CHAPTER 9. AND HE WHO WALKS THROUGH LIFE WITH A SONG

“Verily, I toil like an ox,” he confessed in a tone half-mocking and half-broken. “You’re right; it’s circus work—every day new tricks. For whom? For my family. I earn, my wife spends. My son rides on my neck. So I work while he just eats. My wife will blow the whole film pay, and he’ll devour it. I work for the family, the basic unit of society, for the country’s good. That’s how it is.”

“We’ll make sure your family feels it if you keep being stubborn,” they replied, their threat softening into clarification. “Who commissioned the film?”

“You can get all the paperwork from my image consultant. She manages my training, lodging, meals—she handles negotiations, too. She trains here; she was face-down on the floor. They’ve probably questioned her already,” he deflected, pointing at the woman who’d taken him and insisting she be considered his tormentor. He didn’t know the terminology of show business; he’d never seen a contract and didn’t know if it even existed. Better to shift responsibility onto the weaker sex, he thought.

“What a bastard! It’s always the women’s fault with you!” they shouted from different sides for greater psychological pressure. Then a softer voice whispered in his ear: “Confess your guilt and you’ll get a sentence below the minimum. If you’re a spy, we’ll trade you for one of ours. You’ll live peacefully in the West. Rolling in clover—your family set for life.”

“Everyone out!” barked the same voice, then, in honeyed tones: “Now you and I will come to an understanding, and no one will know. Tell me everything you know about their plans.”

“They want to shoot a film in space with me in the starring role. That’s how my family will roll in clover. Here they’re turning me into a cosmonaut who looks like the top man. That’s all I know,” he repeated.

“Why did Lyudmila come here? Did you see her? What did she say? Repeat it word for word!” the investigator demanded, his status rising in the room as it became clear the whole preceding charade aimed to dig up dirt on the president’s ex-wife for the higher-ups.

“Probably a quality check on my image. I take tests all the time; I probably don’t even know about some of them,” he answered, bewildered.

“I don’t believe you,” the investigator cut in. “I know how to extract the truth, and now we’ll invite the film crew back so the right people can hear it.”