SUMMIT
by
MACK REYNOLDS
Illustrated by Freas
_Almost anything, if it goes on long enough, can be reduced to, first aRoutine, and then, to a Tradition. And at the point it is, obviously,Necessary._
Two king-sized bands blared martial music, the "_Internationale_" andthe "Star-Spangled Banner," each seemingly trying to drown the other ina _Goetterdaemmerung_ of acoustics.
Two lines of troops, surfacely differing in uniforms and in weapons, butbasically so very the same, so evenly matched, came to attention. Athousand hands slapped a thousand submachine gun stocks.
Marshal Vladimir Ignatov strode stiff-kneed down the long march, thestride of a man for years used to cavalry boots. He was flanked byfrozen visaged subordinates, but none so cold of face as he himself.
At the entrance to the conference hall he stopped, turned and waited.
At the end of the corridor of troops a car stopped and several figuresemerged, most of them in civilian dress, several bearing brief cases.They in their turn ran the gantlet.
At their fore walked James Warren Donlevy, spritely, his eyes dartinghere, there, politician-like. A half smile on his face, as though afraidhe might forget to greet a voter he knew, or was supposed to know.
His hand was out before that of Vladimir Ignatov's.
"Your Excellency," he said.
Ignatov shook hands stiffly. Dropped that of the other's as soon asprotocol would permit.
The field marshal indicated the door of the conference hall. "There islittle reason to waste time, Mr. President."
"Exactly," Donlevy snapped.
* * * * *
The door closed behind them and the two men, one uniformed andbemedaled, the other nattily attired in his business suit, turned toeach other.
"Nice to see you again, Vovo. How're Olga and the baby?"
The soldier grinned back in response. "Two babies now--you don't keep upon the _real_ news, Jim. How's Martha?" They shook hands.
"Not so good," Jim said, scowling. "I'm worried. It's that new cancer.As soon as we conquer one type two more rear up. How are you peopledoing on cancer research?"
Vovo was stripping off his tunic. He hung it over the back of one of thechairs, began to unbutton his high, tight military collar. "I'm notreally up on it, Jim, but I think that's one field where you can trustanything we know to be in the regular scientific journals our peopleexchange with yours. I'll make some inquiries when I get back home,though. You never know, this new strain--I guess you'd call it--might beone that we're up on and you aren't."
"Yeah," Jim said. "Thanks a lot." He crossed to the small portable bar."How about a drink? Whisky, vodka, rum--there's ice."
Vovo slumped into one of the heavy chairs that were arranged around thetable. He grimaced, "No vodka, I don't feel patriotic today. How aboutone of those long cold drinks, with the cola stuff?"
"Cuba libra," Jim said. "Coming up. Look, would you rather speakRussian?"
"No," Vovo said, "my English is getting rusty. I need the practice."
Jim brought the glasses over and put them on the table. He beganstripping off his own coat, loosening his tie. "God, I'm tired," hesaid. "This sort of thing wears me down."
Vovo sipped his drink. "Now there's as good a thing to discuss as any,in the way of killing time. The truth now, Jim, do you really believe ina God? After all that's happened to this human race of ours, do youreally believe in divine guidance?" He twisted his mouth sarcastically.
The other relaxed. "I don't know," he said. "I suppose so. I was raisedin a family that believed in God. Just as, I suppose, you were raised inone that didn't." He lifted his shoulders slightly in a shrug. "Neitherof us seems to be particularly brilliant in establishing a position ofour own."
Vovo snorted. "Never thought of it that way," he admitted. "We'reusually contemptuous of anyone still holding to the old beliefs. Therearen't many left."
"More than you people admit, I understand."
Vovo shook his heavy head. "No, not really. Mostly crackpots. Have youever noticed how it is that the nonconformists in any society areusually crackpots? The people on your side that admit belonging to ourorganizations, are usually on the wild eyed and uncombed hair side--Iadmit it. On the other hand, the people in our citizenry who subscribeto your system, your religion, that sort of thing, are crackpots, too.Applies to religion as well as politics. An atheist in your country is anonconformist--in mine, a Christian is. Both crackpots."
Jim laughed and took a sip of his drink.
Vovo yawned and said, "How long are we going to be in here?"
"I don't know. Up to us, I suppose."
"Yes. How about another drink? I'll make it. How much of that cola stuffdo you put in?"
