guy, and asked him if he could fit in half an hour of calming the guy down. Worked a treat.”

“Why did that guy come to you?”

“Oh, you passed him on to me. He needed the whole lot, new name, new address with five years of utility bills, new driving license.”

“Oh, right. One of them. Probably a soldier who grassed up his superior or something like that.”

“Seemed like a nice enough guy, anyway. I just wanted to make a difference, Yuri. Get things done.”

“We do make a difference, the Tsar has been amazed at our efficiency many times. All it takes is people genuinely interested in their work, committed to doing a good job. We're a very healthy organisation, in that respect. No one among us is doing their job just for the salary.”

“All good little anarchists working together for the collective benefit of society. And we were, even though we broke laws left right and centre. I've sworn an oath to turn from my life of crime, General. I fully intend to keep to it. The Mer have very strict views on oaths, and I have been listening to them, trying to get into their thought processes, like I was asked to. I like them.”

“And Anastasia?”

“Anastasia has her new faith and her wonderful knife.”

“Can you explain this knife to me? She said something, but it didn't make much sense to me.”

“It makes her a sort of ambassador. Free to come and go and expect protection, with some kind of diplomatic immunity too. I really don't know what the Mer were thinking when they made the things. Sort of a 'we trust you will only give this to people you trust' thing. It's worth a large fortune. An archivist asked — during her trial, can you believe it? — if she'd consider parting with it for a bucket of 'good gemstones'. This is in the context of Mer gems where each gem is probably worth a house.”

“Is a bucket some standard measure of gems?”

“About ten litres, I think, yes.”

“That's a lot of gems.”

“Yes. So, if she decides to give it up, she presumably comes to the attention of the tax authorities. But the Mer are also planning to ask her for advice.”

“What for?”

“They know they are mostly behind, medically, in many ways. That includes pharmaceutical supplies. They have no desire to be over-charged — ask about what ham was selling for a few months ago, if you want an example of that. They view her knowledge of the black-market as a very useful counter-balance to inflated prices from sales people.”

“Fair enough. So, she can come and go?”

“Not really. She can stay at the embassy, but if she goes she's gone for three years, unless you demote her — the limit from the Mars mess.”

“And you are in the same situation.”

“Yes, except for mercy missions like this morning. Unless they decide we're in a separate category to the military. Which they haven't so far.”

“The case could be made for that.”

“Yes. Secret service isn't the same as military, but on the other hand, politicians and diplomats were excluded too. I'm not sure we count as police, who weren't mentioned, though.”

“Not really. But you should understand your underground activities, (at least what you've been doing with my approval) are legitimate secret service activities, so you've not broken the law.”

“Not even giving driving permits?”

“Not at all. You were acting as a competent officer of the state.”

“That's nice to know. Just so you know, Yuri... Mikhail — our ambassador — and I...”

“Are engaged?”

“Yuri! We're old friends, but we've only just met!”

“Well, you've kept the poor man waiting all these years, Yelena! I'm glad you've met him again.”

“You knew.”

“Of course I knew, Yelena. Svetlana looked into your past in quite some detail, I assure you, before I told you to break into the database and give yourself a rank. How does the poem go? 'Standing tall above corruption...'”

“Is a woman allowed no secrecy? 'Untouched by its slimy claws, See Yelena proud and splendid, radiant in her purity.' And so on. Idealist, wasn't he?”

“You made an impression on him, Yelena. You probably won't ever see his application to join the diplomatic service, but I have, and it made it pretty clear to me that what he learned from you spurred him in that direction.”

“I did that?”

“You did.”

“Oh. Poor guy.”

“So, in an ideal world you ought to be married by now, but maybe you can't stand each other. Try to work it out, and if there's wedding bells we'll try to be wherever it is. Of course, an ambassador's wife has plenty of opportunity for intrigue and interesting trade, so I won't be accepting your resignation.”

Yelena digested that news; she'd thought it was a foregone conclusion she'd be resigning. She decided to change the topic: “Speaking of interesting trade, what do you think of this?” She threw him a disk of crystal.

