Part 2 (2/2)
”Have to shorten the cheek bones.”
”For ten million dollars,” said Smith, ”you can take the d.a.m.ned things out altogether and hang them on your wall.”
Sophia Androvna Petrovitch made her way downtown through the bustle of tired workers and the occasional sprinkling of Comrades. She crushed her _ersatz_ cigarette underfoot at number 616 Stalin Avenue, paused for the s.p.a.ce of five heartbeats at the door, went inside.
”What do you want?” The man at the desk was myopic but bull-necked.
Sophia showed her party card.
”Oh, Comrade. Still, you are a woman.”
”You're terribly observant, Comrade,” said Sophia coldly. ”I am here to volunteer.”
”But a woman.”
”There is nothing in the law which says a woman cannot volunteer.”
”We don't make women volunteer.”
”I mean really volunteer, of her own free will.”
”Her--own--free will?” The bull-necked man removed his spectacles, scratched his balding head with the ear-pieces. ”You mean volunteer without--”
”Without coercion. I want to volunteer. I am here to volunteer. I want to sign on for the next Stalintrek.”
”Stalintrek, a woman?”
”That is what I said.”
”We don't force women to volunteer.” The man scratched some more.
”Oh, really,” said Sophia. ”This is 1992, not mid-century, Comrade.
Did not Premier Stalin say, 'Woman was created to share the glorious destiny of Mother Russia with her mate?'” Sophia created the quote randomly.
”Yes, if Stalin said--”
”He did.”
”Still, I do not recall--”
”What?” Sophia cried. ”Stalin dead these thirty-nine years and you don't recall his speeches? What is your name, Comrade?”
”Please, Comrade. Now that you remind me, I remember.”
”What is your name.”
”Here, I will give you the volunteer papers to sign. If you pa.s.s the exams, you will embark on the next Stalintrek, though why a beautiful young woman like you--”
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