Читаем Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War полностью

Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“There is not,” the Maid declared with blazing eyes as she replaced her empty glass of tea on the table. “God has chosen you for this role and you must play it out. When our forces and General Denikin’s join to liberate Samara, our Heavenly Father will call on you to gather a new national assembly there to restore governance to the Russian people. If you do this, the assembly will show its gratitude by making you regent of a new Russian republic, and you will be revered for it by generations of Russians. But if you fail, your name will go down in infamy as the man who presided over the worst calamity to befall Russia since the Mongol invasion.”

At this, Kolchak went pale and rose from his seat to retreat behind his massive double-pedestaled writing desk, as he often did when under acute stress.

“Surely such responsibility cannot be assigned to one man alone,” he complained in a chilly tone. “Many mistakes have been made, and more still to come, but I refuse to have them all laid at my feet.”

“Our Maker has placed you here for a reason, dear Admiral,” the Maid responded. “It is not merely to defeat Bolshevism, but to deserve the victory. This can be done only by breaking with Russia’s tyrannical past and following God’s commands, especially the one to love thy neighbor as thyself. If you fail in this, know that what follows will make today’s strife appear like a holiday feast. There will be endless warfare and famine, the uprooting of entire peoples to remote swamps and tundra, the desecration of churches, and brutal slavery on a scale that cannot be imagined. Bolshevism will infect every continent and its foul tide will not recede for nigh a century!”

Upon hearing these predictions, Kolchak shrank back in his seat and his perpetually pale face turned almost white.

“But how am I to satisfy God’s demands without losing the support of those who keep me in power?” he demanded. “What steps can I possibly take that will satisfy them both?”

“Representative government, universal suffrage, land reform: these are things that the people demanded two years ago during the February Revolution,” Zhanna answered in a steady voice. “Yet they have not been realized, either here or in Sovdepia. Implement these reforms in Siberia, Your Excellency! And champion them in Ukraine, Poland, Finland, and the Baltic States. Such measures will reap praise not only from Russia and our neighbors, but also from the Allied Powers, on whose aid our very survival depends. I tell you, Admiral, the Americans and the British will never accept a return to tyranny here. If we fail to win their total support by summer’s end, September will ring the death knell for us and our cause.”

But Zhanna’s call to relinquish Russian hegemony over its captive neighbors was evidently too much for the Supreme Ruler to swallow. Before she finished her first sentence, Kolchak folded his arms and broke eye contact with her.

“Land reform is possible here in Siberia because we can sell off state lands and compensate private landowners for their lost property,” he explained, still looking away. “But we have no right to abandon territory that Russia has ruled for centuries and for which our forefathers paid a price in blood. What are those little countries, anyway? They have no greatness apart from Russia! History will never forgive me if I defeat the Red army only to surrender what Peter the Great won and generations of Russians fought to preserve! I do not see the virtue in a victory that renders Russia unrecognizable.”

“Tell me, Admiral,” Zhanna countered, “where is the virtue in grieving over a damaged limb whose loss is required to save your life? Finland is already lost. I say, recognize the Finns’ independence, which is now a fact, and gain their support against the Red Army.”

“But this is extortion!” Kolchak stormed.

“In our eyes, perhaps, but not in those of the Finns. Our choice is to give them their freedom or lose ours.”

Kolchak fell silent for a long moment, then hung his head and answered, “I cannot do it. I simply cannot.”