“Fragile looking table coaster?”

“Feel free to bounce it off the floor.”

“Really?”

“It's mine, bought with my very own money, so you only upset me if it breaks. I've bounced it lots of times.”

He obeyed. It rang with a complex but pleasant note. “Interesting.”

“Hand made Mer craftsmanship. Heat resistant, drop-resistant, insulating, elegant. Wipe clean or put in the dish-washer. What would you give me for a matching set of six coasters, six place mats and two larger serving mats?”

“Hmm. I imagine they'd last a long time?”

“I'd have thought so. It's what their towers are built of. Diamond doesn't really touch it.”

“It just so happens Natasha has been looking at place mats. The good ones are not very cheap.”

“Name me a price.”

“The whole set? Carved like this, I'm sure you'd get five to ten thousand rubles.” about a month's rent for a student in a shared house.

“Oh good, we agree. I've been teaching some Russian to some Mer, and I've set the price as a hand-crafted place-mat set per ten hours of lessons, per student.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Why do they want to learn Russian?”

“Mer like learning languages, and they're thinking business opportunities.”

“Business opportunities. Oh lovely. You realise that ship we came in means absolute air-superiority if they make enough of them?”

“Don't worry, they probably will. Zelda's very happy with hers, at least. Upsetting the Merfolk as though they were some small land state was a bad idea, Yuri. Their technology is a long way ahead of ours.”

“The Tsar is aware of that.”

“Is he also aware of quite what their Queen can find out?”

“I'm sure he's read about people with the gift. But they stay out of politics.”

“On land. Attitudes here are different. Karella is used to using her gift to check up on her people and make sure crimes are not happening. She coordinated the enforcement of the exclusion zone when Atlantis first moved, and she coordinated the raid on the six of us — five teams hit us in a strike coordinated to less than a second. When she heard Anastasia and I had become a Christians and heard our court testimonies, she decided you might not be such a bad man and might worry. That night — two nights ago - she worked out you were married and Natasha was expecting, where you slept, how many children you had, and that this ought to be Natasha's last pregnancy. Before I called my mother yesterday, she asked me if I thought you'd find it scary to have someone from their embassy hand-delivering you a message along with gifts to the boys. She told me what I've just listed, plus that you were in a meeting, Sergey — she didn't actually name him — was was practising in a play, Natasha was watching him, and that people were trying not to laugh at the mistakes that were being made. All that, just to prove to me and Anastasia that her gift was real. Then she told me I could guess where my mother was but she wasn't going to tell Mikhail. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“She decided to find out a lot about our operation.”

“She decided to tell us she'd found out a lot about our operation. She didn't say who you were meeting with, but I'm sure she knows. She told us she'd found out your exact rank, but didn't share that but did conclude that the Tsar knew your name and what we were doing. And when I guessed we were subverting subversive elements, she didn't disagree, but did disagree that us coming here had been a total disaster in every respect.”

“Oh? What didn't go wrong?”

“She thought you and your wife would be happy we'd turned to God.”

“She was right.”

“Is there anything I've just said that the Tsar doesn't know?”

“He doesn't know Natasha knows your mother, as far as I know. He did attend our wedding.”

“Nine years ago?”

“Yes. Two days after Svetlana's funeral. She said it was necessary.”

“My... my path to redemption, Yuri, I told the trial about Svetlana's cancer, and about forging her signature. They didn't condemn me but I fully expected them to. I thought it was my death sentence.”

Yuri closed his eyes, “It wasn't your decision.”

“It was, and you know it. But they recognised the ethical dilemma, to potentially save a life at the cost of a potential life. They did not condemn our joint decision. But I think that might be why Karella checked on Natasha.”

“The doctor in St Petersburg told me there was no hope. Here, they said they will do what they can, and pray.”

“How slim is the hope?”

“They said they would know better when the operation was over. Can we pray more?”

“Of course.”

