REVOLUTION
By MACK REYNOLDS
Illustrated by Gardner
Preface ... For some forty yearscritics of the U.S.S.R. have been desiring,predicting, not to mentionpraying for, its collapse. For twentyof these years the author of thisstory has vaguely wondered whatwould replace the collapsed Sovietsystem. A return to Czarism? Oh,come now! Capitalism as we knowit today in the advanced Westerncountries? It would seem difficultafter almost half a century of Stateownership and control of the meansof production, distribution, communications,education, science. Thenwhat? The question became increasinglyinteresting following recentvisits not only to Moscow and Leningradbut also to various other capitalcities of the Soviet complex. A controversialsubject? Indeed it is. Youcan't get much more controversialthan this in the world today. Butthis is science fiction, and here we go.
aul Koslov noddedbriefly once or twice ashe made his waythrough the forest ofdesks. Behind him hecaught snatches of tittering voices inwhisper.
"... That's him ... The Chief'shatchetman ... Know what they callhim in Central America, a pistola,that means ... About Iraq ... Andthat time in Egypt ... Did you noticehis eyes ... How would you like todate him ... That's him. I was at acocktail party once when he wasthere. Shivery ... cold-blooded—"
Paul Koslov grinned inwardly. Hehadn't asked for the reputation butit isn't everyone who is a legend beforethirty-five. What was it Newsweekhad called him? "The T. E.Lawrence of the Cold War." Thetrouble was it wasn't something youcould turn off. It had its shortcomingswhen you found time for somepersonal life.
He reached the Chief's office,rapped with a knuckle and pushedhis way through.
The Chief and a male secretary,who was taking dictation, looked up.The secretary frowned, evidentlytaken aback by the cavalier entrance,but the Chief said, "Hello, Paul,come on in. Didn't expect you quiteso soon." And to the secretary,"Dickens, that's all."
When Dickens was gone the Chiefscowled at his trouble-shooter. "Paul,you're bad for discipline aroundhere. Can't you even knock beforeyou enter? How is Nicaragua?"
Paul Koslov slumped into a leathereasy-chair and scowled. "I did knock.Most of it's in my report. Nicaraguais ... tranquil. It'll stay tranquil fora while, too. There isn't so much asa parlor pink—"
"And Lopez—?"
Paul said slowly, "Last time I sawRaul was in a swamp near LakeManagua. The very last time."
The Chief said hurriedly, "Don'tgive me the details. I leave detailsup to you."
"I know," Paul said flatly.
His superior drew a pound can ofSir Walter Raleigh across the desk,selected a briar from a pipe rack andwhile he was packing in tobacco said,"Paul, do you know what day it is—andwhat year?"
"It's Tuesday. And 1965."
The bureau chief looked at hisdisk calendar. "Um-m-m. Today theSeven Year Plan is completed."
Paul snorted.
The Chief said mildly, "Successfully.For all practical purposes, theU.S.S.R. has surpassed us in grossnational product."
"That