el.angeleyes-第21部分

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　her　initiative　or　her　innovations。　Up　until　this　moment　of　separation；　she　had　seen　herself　only　in　terms　of　being　her　parents'　daughter　or；　briefly…until　he　had　died　in　a　training　maneuver　accident…her　husband's　wife。　But　something　inside　her　had　always　whispered；　Is　this　the　sum　of　what　life　is？　Can　this　be　all　there　is　to　Irina　Viktorovna　Ponomareva？　Now　she　knew　the　answer；　just　as　Valeri　had　known。　There　was　another　Irina；　independent；　in　control；　yearning　to　be　free。　And　at　the　moment　of　her　triumph；　when　she　knew　that　she　had　caused　Mars　Volkov　to　bee　enamored　of　her；　to　desire　her　beyond　all　other　women；　she　had　at　last　caught　the　first　glimpse　of　her　own　true　worth。　And　she　knew　with　an　immense　thrill　that　the　real　Irina　Viktorovna　Ponomareva　was　just　beginning　to　be　defined。
　Mars　had　been　elected　to　represent　Moscow　in　the　Congress；　a　signal　honor。　His　constituency　included　the　Soviet　Baseball　Federation；　as　well　as　Zvezdny　Gorodok；　Star　Town；　the　city　built　to　house　and　train　the　Soviet　cosmonauts。　He　had　been　one　of　the　main　architects　of　the　space　program　for　some　years；　which；　Irina　supposed；　was　why　he　had　been　chosen　to　help　build　the　national　baseball　team。
　Irina　thought　that　Valeri　had　good　reason　to　fear　Mars。　Their　views　differed　in　quite　fundamental　ways；　and　Mars　was　in　every　sense　a　charismatic　figure。　In　America　this　talent　would　have　caused　Mars　to　go　far　in　whatever　field　he　chose；　but　this　was　Russia；　and　charisma　was　looked　upon　with　a　good　amount　of　suspicion。
　Where　Valeri　held　sway　through　the　sheer　force　of　his　personality；　Mars　charmed　people。　While　Valeri　easily　forced　other　wills　to　bend　to　his；　Mars　had　to　struggle　for　every　inch　of　political　ground　gained。　He　was；　he　said；　always　fighting　against　other　people's　innate　fear　of　Valeri　Bondasenko。　〃I　feel　like　a　salmon；〃　he　told　Irina　that　night　when　she　asked　him　why　he　had　not　eaten　the　meal　she　prepared　for　him。　〃Always　swimming　upstream。　Valeri　Denysovich　will　beat　me；　despite　all　my　efforts；　just　as　he　has　beaten　everyone　else。〃　He　looked　up　at　her　with　a　weary　smile。　〃They　say　that　beneath　the　Kremlin　there　is　a　pile　of　bones　that　is　all　that　remains　of　his　enemies。''
　〃Defeatist　talk；〃　she　said。
　〃Tonight；〃　Mars　said；　〃I　feel　like　the　defeated。〃
　〃Tomorrow…〃
　〃Tomorrow　will　be　different；　yes？　That　was　what　you　were　going　to　say；　Irina；　wasn't　it？〃　He　shrugged。　〃Well；　who　knows；　perhaps　you're　right。〃
　She　sat　down　beside　him；　took　his　hand。　〃Tell　me　what　happened。〃
　〃No。　It's　too　boring…and　too　depressing。　And　I've　had　enough　of　gloom　for　one　evening。　Let's　go　out；　have　dinner；　get　drunk　on　pepper　vodka。〃
　They　did。　Irina　let　him　do　all　the　talking。　He　seemed　in　the　mood　to　do　so；　and　she　wanted　to　get　to　know　him　better。　When　he　spoke；　she　was　a　student；　soaking　up　information…the　bits　and　pieces　of　his　life…as　if　she　were　studying　for　a　final　exam。
　He　told　her　about　his　parents；　who　still　lived　in　Moscow　and　whom　he　visited　every　Sunday；　bringing　them　treats…tins　of　caviar；　fresh　Baltic　herring…things　they　would　never　buy　for　themselves。　He　told　her　about　his　brother；　who　had　died；　and　his　sister；　who　was　married　with　three　children。　〃Sometimes；〃　he　said；　refilling　their　glasses　with　vodka；　''I　think　that　my　sister　is　the　lucky　one。　She　lives　a　simple；　unplicated　life；　and　her　worries　are　small　ones；　mon　ones；　not　so　much　to　bear。　She　had　a　little　trouble　with　the　last　baby；　it　was　born　with　a　heart　murmur；　but　the　child　is　fine　now。　She　lives　under　the　signs　of　love；　of　contentment；　of　the　family。　These　are　everything　to　her；　without　them；　she　is　lost。〃
