Read Time Will Run Back for Free Online

speeches to others. And there were others who, acting as his deputies, could do that very well: Bolshekov, Adams—he turned to look at them—need he mention every member of the Politburo? (Great cheers.)
    Hereafter Comrade Bolshekov, acting as his deputy, would preside at the May Day parades and other functions, while Comrade Adams would have to assume some of Bolshekov’s former powers and administrative duties. In fact—and here he assumed a jovial, bantering expression—instead of Bolshekov being No. 2 and Adams No. 3, as heretofore, it might almost be more accurate hereafter to call Bolshekov No. 1 1 / 2 and Adams No. 2 1 / 2 . (Much good-natured laughter. A sick smile from Bolshekov.) And here Stalenin must take his public farewell, but only so far as public appearances were concerned, for the people would know that, silently, often alone, late into the nights, he would be working for them with the last grain of his vitality and the last drop of his blood. “Work! Work! Work!” he cried. “And Wonworld forever!”
    The applause, the shouting, the crying, rose to a height never before reached. People became hysterical. Some fell on their knees. Soon the whole crowd was on its knees.
    Stalenin strode off, followed by the members of the Politburo.
    In a few minutes the reviewing stand was empty.

Chapter 5
    WHEN they had got up and brushed the dust from their trousers, Peter turned to Edith. “What are you doing now?” “I join my ORP, of course.” “ORP?”
    “My Organized Recreation Platoon. Ours forms in ten minutes at Engels Square.” “May I walk over with you?” “If you wish. But haven’t you been assigned to any ORP of your own?”
    “No—that is—not yet.”
    At Engels Square a number of platoons were already forming.
    “How long will this take?” asked Peter.
    “Till four o’clock.”
    “Does the platoon come back here?”
    “Yes.”
    “May I see you then?”
    “I’m taking my father out. He’s just recovering from pneumonia. I have a permit to take him out for an hour a day for the next week. See!” She pulled out a card.
    “May I walk with you and your father?”
    She hesitated. All over the square platoon leaders were shouting the command, “Fall in!” She ran toward her platoon and waved a quick good-by to him. “All right!” she said finally. He watched her fall into line.
    The platoons marched off until the square was almost deserted. But not quite. Peter looked around. Behind him was the man with the bushy eyebrows. And somewhat further away was a new figure—a short, gorilla-like man with extraordinarily long arms.
    “Did you have a good time?” asked Peter. Edith’s ORP had returned to the square and been dismissed. He himself had put in four dreary hours.
    “Oh, wonderful!” she answered. “We had lunch; then setting-up exercises; then we played organized softball; and then we were taken to see the kulak family guillotined.”
    They walked through blocks of drab tenements. Edith stopped in front of one. “Here we are!” she exclaimed. She led him up three flights of stairs and opened the door to a dark room looking on a tiny courtyard. “Isn’t it nice?” she asked.
    Peter looked around. It was a medium-sized room into which had been crowded four beds, a number of chairs, and a couple of packing cases apparently used as bureaus. Two of the beds were in complete disorder.
    “This is our part of the room,” said Edith proudly, pointing to the two neatly made-up beds.
    The only occupant of the room as they entered was a white-haired man, distinguished and intelligent looking. He was sitting in an invalid’s chair.
    “Father,” said Edith, “this is Comrade Uldanov.”
    Her father glanced suspiciously at Peter’s empty lapel.
    “He just got into Moscow yesterday, father, but he expects to get his license number tomorrow.”
    “Uldanov...” said the old gentleman. “That sounds familiar.”
    He held out his hand. “I’m glad to know you, comrade.