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EMBASSY OF RUSSIA, ATLANTIS, 3PM, FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST

“Yes, Mikhail?” Yelena asked. He'd been hovering for a while, looking nervous, “what is it?”

“Sorry,”

“For what?”

“Upsetting you.”

“You haven't upset me in a long time,”

“Sorry. It's just... you said I wrote bad poetry for you? I don't remember writing any love poems to you.”

“I was teasing. You wrote me a very complementary poem.”

“I don't remember it.”

“You don't? I framed it. 'Standing tall above corruption, untouched by its slimy claws, See Yelena, proud and splendid, radiant in her purity.' Still no memories?”

“Yes. Oh wow, yes. It was for class, wasn't it? You actually still have it?”

“I do. It's on the wall at home. I'd forgotten it was for class.”

“Write a poem about someone who will be famous,” he remembered, “lauding the traits that granted them fame.”

“Oh! Memories coming back. Did I really write one about you?”

“Yes, you did,” he said, shyly.

“I don't remember what I wrote.”

“I saved it, I'd totally forgotten I wrote one for you,” he checked on his wrist unit. “'Persistent moth, trailing smoke, returning to the flame.

Heedless of the danger looming, heedless of the future pain.

Clings to hope beyond endurance, making jokes and keeping sane.

Ever hopeful and persistent, calm in trouble, balm in pain,

Mikhail fights beyond his limits, ignores the risks, to others clear,

battles on with by pure persistence, never losing hope.

He reaches the victory flame.'”

“That's quite... Why would you want to keep that?” she was appalled at what she'd written.

“It's about persistence. That's my defining characteristic, I guess.”

“But it's about persistence turning you into a martyr!”

“But winning! That's the thing. I took it as a sign you wanted me to carry on being persistent.”

“I do. Do carry on being persistent, Misha, but please know when to stand away from the flame a bit until it won't kill you.”

“Are you warning me off again?” he asked, heart in his mouth.

“I have no desire to hurt you, Misha,”

“And you think you will if I get close?”

“I hope not. I hope my flame of spite has burned itself out.”

“Then, what are you saying?”

“I'm saying I don't want you living by my 'martyr yourself for me' poem. I'm not worth that. I've wounded you enough, surely?”

“I think you're worth a lot to me, Lena.”

“We need to talk more before you go making silly declarations like that, Misha.”

“Silly?”

“Well, premature, anyway. Just because half the people we run into are thinking wedding bells, we don't need to leap to the same conclusion. Like Yuri said, maybe in an ideal world we ought to be married by now, but maybe we can't stand each other.”

“Yuri said we ought to be married?”

“He read your diplomatic service application. You said something about me, apparently. And he knew I had that poem on my wall. Not that I knew that.”

“You didn't know that he knew that you had a poem on your wall?”

“Exactly.”

“What a confusing world you live in.”

“Did you know why the council hardly have any holding cells?”

“Not much crime?”

“Well, that too, but the Council normally declare the sentence within an hour. What conclusions would you like to draw?”

“You're a complicated case?”

“Not that complicated. Guess again.”

“Everyone's going ahhh old classmates, making eyes at each other during her trial...”

“Passing notes... Interrupting court proceedings... Karella said something about being concerned about you being lonely.”

“Well, yes.”

“So, they're all convinced we need time together, so why are we wasting it?”

“I thought you were telling me not to get involved with you.”

“No, I was saying I've burned you enough. I don't want to hurt you again.”

“Why do you assume you're going to?”

“Past record?”

“You mean you've left a trail of broken hearted men in your wake?”

“I broke yours often enough, didn't I?”

“No, you were just telling me to try harder.”

“That's how you took it?”

“Armed with that poem? Absolutely.”

“What did happen to you after school?”

“I went to university. In Vladivostok.”

“Vladivostok?”

“Yes. It made getting home for holidays quite difficult.”

“I imagine. Why there?”

“To see if I could persist there too. And it was cheaper than at home, and it is a diplomatic centre.”

“Wow.”