Jim told him, and while the other was on his feet mixing the drinks,said, "You figure on sticking to the same line this year?"
"Have to," Vovo said over his shoulder. "What's the alternative?"
"I don't know. We're building up to a whale of a depression as it is,even with half the economy running full blast producing defensematerials."
Vovo chuckled, "Defense materials. I wonder if ever in the history ofthe human race anyone ever admitted to producing _offense_ materials."
"Well, you call it the same thing. All your military equipment is fordefense. And, of course, according to your press, all ours is foroffense."
"Of course," Vovo said.
He brought the glasses back and handed one to the other. He slumped backinto his chair again, loosened two buttons of his trousers.
"Jim," Vovo said, "why don't you divert more of your economy to publicworks, better roads, reforestation, dams--that sort of thing."
Jim said wearily, "You're a better economist than that. Didn't your boyMarx, or was it Engels, write a small book on the subject? We're alreadyoverproducing--turning out more products than we can sell."
"I wasn't talking about your government building new steel mills. Butdams, roads, that sort of thing. You could plow billions into such itemsand get some real use out of them. We both know that our weapons willnever be used--they can't be."
Jim ticked them off on his fingers. "We already are producing more farmproducts than we know what to do with; if we build more dams it'll openup new farm lands and increase the glut. If we build more and betterroads, it will improve transportation, which will mean fewer men will beable to move greater tonnage--and throw transportation employees intothe unemployed. If we go all out for reforestation, it will eventuallybring down the price of lumber and the lumber people are howlingalready. No," he shook his head, "there's just one really foolproof wayof disposing of surpluses and using up labor power and that's war--hotor cold."
Vovo shrugged, "I suppose so."
"It amounts to building pyramids, of course." Jim twisted his mouthsourly. "And since we're asking questions about each other's way oflife, when is your State going to begin to _wither away_?"
"How was that?" Vovo asked.
"According to your sainted founder, once you people came to power theState was going to wither away, class rule would be over, and Utopia beon hand. That was a long time ago, and your State is stronger thanours."
Vovo snorted. "How can we wither away the State as long as we arethreatened by capitalist aggression?"
Jim said, "Ha!"
Vovo went on. "You know better than that, Jim. The only way myorganization can keep in power is by continually beating the drums,keeping our people stirred up to greater and greater sacrifices by usingyou as a threat. Didn't the old Romans have some sort of maxim to theeffect that when you're threatened with unease at home stir up troubleabroad?"
"You're being even more frank than usual," Jim said. "But that's one ofthe pleasures of these get-togethe
rs, neither of us resorts tohypocrisy. But you can't keep up these tensions forever."
"You mean _we_ can't keep up these tensions forever, Jim. And when theyend? Well, personally I can't see my organization going out without ablood bath." He grimaced sourly, "And since I'd probably be one of thefirst to be bathed, I'd like to postpone the time. It's like having atiger by the tail, Jim. We can't let go."
"Happily, I don't feel in the same spot," Jim said. He got up and wentto the picture window that took up one entire wall. It faced out over amountain vista. He looked soberly into the sky.
Vovo joined him, glass in hand.
"Possibly your position isn't exactly the same as ours but there'll besome awfully great changes if that military based economy of yourssuddenly had peace thrust upon it. You'd have a depression such asyou've never dreamed of. Let's face reality, Jim, neither of us canafford peace."
"Well, we've both known that for a long time."
* * * * *
They both considered somberly, the planet Earth blazing away, a smallsun there in the sky.
Jim said, "I sometimes think that the race would have been better off,when man was colonizing Venus and Mars, if it had been a jointenterprise rather than you people doing one, and we the other. If it hadall been in the hands of that organization ..."
"The United Nations?" Vovo supplied.
"... Then when Bomb Day hit, perhaps these new worlds could have gone onto, well, better things."
"Perhaps," Vovo shrugged. "I've often wondered how Bomb Day started. Whostruck the spark."
"Happily there were enough colonists on both planets to start the raceall over again," Jim said. "What difference does it make, who struck thespark?"
"None, I suppose." Vovo began to button his collar, readjust hisclothes. "Well, shall we emerge and let the quaking multitudes know thatonce again we have made a shaky agreement? One that will last until thenext summit meeting."
THE END.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note
In two places in the text the word "reforestration" was corrected to"reforestation."