Read Online Amerika by Brauna E. Pouns, Donald Wrye - Free Book Online Page A

Chicago office by late afternoon. Still disturbed by the meeting with Petya, he sought diversion by watching the films Mikel had assembled of Devin Milford’s doomed campaign for president. Milford, Andrei acknowledged, had been a magnetic figure; there was power and passion in him, a brutal candor, and a tide of restless energy. Yet there was also a quality of injured innocence in Devin that was peculiarly American. Andrei recognized that innocence as both his strength and his weakness.
    On the monitor, Devin Milford delivered his campaign speech: “Since the takeover by the Soviet Union and the shift by which the United Nations has become its surrogate, we have remained concerned with our own individual, selfish interests, ignoring that we are one people, interdependent.
    “What we thought was impossible has happened,” Milford continued on the TV screen. “We have been subjugated by a foreign power. And if we are honest, we cannot blame our defeat on the EMP or the original surrender. We must blame it on the condition of our society before those things happened. On our loss of purpose, our lack of vision, our lack of faith in ourselves and—”
    The door opened and a shaft of light cut across the screen. Kimberly was ushered in by Mikel,
    “What’s this?” she asked.
    “Devin Milford. He tried to run for president once.” “He’s very attractive.”
    “He should have been shot,” Mikel said.
    “He was released today after five years in a prison camp.”
    Kimberly wrinkled her nose. “I guess he’s not so attractive anymore.” Andrei looked at her, a twinkle in his eye, and said, “A lesson to us all.”
    Ali three of them were drawn back to the image on the screen. After a moment Kimberly said, “I don’t remember seeing him before.”
    “He was denied access to the media. He traveled across the east making this speech and gaining support. When he started to become a threat, we removed him from the race.” He switched off the tape.
    “Why are you watching this now?” she asked.
    “He’s the closest thing to a true leader your country has produced during the Transition. I need to understand, and prevent, such phenomena.”
    “But you have all the power, all the weapons.”
    “It is a clich6, Kimberly, but true, that ideas are more powerful than guns. Most people do not understand that, or believe it, but Milford did. A French philosopher once noted that courage is the only emotion that is more contagious than fear. This man has, or had, five years ago, the kind of courage that has toppled more secure empires than ours. So I am interested in the nature of Milford’s appeal and whether five years of the reeducation process has had the desired effect upon him.”
    “I’m surprised you didn’t just kill him, if he was such a threat.”
    Andrei’s face clouded and by reflex he cast a hard glance at Mikel. “Killing is rather barbaric and ultimately counterproductive. ”
    “As counterproductive,” put in Mikel, “as indulgence sometimes is.”
    “Mikel,” said Andrei, “didn’t you have some correspondence to attend to?”
    Scowling, the aide left the office, and Kimberly nervously lit a cigarette.
    “What is it, darling?” asked Andrei, seeing the trouble in her face. “I thought you had rehearsal this afternoon on your new play.”
    “I did. It’s about Robert Shelter. The man who wrote my play. Someone arrested him. I know you’re too busy to check on everything that happens, but—” Andrei interrupted. “I ordered it.”
    Kimberly was shocked. “Why? How could you?” “The outlaw theaters are getting out of hand. I have been entirely too lax. They are proliferating and as they ridicule the government—they are getting dangerous.”
    Kimberly looked at him, his words sinking in, “I’m going to do Robert’s satire.”
    Andrei shook his head, looking more like a father dealing with a willful teenager than a man speaking to his lover. “You do this, it is at your own