“And I wanted to impress you with good grades and all the rest. I got them, but I couldn't find out what had happened to you. You'd vanished.”

“I'd joined Yuri's little band of trouble-makers.”

“Yes. I made some enquiries around the imperial university when I was working on my doctorate, and people all seemed to get quite scared.”

“Hold on, your doctorate?”

“Yes. PhD in international relations.”

“I'm impressed, Misha. From the imperial university?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

“Then, after I'd spent the next seven years as a relative nobody in the diplomatic service, I suddenly found myself being invited to a meeting with the Tsar and then I was sent here. I don't know if it was because I'd become a Christian at university, or if I'd impressed someone or why.”

“What did the Tsar ask?”

“He asked about my faith, why I thought I'd been in the same filing department for the past years — how do you answer that one? What I thought about the Mer having antimatter bombs under our cities, and so on.”

“What do you think about the antimatter bombs?”

“I said that I thought they'd been quite contrite about it, and we'd played rattling the nuclear sabre enough times that we could hardly claim innocence. I also said that since they were planning to bring them back to the city here I guessed that they weren't worried about them going bang by accident, so I was more worried that someone might break Atlantis' dome and set them off that way than about the devices themselves.”

“What did he think about that?”

“He said something like I wouldn't win very many new friends among his generals with that attitude, but I might win friends in Atlantis, and that was my job now.”

“New friends?” Yelena asked.

“I must have impressed someone. I don't know who.”

“What did you put in your application form?”

“I guess what got his attention was me quoting your poem about be being persistent beyond what others would call the point of reason.”

“You named me?”

“I can't honestly remember.”

“Oh well. What did you say about the filing department?”

“Oh, I made some joke about not being able to complain if my superiors wanted to test my claim to be persistent.”

“You actually made a joke to the Tsar?” Yelena asked.

“Yes.”

“Did he laugh?”

“Yes. And my head didn't fall off.”

It had been a running joke at school, that one day Mikhail would crack a joke to the Tsar, and lose his head for the impertinence. “So, when are you planning to make me laugh,”

“Every night, between the setting of the moon and the rising of the sun.”

“Urm... why?”

In English, he answered “Because that's the darkest time of night, and your laugh lights up the world. And it's also the time for owls, and I need all the help I can get if I must go to wit, to woo you.”

Yelena looked at him steadily for a full fifteen seconds, in pretend disdain, then she couldn't hold in the laughter any longer, and dissolved in giggles.

“You didn't like it,” he said, crestfallen.

“I doooo, tooooo,” she replied, also in English, owl fashion. “and you, toooo. I like youuu toooo. Oh, Misha, I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too, Lena. But you didn't laugh at first.”

“Sorry. Bad habit I need to break, Misha tells a joke and you see how long you can avoid laughing. I think it started as self defence, you realise.”

“Self defence?”

“Misha, no one has ever been able to make me laugh like you can, no one has ever been able to match up to you in all manner of ways. If I couldn't pour scorn on your most endearing characteristics then I'd have to admit I fell in love with you at least a year before we left school. And you were just so spotty, and gangly, and all those other stupid external things that are supposed to be important when you're a teenager.”

“You... you were in love with me at school?” he asked.

“I was fighting it tooth and nail, because of spots, and you not worrying if you didn't get perfect grades and things like that, but yes. I'm quite sure I was. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I kept pushing you away, and then not liking it when you paid attention to anyone else. I'm sure I spread all sorts of nasty rumours about you. I had this dream, you see, that I'd keep everyone else away from you, and then we'd meet up after a term or two at university and you'd have developed some muscles and lost your spots and you'd ask me to marry you and I'd fall into your arms and say of course I would, and people would ask about the nasty rumours and I'd say 'I made them all up to keep him for myself.' I'm very very sorry for being such a self-centred person, Misha. I hope I've changed.”

“Lena, there was never anyone else to keep away.”

“And since?”

“I had this ideal woman in my mind, untouched by corruption's claws, and no one ever ever got close.”

