Striking the Balance

“This is good.” Skriabin steepled his inky fingers. “Is it the only thing you have to report?”

Nussboym made haste to reply: “No, Comrade Colonel.”

Skriabin nodded-had he been interrupted just for that, he would have made Nussboym regret it. The interpreter went on, “The other matter, though, is so delicate, I hesitate to bring it to your attention.” He was glad he was able to use Polish with Skriabin; he could never have been subtle enough in Russian.

“Delicate?” The camp commandant raised an eyebrow. “We seldom hear such a word in this place.”

“I understand. This, however”-Nussboym looked back over his shoulder to make certain the desk out there remained unoccupied-“concerns your secretary, Apfelbaum.”

“Does it?” Skriabin kept his voice neutral. “All right. Go on. You have my attention. What about Apfelbaum?”

“Day before yesterday, Comrade Colonel, Apfelbaum and I were walking outside Barracks Three with Oyyag, discussing ways the Lizard prisoners could meet their norms.” Nussboym picked his words with great care. “And Apfelbaum said everyone’s life would be easier if the Great Stalin-he used the title sarcastically, I must say-if the Great Stalin worried as much about how much the Soviet people ate as he did about how hard they worked for him. That is exactly what he said. He was speaking Russian, not Yiddish, so Oyyag could understand, and I had trouble following him, so I had to ask him to repeat himself. He did, and was even more sarcastic the second time than the first.”

“Is that so?” Skriabin said. Nussboym nodded. Skriabin scratched his head. “And the Lizard heard it, too, you say, and understood it?” Nussboym nodded again. The NKVD colonel looked up to the boards of the ceiling. “He will, I suppose, make a statement to this effect?”

“If it is required of him, Comrade Colonel, I think he would,” Nussboym replied. “Would it be? Perhaps I should not have mentioned it, but-”

“Butindeed,” Skriabin said heavily. “I suppose you now think it necessary to file a formal written denunciation against Apfelbaum.”

Nussboym feigned reluctance. “I would really rather not. As you recall when I denounced one of thezeks with whom I formerly worked, this is not something I care to do. It strikes me as-”

“Useful?” Skriabin suggested. Nussboym looked back at him with wide eyes, glad the NKVD man could not see his thoughts. No, they hadn’t put him in charge of this camp by accident. He reached into his desk and pulled out a fresh form headed with incomprehensible Cyrillic instructions. “Write out what he said-Polish or Yiddish will do. That way, we will have it on file. I suppose the Lizard would talk about this to all and sundry. You would never do such a thing yourself, of course.”

“Comrade Colonel, the idea would never enter my mind.”

Nussboym put shocked innocence into his voice. He knew he was lying, as did Colonel Skriabin. But, like any game, this one had rules. He accepted a pen and wrote rapidly. After scrawling his signature at the bottom of the denunciation, he handed the paper back to Skriabin.

He supposed Apfelbaum would come back with a denunciation of his own. But he’d picked his target carefully. Skriabin’s clerk would have a hard time getting his fellow politicals to back any accusations he made: they disliked him because of the way he sucked up to the commandant and the privileges he got because he was Skriabin’s aide. The ordinaryzeks despised him-they despised all politicals. And he didn’t know any Lizards.

Skriabin said, “From another man, I might think this denunciation made because he wanted Apfelbaum’s position.”

“You could not possibly say that of me,” Nussboym answered. “I could not fill his position, and would never claim I could. If the camp functioned in Polish or Yiddish, then yes, you might say that about me. But I do not have enough Russian to do his job. All I want is to let the truth be known.”

“You are the soul of virtue,” Skriabin said dryly. “I note, however, that virtue is not necessarily an asset on the road to success.”

“Indeed, Comrade Colonel,” Nussboym said.Be careful, the NKVD man was telling him. He intended to be careful if he could shake Apfelbaum loose from his job, get him sent off to some harder camp in disgrace, everyone here would move up. His own place would improve. Now that he’d acknowledged he was in effect a political and cast his lot with the camp administration, he thought he might as well take as much advantage of the situation as he could.

After all, if you didn’t look out for yourself, who was going to look out for you? He’d felt miserable after Skriabin had made him sign the first denunciation, the one against Ivan Fyodorov. This one, though, this one didn’t bother him at all.

Offhandedly, Skriabin said, “A train bringing in new prisoners will arrive tomorrow. A couple of cars’ worth, I am given to understand, will be women.”