Russian Spring by Norman Spinrad Read Free Book Online

in Lenino, barely inside Moscow, with no real connection to anyone with connections for as far back as her ancestry was traceable could hardly afford to toss away the only aura of connectedness she had in the fanatical service of the total truth.
    Of course, if she was asked point-blank if she was a relative of theheroic Yuri she would admit she was not, nor did she ever exactly claim she was, for that would be an actual lie, one that would speedily enough be uncovered if told to teachers or youth leaders and inscribed accordingly in her kharakteristika with exceedingly unfortunate consequences. But if they or her schoolmates chose to entertain such fantasies without her assistance, who was Sonya Ivanovna Gagarin to smash their rosy illusions with excess candor?
    If she was going to be one of the favored few to live in the West, she needed all the advantage she could get, and—aside from her dark good looks and precocious breast development and her willingness to work hard—her name was the only edge she had.
    Sonya Ivanovna had grown up dreaming longingly of life in the West. When had it started? When she was a toddler watching the
Vremya
coverage of the opening of the French Disneyland, where girls just like herself cavorted with Donald and Mickey? When her father brought home a cassette of
Roger Rabbit
for her sixth birthday?
    It was as old and as deep and as innocently nonpolitical as all that. It started with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and Roger Rabbit and travelogues and progressed through picture postcards into stamp collecting and an interest in geography to pen-pal programs and a knack for grade-school English and French, via Eurovision broadcasts and foreign music videos and magazines, to a career scenario that had been formed long before Sonya knew what a “career” or a “scenario” was.
    It was still the time of the Troubles, before perestroika had finally begun to deliver the goods when it came to filling the stores with earthly delights, and intellectual freedom and the official approval of foreign exotica were desperately being offered up to the Soviet people in lieu of same.
    So Sonya had never been told that her enthusiasm for the marvelous worldwide Disneyland outside the borders of the Soviet Union was in any way unpatriotic or reactionary. Far from it! Her father encouraged her stamp collecting and her interest in geography and her mother helped her with the correspondences with pen pals in England and France. All this had been encouraged by a sharp Pioneer leader who had seen that with proper channeling this young girl’s passion for things Western might serve as a locomotive for her academic pursuits.
    As it did. Sonya was a diligent student and threw herself enthusiastically into any Pioneer activity with even a tenuous connection to the world outside. By the time teachers and parents and Komsomol leaders had begun to broach the question of higher studies and career choices, Sonya had already formulated a firm and resolute answerand was ready to forthrightly enlist their assistance in the attainment of her chosen goal.
    Sonya Ivanovna Gagarin was going to become an officer in the foreign service. How better to secure a life of abundant travel in the West? Indeed, considering that she had no family connections, no talent for sport or the arts or science or theater or dance or music, how
else
for a young Soviet citizen to trip the life fantastic through the wide and wonderful world?
    Yes, even her fifteen-year-old decision to join the foreign service was blithely nonpolitical, though she knew enough to construct the persona of an idealistic young Komsomolya seriously aspiring to eventual Party membership and seeking to channel her natural abilities in the patriotic service of the Motherland.
    Glowing recommendations from the Komsomol, combined with her high grades in everything not having to do with science or mathematics, got her into Lomonosov University, where she majored in English, French,