“Oh, silly Misha,” she said as warmly as she could, “You idolized your image of me, didn't you? No one can live up to an idol.”

“I don't know if I did or not. I just know no one's come close.”

“We're going to disappoint each other aren't we? Discovering that our idols don't match reality.”

“I don't want to idolize anyone. And I think I remember the odd scratch from your thorns, even if you're my perfect rose. But surely you must have had suitors?”

“The thing is, living around anarchists, you get to see some lovely examples of pure narcissism, and you get to see how people try to manipulate each other, and you see how some people decide to break taboos just for the fun of it and then find the taboos are there for a reason, and you think yuck, I don't trust many of these people at all, let alone when I'm asleep. And a woman takes to sleeping with her door locked and a knife under her pillow. And I had this image of a very trustworthy, kind, persistent man, with hardly a selfish bone in his body. And comparing one with the other, when one of the anarchists tried chatting me up, I thought I'd rather die a virgin than let someone like enact his fantasies on me, especially while there's still someone called Mikhail Aleksandrovich alive somewhere, even if he's married by now or only alive in my memory.”

“Did silly Lena idolize me too, then?”

“I don't know. I know it would have been a big mistake to fall for any of them.”

“Lena, you've confused me. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, Misha, of course.”

“You keep saying you don't want to hurt me, but it doesn't sound like you want to at all. Why do you think you might hurt me?”

“Don't you think rushing towards marriage just because of what we felt almost half a life-time ago might end up with you getting hurt? Don't ask me to marry you until you're really ready for it, Misha. I'm not going to refuse you again. I made a vow to God not to at the end of my first year at university. And ask your neighbours, an oath must be kept.”

“You mean... If I asked now you'd say yes?”

“I took an oath. If you ask, I won't refuse. I'll probably call you some names, but I won't refuse you.”

“Lena, that's silly. And telling me is probably even sillier.”

“No it's not. You now know not to ask lightly.”

“But I made you a promise, if you remember.”

“You did? What was that?”

“That I'd ask you again when we met.”

“I'd forgotten. But a promise isn't quite the same as a vow. I won't hold you to it, Misha, not if you decide you shouldn't ask.”

“What about you deciding we shouldn't marry?”

“The day before yesterday, I thought I was going to be dead. Then you walked into the courtroom, and I'm still alive. I'm happy to put my future in your hands, Misha.”

“You can't claim I'm the only reason you weren't executed.”

“OK, I won't say that,” she grinned up at him. He was sure she meant exactly what she'd said, but that she was going to keep on thinking it. He so wanted to kiss her.

“Yelena, please don't make me responsible for our future happiness or misery. Don't leave it all up to me. I know you've got a good mind. Don't pretend it's empty of thought.”

“But it is Misha. Except for unhelpful ones like 'Misha's here, we're alone and it sounds like he's in love with me still, maybe I'll get kisses, that'd be nice.' and 'Will Karella let my parents come for our wedding?' and 'How long will it be before Misha gives me a hug?' and 'is this what being in love is like?'”

“Yelena, will you promise me something? “, he asked. Taking her hands seemed a very natural thing to do, and he did.

“What's that?”

“That if I ask you too soon you'll tell me? That's not the same as refusing.”

“Yes it is. If I say it's too soon and then you don't ask again, then it would be exactly like refusing, and I'm going to kick myself the rest of my life for not saying yes.”

“Why would I not ask you again?”

“You might decide we shouldn't marry, that you don't want someone like me beside you, breaking into databases and forging documents and giving you diplomatic incidents to solve.”

“You often forge documents, then?” he asked, still holding her hands, but taking a step away to look at her face better.

“Sort of. Yuri just took a lot of the fun out of it by telling me they weren't really forgeries. No, sorry, let me get it right. He told me that I wasn't breaking any laws making them. I guess that's different.”

“Can you explain what you did, and why?”

“On one condition,”

“What's that?”

She turned, so her back was towards him and his arms were around her waist. “I don't need to drop any more hints about wanting hugs and kisses.”