Русское воскрешение Мэрилин Монро. На 2 языках. Дмитрий Николаевич ТагановЧитать онлайн книгу.
had no doubts in your faith to the Party, thank you. I had more spare time in this hospital, and I’ve considered your case. North Korean Communists rule their country much firmer than we had done, they do not lose their noble ideals so easily, and they will survive for decades or even centuries after we perish – of course, you must properly understand my frankness. That is why, you must go there, and raise your clones in that country: North Korean Communists proved their ability to build Communist society on their soil. If you are willing to go, I'll start to test the waters. But we’ll have to get them interested in this project. Say, could you clone also a baby Mao Zedong? Body of this great Chinese revolutionary lies in a mausoleum in Beijing, China, exactly as our Lenin here in Moscow, and that means the necessary genetic material is available. Koreans would like to get the upper hand with their Chinese friends, having a baby-Mao clone all to themselves. They will welcome you, I’m sure. Soon you will have a lot of kids, and a lot of fun. Ready?”
“Of course, I’m ready. It’s my duty, comrade Andropov.”
Jazz record still played, and that meant their conversation continued less than twenty minutes. As a farewell General Secretary just tiredly nodded and closed his eyes.
Уже через месяц Юрия Андропова не стало. Академик смотрел по телевизору, как по заснеженной Красной площади везли на пушечном лафете гроб с телом генсека, и комок подступил ему к горлу, а в душе он чувствовал, что главное дело его жизни не удалось, и он, как коммунист, прожил свою жизнь напрасно.
Though, in a month’s time General Secretary Yuri Andropov had died. The academician watched on the TV screen his coffin being solemnly carried on a gun-carriage through the snow-covered Red Square, and a lump rose to his throat. He felt that most important purpose of his life would never be accomplished now, and as a Communist he had lived his life in vain.
Прошли еще полтора года. За это время успел заступить в должность и умереть еще один Генеральный секретарь партии, началась горбачевская «перестройка», а великая коммунистическая держава медленно, но неотвратимо начала сползать в пропасть капитализма.
И вот однажды летним вечером, когда академик вышел во двор своего дома погулять с собакой, из припаркованной рядом машины вышел человек и направился к нему. Академик обратил на него внимание только когда услыхал из его уст свое имя.
Another one and a half years elapsed. One more Secretary General accepted the office, the next one in a queue of elderly Politburo members, but he also died very soon. Much younger Gorbachev was given the office, with a mutual hope on vigor in his veins, but that, as it turned out, was a dubious decision. The last in the party’s history Secretary General started his perestroika, that is a “reconstruction”, and the great Communist state, or as US President Ronald Reagan named it, an Evil Empire, started to slide slowly and inevitably down to the abyss of ideologically opposing Capitalism.
One hot summer evening, when academician got out of his Moscow apartment for a walk with his dog, from the car that was parked by the doorway appeared a stranger and approached him in twilight. The academician noticed him only when the stranger called him by the name.
– С кем имею честь? – не очень дружелюбно спросил он, разглядывая в полутьме незнакомца и натягивая поводок рвущейся в сторону собаки.
– Вот мои документы, – ответил тот и протянул ему красные корочки с гербом Советского Союза и буквами «КГБ».
– Я вас слушаю, – сказал академик, продолжая разглядывать в темноте фотографию на пропуске.
– Чтобы вы мне больше доверяли, – сказал незнакомец, – я могу напомнить вам содержание вашего разговора с Юрием Андроповым полтора года назад. Никто, кроме вас двоих, его не слышал. Мне его пересказал лично товарищ Андропов.
Академик вздрогнул и вскинул глаза.
– Не обязательно.
“May I have the honor to ask who are you?” asked the academician cautiously; that was a polite but detached and very old-fashioned Russian expression. The academician scrutinized in the twilight the stranger’s face while his small dog was pulling him away by the lead.
“Here’s my credentials,” said the stranger and held out his hand with a double-folded red card with a state emblem and golden letters KGB.
“What do you want?” asked the academician scrutinizing in the darkness the photograph inside the card.
“Just one thing – I want you to trust me,” said the stranger and smiled. “To that effect I want to remind you the subject and content of your conversation with late Yuri Andropov one and a half year ago in a hospital ward. No one except two of you had heard it. I was told of this conversation personally by late comrade Andropov. Shall I recall it to you?”The academician shuddered and threw up his eyes. “It’s not necessary.”
– Северокорейские товарищи вас ждут. Предсмертное поручение, которое вам дал Юрий Владимирович, остается в силе. Вы можете выехать на восток хоть завтра.
– Завтра не получится… – в раздумье сказал академик и посмотрел на свои часы.
– Вы уедите вдвоем с женой и, как вас предупреждали, под чужими фамилиями. Детей, как мне известно, у вас нет. Так?
Академик