The trip to Los Angeles would be his first visit to the United States.
Here he planned to use his looks to his best advantage. Aware of American suspicions of the stodgy old statesmen who had previously represented the Motherland, he hoped to gain the trust of the U.S. citizens. Nowhere on the planet were people more media conscious. At the side of their handsome new President, Rodin would look most compatible.
Half the battle of understanding would already have been won.
He had spent three weeks extensively preparing for the summit. Yet, more than intricate bargaining, he hoped to be able to explain the general principles underlying his vision. He would leave all the details to his aides. At the moment, it was more important for him and Robert Palmer to know exactly what the other really wanted. Rodin was confident that their goals were the same. It would be their difficult task to tear down the walls of misunderstanding that had separated their two cultures for almost one hundred years. Each leader was already well aware that some of the most perplexing obstacles were to be found inside of their own countries.
Rodin’s present visit to Petropavlovsk underscored this fact. They would be landing there not only to refuel, but also to initiate the elimination of just such an interior obstacle. In this case, the opponent was not a Western diplomat, but the Fleet Admiral of the Soviet Union.
Stanislav Sorokin was an already-legendary individual.
As the unquestioned father of the Russian Navy, the admiral’s vision couldn’t be ignored. A lifetime of vigilant public dedication had led to the creation of one of the most powerful fleets ever to sail the seas.
Now … how did one go about telling such a person that, if all went as planned, such an armada would no longer be necessary?
The time for following the grand old admirals and generals had passed.
Today, an enlightened world populace demanded an end to the paranoid military madness that was choking the planet’s continued development. Newly elected leaders such as Viktor Rodin and Robert Palmer were the hand-chosen spokesmen of this dynamic generation. It was now up to them to tell the members of their military-industrial complexes that they would no longer have a blank check to play with.
Of course, Rodin knew just what the powerbrokers’ reactions would be.
He therefore moved cautiously in consolidating his power. Otherwise, his policies wouldn’t stand a chance. He began his consolidation in the Politburo. This all-powerful committee of thirteen ruled virtually all aspects of the Rodina’s direction.
Today he could say with confidence that half of the Politburo were solidly behind him. Any time now the remaining hard liners who were generally well into their seventies, would be stepping down and their replacements would guarantee Rodin a majority. Old age and its resulting ill health were already one of Rodin’s best allies. Such prominent figures as Yuri Polnocny and the once-feared Konstantin Belchenko no longer had the stamina to effectively oppose his efforts.
The path to nuclear disarmament never looked so promising.
To guarantee the loyalty of the military, Rodin knew that he would have to proceed with utmost care.
For that reason, his pre summit meeting with Stanislav Sorokin was almost as important as the summit itself.
The admiral and his associates had to be reassured that their services would still be vital in the new order to follow. Rodin hoped to paint a picture of a navy without guns. Freed from the wasteful restraints of needless war games and alerts, such a force could concentrate on developing the planet’s oceans to their full potential.
The source of incredible food and mineral wealth, the oceans could be properly harnessed to insure a better life for all.
To Rodin, such a vision made a lot more sense than one predicated on death and destruction. From his window, the Premier caught sight of the western shoreline of the Kamchatka peninsula. The snowcovered expanse was dominated by a thick forest. This was only one tiny portion of the massive Siberian woods over which they had been flying for several hours. Conscious of the utter immensity of the planet itself, Rodin shuddered in anticipation of the greatness that could come from a world in which peace truly prevailed. Without insatiable military budgets to drain them dry, the earth’s population would be free to flourish as never before. The hungry would be fed, the cold clothed, the sick healed. Since man craved competition, let the arena be of an economic nature.
Though a socialistic order would eventually prevail, there were positive sides to the capitalistic approach that couldn’t be ignored.
Let the two systems merge, and the result would be a hybrid combining each side’s strengths.
Rodin had read several campaign speeches in which Robert Palmer had promoted a similar solution to the earth’s problems. Since the American had been elected to his nation’s highest office in a landslide victory, the people were ripe for change. The chances for realistic progress had never been better. Both leaders were in the proverbial right place at the right time. By being true to their convictions, they could proceed with that all-important first step — the elimination of all nuclear weapons.
A knock on the cabin door broke through the silence, and the Premier reluctantly interrupted his train of thought.
“Yes?”
The door popped open and Olga Tyumen, Rodin’s shapely, blonde-haired personal assistant, entered.
She carried a large plastic serving tray, which she placed on the table directly before Rodin.
“I thought some tea and pastries would do you no harm. Comrade General Secretary. After all, you ate practically nothing at breakfast.”
Rodin eyed the assortment of cakes, which indeed looked appetizing.
With his beloved Anna back in Moscow with their two children, it was now Olga’s duty to make sure that he didn’t starve himself.
“Thank you, my dear,” Rodin said, as he reached for an apple tart.
“As usual, I forgot all about my stomach. Would you care to join me?”
Olga smiled and smoothed down her waistline.
“I think I’ll wait for lunch, sir. I wouldn’t want to ruin my diet.”
Viktor took a bite of the tart while eyeing her suspiciously.
“With a figure like yours, you worry about dieting? Don’t you women realize that a man likes a little soft skin around the edges?”
Olga laughed at this and bent to pour him some tea.
He couldn’t help but admire the ample bust that stretched her blouse taut. Olga Tyumen could leave a married man breathless, a fact that she must have been well aware of.
“And how are my associates handling the flight so far?”
“Most of them have slept all morning. With the time changes and all, one gets most confused.
Rodin sipped his tea thoughtfully.
“And how about yourself. Comrade? Are you still anxious to see Los Angeles?”
Olga beamed.
“Of course, sir. It’s like a dream come true. I can’t wait to see Disneyland!”
“Disneyland? Do you mean to say that you’re about to travel halfway around the world just to visit a make-believe fantasy world dedicated to a cartoon duck and a mouse?”