had to laugh at the crazy ballet being performed by people around the Central Committee building, who danced with their briefcases pressed tightly under their arms. The weather was Anna’s ally. Everyone was concentrating on reaching his goal without falling down, and nobody observed the young woman who was visiting, one by one, the six entrances to the building complex. The gates were made of steel, the underground levels protected by concrete ramps. Anna’s attention was directed toward the vehicles that approached the CC complex and disappeared inside or stopped nearby. Without exception, the automobiles were black, with license plates that began with the letters MO. The Volgas and Chaikas aroused no interest in her, but if a ZIL drove by, Anna made an effort to get a look at the back of it. She reached the windowless annex to the main building; there were many ZILs parked outside, one behind the other. Struggling to keep her balance, Anna moved along the pavement, looking at the limousines’ ice-covered rear ends and rectangular taillights. Her eyes were seeking a broken brake light with a dent in its metal housing. The damage had been done during her last ride in the car. More hastily than usual, Anton had turned off the Mozhaisk Chaussée and failed to notice a concrete pillar. There had been an unpleasant crunching sound, and Anton had leaped out with a flashlight in his hand and run to the back of the car. “They’ll be laughing at me in the garage,” he said when he got in again. “I’m the driver with the most accidents.” He winked at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m not going to take it to the repair shop just for a dent. Don’t give me away, Comrade.”
Since the announcement of the Five-Year Plan would be made very shortly, Alexey had to go to the Central Committee every day, and right about this time, too; Anton must park the car somewhere around here, she thought. At the third ZIL, Anna hesitated and bent down for a closer inspection. It wasn’t a dent, just the remains of some ice still clinging to the rear fender. The security officer on duty at the gate noticed her and approached. Anna pretended to straighten her cap, using the car window as a mirror, and skidded away. When she reached the main entrance for the second time, the number of policemen there had doubled; one of them pressed his walkie-talkie to his ear. The steel panels of the gate parted, the policeman stopped the ordinary traffic, and a convoy of four limousines appeared, their rear-window curtains all closed. The first car drove into the inner portion of the complex, followed by all the others; none of them slowed down. The gate closed, and the policemen disappeared back into their sentry boxes. Anna imagined that she had seen Brezhnev himself being driven to work. Since the assassination attempt on him a few years before, it was said that the General Secretary always traveled in a convoy so that nobody would know which limousine he was riding in. Anna looked over the square. She could have been watching the arrival of any CC member, she thought; what difference did it make?
After an hour, she admitted to herself that with so many ZILs about, it was naive of her to think she’d be able to find the very one that Anton drove. In the end, the weather and the chaos on the streets made Anna give up and sent her on her way back to the bus stop. Later, loaded down with purchases from various shops, she entered a telephone booth and dialed the number of the apartment on Drezhnevskaya Street. As she had expected, there was no reply. It was clearer to her than ever before that the Deputy Minister could get in touch with her at any time, but the reverse was impossible.
Some days later, Anna was informed that the visitors’ committee was having a preparatory meeting. Its purposes: introduction to the work of the science city, illustration of the basic concepts of physics, distribution of informational material.
After the early shift, Anna set out for a meeting house of the Moscow City Soviet. There she was given a laminated card that declared her an official member of the “Dubna Visitors’ Committee.” In an overheated room on the fourth floor, most of the other members of the delegation were already present, among them a young woman who was a budding Aeroflot pilot,