The Geographer's Library

The Geographer’ s Library
“Forgive me. I meant no offense.”
Lubin dipped his head in acceptance. “I admire people who look after
their family. Especially these days. You’re sure about Sasha?”
“Absolutely. And you about Tonu?”
Lubin handed Voskresenyov a sheaf of poor-quality copies of official
documents. “Here he is. Tonu Pühapäev, an exemplary member of a Hiiumaa
sheep farm, has recently been named chairman of the Paide Dairy Collective.
You can see for yourself.”
Voskresenyov grabbed the papers and leafed through them hungrily.
“And this is the one going private?”
“Oh, yes. Private within a year. A consortium of Finns and Swedes are
buying. They say it will be the largest dairy farm in the Baltics. Probably even
supply some of Scandinavia, too. Given the low cost of Soviet labor, even ex-
Soviet free-Estonian labor, it should also be the most profitable, too. We had
to fight tooth and nail to install Tonu. Estonians smell money, they’re worse
than the Jews. And you?”
“As we agreed. Look there,” said Voskresenyov, pointing to the modest
wooden house across the street. “Turgenev’s mother lived there, in that little
house. It survived all the fires, all the destruction, all the blockheaded Soviet
planning. And here it stands, plain and beautiful as ever, not even a plaque to
adorn it.”
Lubin sighed impatiently and shifted his weight back and forth as he
walked. Voskresenyov noticed. “As I was saying. I am resigning my commission
immediately after this conversation. I have the power to name my successor—not
as commander of the Baltic forces, of course, which will cease to
exist very soon—but as a general in the Russian army. And as I promised,
Aleksandr Anatolyevich Lubin will become the army’s youngest general.
Naturally, I cannot guarantee his posting, but if it’s Moscow he wants, I presume
that Moscow he shall have.”
“And there’s no way to tie the favor to me?” asked Lubin, somewhat anxiously.
It was the first time Voskresenyov had seen Lubin act covetous, and
the sight of this stone-faced and oily man suddenly widening his eyes, licking
his lips, and clenching his teeth gave Voskresenyov a pleasant feeling of superiority.
“Sasha and I, we don’t speak as much as we should. If he knew I was
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