　Later；　he　said；　〃You　know；　it's　funny　about　my　sister。　We　weren't　close　when　the　three　of　us　were　growing　up。　My　brother　and　I　were　inseparable；　and　she　was；　well；　an　outsider；　I　suppose。　The　enemy。　We　never　confided　in　her　for　fear　that　she　would　pass　on　our　secrets　to　our　mother。　Imagine　my　surprise　when；　years　later　at　my　brother's　funeral；　she　recounted　our　boyhood　secrets。　She　had　known　them　all　the　time　because　she　was　far　smarter　than　either　of　us　boys　had　been。　And　she　had　kept　them　to　herself。　Our　secrets　had　been　sacred　to　her；　even　though　we　excluded　her　from　everything　we　did；　even　though　we　teased　her　and　made　fun　of　her。　Now　we're　very　close。　I　have　e　to　cherish　our　time　together；　because　she　is　the　one　oasis　of　sanity　in　my　insane　world。　Her　love　of　the　prosaic…this　country；　her　children　who　will　one　day　join　the　party；　make　their　contribution　to　the　Soviet　way　of　life…constantly　reminds　me　of　the　importance　of　what　I　am　trying　to　acplish。''
　Irina　wanted　to　ask　Mars　just　what　that　was；　but　she　downed　more　pepper　vodka　instead。　She　already　had；　like　a　professional；　an　instinct　for　when　to　ask　questions　and　when　to　keep　her　mouth　shut。　The　same　instinct　made　for　great　military　manders：　the　need　to　attack　had　to　be　tempered　with　the　necessities　of　parrying　and　of　retreat；　not　only　to　cut　losses；　but　to　avoid　casualties　altogether。
　Attack　meant；　by　definition；　exposure；　and　Irina　did　not　think　that　the　time　had　e　for　her　to　take　that　risk。　Mars　was　not　vulnerable　enough；　he　was　still　watchful；　too　much　in　control；　despite　the　vodka。　his　cheeks　might　be　flushed；　his　eyes　over…bright；　but　she　could　feel　beneath　it　that　his　mind　continued　to　function　unimpaired。
　Such　was　not　the　case　by　the　time　they　returned　to　Mars's　apartment。　The　vodka　had　had　time　to　saturate　his　entire　system；　and　his　libido　had　usurped　control　from　his　mind。
　As　usual；　he　made　love　at　the　approximate　speed　of　an　express　train；　as　if　he　could　not　wait　to　get　to　the　conclusion；　or　in　some　secret　way；　could　not　abide　the　pleasure　he　derived　from　it。　From　the　beginning　of　their　relationship；　Irina　had　felt　this　odd　in　a　man　who　obviously　felt　deeply；　a　patriot　who；　as　far　as　she　could　see；　was　far　more　straightforward　than　Valeri。　In　any　case；　whether　it　was　his　abrupt　manner　in　bed　or　something　inside　herself；　she　could　not　bring　herself　to　fulfillment　with　Mars。　Instead　she　acted；　somehow　feeling　more　ashamed　of　this　fakery　than　the　more　purely　mental　exercise　of　making　him　care　for　her。　One　was　akin　to　being　up　on　a　stage；　making　an　audience　（of　one）　react；　the　other　was　much　more　intimate。
　And；　as　usual；　in　the　cool　aftermath　as　he　slipped　out　of　her；　she　felt　sadder；　even　more　isolated；　than　she　had　before。　She　had　an　image　of　herself：　a　tropical　fish　swimming　around　and　around　a　glass　bowl。　She　squeezed　her　eyes　shut；　but　the　image　remained。　Around　and　around；　until　she　longed　even　to　feel　dizzy；　so　that　the　emptiness　would　go　away。
　Afterward；　Mars　chain…smoked　black　Turkish　cigarettes　and　drank　black　Turkish　coffee；　thick　as　honey；　into　which　he　poured　a　finger　of　vodka。　He　sat；　naked；　at　a　hideous　Danish　modern　desk；　all　angles；　blond　wood　and　chrome；　brought　his　goose…neck　lamp　down　close　and　read…through　files　he　brought　home　in　a　battered　leather　attache　case。　If　he　could　work　twenty…four　hours　a　day；　Irina　thought；　he　would。
