The Drums of Jeopardy - Page 118/202

Karlov began to pace furiously, the candle flame springing after him

each time he passed it.

There was a question in Gregor's mind. It rushed to his lips a dozen

times but he dared not voice it. Olga. Since Karlov could not be tempted

to murder, it would be futile to ask for an additional burden of mental

torture. Perhaps it had not happened--the terrible picture he drew in

his mind--since Karlov had not boasted of it.

"Come, Boris. There is blood on your hands. What is one more daub of

it?"

Karlov stopped, scowled, and ran his fingers through his hair. Perhaps

some ugly memory stirred the roots of it. "You wish to die!"

Gregor bent his head to his hands and Karlov resumed his pacing. After a

while Gregor looked up.

"Private vengeance. You begin your rule with private vengeance."

"The vengeance of a people. All the breed. Did France stop at Louis? Do

we tear up the roots of the poisonous toadstool that killed someone we

loved and leave the other toadstools thriving?"

"To cure the world of all its ills by tearing up the toadstools and the

flowers together--do you call that justice? The proletariat shall have

everything, and he begins by killing off noble and bourgeoisie and

dividing up the loot! Even with his oppression the noble had a right to

live. The bourgeoisie must die because of his benefactions to a people.

The world for the proletariat, and damnation for the rest!"

"Let each become one of us," cried Karlov, hoarsely. "We give them that

right."

"You lie! You have done nothing but assassinate them when they

surrendered. But tell me, have not you, Lenine, and Trotzky overlooked

something?"

"What?" Karlov was vaguely grateful for this diversion. The lust to kill

was still upon him and he was fighting it. He must remember that Gregor

wished to die. "What have we overlooked?"

"Human nature. Can you tear it apart and reconstruct it, as you would a

clock? What of creative genius in this proletariat millennium of yours?"

"The state will carefully mother that."

Gregor laughed sardonically. "Will there be creative genius under your

rule? Will you not suffocate it by taking away the air that energizes

it--ambition? You will have all the present marvels of invention to

start with, but will you ever go beyond? Have you read history and

observed the inexorable? I doubt it. What is progress? A series of

almost imperceptible steps."

"Which capitalism has always obstructed," flung back Karlov.