‘Wait!’ he said. ‘By heavens, just wait till I get home!
198 THE LAST FRONTIER
The British Government, their precious projects, their missiles — damn their projects and the missiles! I’ve got more important things to do first.’
‘Such as?’ Jansci asked mildly.
‘Communism!’ Jennings downed his glass of barack and his voice was almost a shout. ‘I’m not boasting, but I’ve got the ear of nearly all the big newspapers in the country. They’ll listen to me — especially when they remember the damned poppycock I used to talk before. Ill expose the whole damned, rotten system of communism, and by the time I’m finished — ‘
Too late.’ The interruption came from the Count, and the tone was ironic.
‘What do you mean “Too late”?” Jennings demanded.
“The Count just means that communism has already been pretty thoroughly exposed,8 Jansci said soothingly, ‘and, without offence, Dr. Jennings, by people who have suffered for years under it, not just a week-end, as you have.’
‘You expect me to go back to London and sit on my hands — ‘ Jennings broke off, and when he spoke again Ms tone was calmer. ‘Damn it, man, it’s the duty of everyone — all right, all right, I’m late in seeing it, but I see it now — it’s the duty of everyone to do what he can to stop the spread of this damned creed — ‘
‘Too late.’ Again the dry interruption came from the Count.
‘He just means that communism, outside its homeland, is failing of its own accord,’ Jansci explained hastily. ‘You don’t need to stop it, Dr. Jennings — it’s already stopped. Oh, it works here and there, but only to a limited extent, and then only among primitive peoples like the Mongols who fall for the fine phrases and the even finer promises, but not with us, not with the Hungarians, Czechs, Poles or others, not in any country where the people are more politically advanced than the Russians themselves. Take this country itself — who were the most heavily indoctrinated people?’
‘The youth, I should imagine.’ Jennings was holding his impatience in check only with difficulty. ‘They always are.’
‘The youth.’ Jansci nodded. ‘And the pampered darlings of communism — the writers, the intellectuals, the lionised workers of heavy industry. And who led the revolt here against the Russians? Exactly the same people — the young, the intellectuals and the workers. The fact that I think that the
THE LAST FRONTIER 199
whole rising was futile, crazily ill-timed has nothing to do with it. The point is that communism failed most completely in those among whom it had the best chance of succeeding — if it were ever to succeed.’
‘And you should see the churches in my country,’ the Count murmured. ‘Crowded masses every Sunday — packed with kids. You wouldn’t worry about communism so much then, Professor. In fact,’ he added dryly, ‘the only thing to match the failure of communism in our countries is its remarkable success in countries like Italy and France who have never seen one of these in their lives.’ He gestured, with evident distaste, at the uniform he was wearing, and shook his head sadly. ‘Human nature is a wonderful thing.’
‘Then what the devil would you have me do?’ Jennings demanded. ‘Forget the whole damned thing?’
‘No.’ Jansci shook his head, with just a trace of weariness. “That’s the last thing I want you to do, that’s the last thing I want anyone to do — there may be a greater crime, a greater sin than indifference, but I don’t know of it. No, Dr. Jennings, what I should like you to do is to go home and tell your people that we in Central Europe have only our one little life apiece to lead, and ‘time is running out. Tell them that we would like to smell the sweet air of freedom, just once, before we go. Tell them that we have been waiting for seventeen long years now, and hope cannot last for ever. Tell them we don’t want our children, and our children’s children, to walk along the dark and endless road of slavery, and never see a light at the end. Tell them we don’t want much — we only want a little peace, green fields and church bells and carefree children playing in the sun, without fear, without want, without wondering what dark clouds tomorrow must surely bring.’
Jansci leant forward in his chair, his glass forgotten, the tired lined face beneath the thick white hair ruddy in the flickering flames of the fire, earnest and intense as Reynolds had never seen.
‘Tell them, tell your people at home, that our lives, and the lives of generations to come, lie in their hands. Tell them that there is only one thing that ultimately matters on this earth, and that is peace on this earth. And tell them that this is a very small earth, and growing smaller with every year that passes, but that we all have to live on it together, that we all must live on it together.’
‘Co-existence?’ Dr. Jennings raised an eyebrow.
‘Co-existence. A terrible word, a. big bogey-man word, but what else could any sane man ever offer in its place — all the nameless horrors of a thermo-nuclear war, the requiem for the lost hopes of mankind? No, co-existence must come, it must if mankind is to survive, but this world without spheres, the dream of that great American, Cordell Hull, will never come if you have impetuous fools, as you do have, Dr. Jennings, shouting for big results now, here, today. It will never come so long as people in the west think in terms of parachute diplomacy, of helping us to help ourselves. . . . My God! They’ve never seen even a single Mongol division in action or they wouldn’t talk such arrant nonsense — it will never come while people talk dangerous drivel about the Russian people being their secret allies, who say, “Get at the Russian people,” or listen to the gratuitous advice of people who fled these unhappy countries of ours years ago and have lost all contact with what we are thinking and feeling today.
‘Most of all, it will never come so long as our leaders and governments, our newspapers and our propagandists teach us incessantly, insistently, that we must hate and fear and despise all the other peoples who share this same tiny world with us. The nationalism of those who cry, “We are the people,” the jingoistic brand of patriotism — these are the great evils of our world today, the barriers to peace that no man can overcome. What hope is there for the’ world as long as we cling to the outmoded forms of national allegiance? We owe allegiance to no one, Dr. Jennings, at least not on this earth.’ Jansci smiled. ‘Christ came to save mankind, we are told — but maybe he has made a special exception in the case of the Russians.’
‘What Jansci is trying to tell you, Dr. Jennings,’ the Count murmured, ‘is that all you’ve got to do is to convert the western world to Christianity and all will be well.’
‘Not quite.’ Jansci shook his head. ‘What I say applies to the Russians even more than the western world, but I think the first move must come from the western world — a maturer people, a more politically advanced people — and not nearly so afraid of the Russians as the Russians are of them.’
‘Talk.’ Jennings was no longer angry, not even ironic, just thoughtful. ‘Talk, talk, just talk. It’ll require a great deal more than that, my friend, to bring about the millennium. It needs action. First move, you said. What move?’
‘Heaven only knows.’ Jansci shook his head. ‘I don’t; if I did know, no name in all history would be so revered as that of Major-General Illyurin. No man can do more, no man dare do more than make suggestions.’
No one spoke, and after a time Jansci went on slowly.
‘It is essential, I think, to hammer home the idea of peace, the idea of disarmament, to convince the Russians, above all things, of our peaceful intentions. Peaceful intentions!’ Jansci laughed without mirth. ‘The British and the Americans filling the armouries of the nations of Western Europe with hydrogen bombs — what a way to demonstrate peaceful intentions, what a way rather to ensure that Russia will never relax its grip on the satellites it no longer wants, what a way to drive the men of the Kremlin, scared men, I tell you, inexorably nearer the last thing in the world they want to do — sending the first intercontinental missile on its way: the last thing they want to do, the last act of panic or desperation, because they know better than any that, though in their deep cellars in Moscow they may survive the retaliation that will surely come, they will never survive the vengeful fury of the crazed survivors of the holocaust that will just as surely engulf their own nation.. To arm Europe is to provoke the Russians to the point of madness: whatever else we may not do, it is essential to avoid all provocation, to keep the door of negotiation and approach always open, no matter what the rebuffs may be.’