　His　face　was　half　hidden　by　acrid　smoke；　but　Irina　continued　to　watch　him　as　she　lay　belly　down　on　the　bed。　〃The　only　good　news　I've　had　all　week；〃　Mars　said；　〃is　that　support　for　the　United　States'　resolutions　in　the　U。N。　is　at　an　historic　low。　Perhaps　we　will　be　able　to　isolate　America；　after　all。〃
　Irina；　testing　the　atmosphere；　scented　an　absence　of　defenses。　The　time　seemed　right　to　expose　herself；　and　see　if　he　suspected　anything。　〃Where　is　all　the　bad　news　ing　from？〃　she　said　casually。
　〃From　right　here；〃　Mars　said；　flipping　a　page。　〃Right　here。〃
　Irina　knew　his　files　would　probably　be　of　interest　to　her…that　is　to　say；　to　Valeri…but　she　was　smarter　than　to　try　to　gain　access　to　them。　That　would　be　tantamount　to　suicide。　Irina　yawned。　〃How　do　you　mean？〃
　Mars　closed　the　cover　of　the　file；　raised　his　gaze。　He　regarded　her　for　some　time；　smoking　slowly；　almost　indolently。　Irina　was　afraid　that　he　already　knew　about　her。　But　how　could　he？　It　was　impossible；　she　told　herself。
　Then　Mars　opened　another　file；　began　to　scan　it；　and　Irina　realized　that　he　had　not　been　looking　at　her；　but　through　her。　She　relaxed。
　〃Hafnium。〃
　Irina　blinked。　What　language　was　he　speaking？　〃What？〃　Mars　repeated　the　word　without　looking　up。　〃It's　a　high…tech　metal　used　to　make　control　rods　for　certain　types　of　nuclear　reactors；　especially　those　installed　in　submarines。〃　He　turned　over　a　page；　as　if　he　were　reading　directly　from　the　file。　〃We　need　hafnium。　We　never　have　enough。　But　the　Western　alliance；　CO〃…Irina　knew　he　meant　the　Coordinating　mittee　for　Multilateral　Export　Controls…〃forbids　its　member　nations　to　sell　us　any　because　it's　classified　a　strategic　metal；　suitable　for　military　purposes。''
　Mars　lit　another　Turkish　cigarette　from　the　butt　of　the　one　he　had　finished。　''It　has　taken　us　years；　but　we　have　found　a　reliable　source　in　the　West　for　hafnium。　That　is；　until　CO　found　out　about　it　and　cut　off　the　supply　at　its　source：　Japan。　At　least；　that's　what　we　believed；　since　the　hafnium　supply　line　ceased　to　function　shortly　after　the　source　was　shut　down。〃
　He　rose；　poured　himself　more　coffee　and　vodka。　Back　at　his　desk；　he　sat　sipping　and　smoking　for　so　long　that　Irina　became　convinced　that　he　had　forgotten　his　train　of　thought。
　At　last　she　said；　〃What　happened　to　the　hafnium　meant　for　delivery　here？〃
　〃Ah。〃　Mars　put　his　cup　down。　〃At　first　we　assumed　that　it　had　been　confiscated　by　the　Tokyo　police　and　handed　over　to　the　Tokuso；　the　Tokyo　District　Special　Prosecutor's　Office。　That's　standard　operating　procedure　there。　A　week　later；　however；　we　received　a　reliable　report…　which　we　were　later　able　to　verify　from　an　independent　source…that　the　last　shipment　of　hafnium　had　gone　out　before　the　raid；　and　we　were　discreetly　asked　for　payment。　The　trouble　was；　we　had　never　received　the　hafnium。''
　Irina　sat　up。　〃You　said　the　supply　line　had　ceased　to　function。〃
　Mars　threw　the　file　to　one　side；　got　up；　came　over　to　the　bed。　〃In　a　sense；　that's　true。〃　He　looked　down　at　her。　〃When　we　sent　people　back　down　the　pipeline　to　trace　the　whereabouts　of　that　last　shipment；　they　found　only　death。　Each　link　had　had　his　tongue　neatly　cut　off；　jammed　down　his　throat。　To　asphyxiate　is　far　from　pleasant；　but　to　die　in　that　way　is　monstrous。〃
　Irina