Suspense.
In these last hours of my life, I wonder, how will I be remembered?
I think of what Engel said when Karl Marx died, with his death, mankind is shorter by
a head.
I wonder what will be said of me.
It is through his books that Marx is remembered, while I, I have been a man of action, not
of words.
So will I be forgotten, or worse still, will I be remembered only in the writings of bourgeois
journalists who already have distorted my motives and minimized my importance in the
revolutionary movement?
Especially in regard to the action I undertook in St. Basil's Cathedral on the eve of the
New Year.
It is only Olga Karolska they write about, vastly exaggerating the role she plays.
Olga Karolska.
Why, she was a political ignoramus, a victim of every bourgeois superstition.
She was nothing, a zero, a puppet controlled by me.
Olga believed that she was in love with me.
I encouraged her in that illusion.
She might prove valuable to me, since she worked as a servant in the household of Prince
Ogarest.
On Sundays, when she was allowed a few hours for herself, she invariably came to spend
the time with me, in my room near the university.
Boris, Boris, it's nearly dark.
Oh, you're leaving?
Make sure the door is latched, there is a draft up those stairs.
That all you have to say, no goodbye, nothing, you're like a stone.
I would prefer steel.
Sometimes I think I should stop coming here to see you.
Perhaps you should.
Boris, if I didn't come, what would you do?
I would read the newspapers from Geneva a day earlier.
What if it was because I loved someone else?
You think I would be jealous?
You take me for granted.
Just as Prince Ogarest took his wife for granted.
Now, have they quarreled again?
Has she locked him out of the room again?
Worse, he's left him this time.
I thought she was only spending a few days at court.
Oh, it'll be more than a few days.
She's madly in love with the Tsar, and he with her.
And Wednesday she sent for her clothes and to wood, and sent a letter to Prince Ogarest.
Only you could have seen his face when he left.
His valuable property is stolen by the Tsar.
Of what a dilemma?
He can't even complain to the police.
No, Boris, he loves his wife.
Just as he loves his horses and his serfs.
Oh, you wouldn't say that if you saw how he looked.
Oh, if you heard him calling on God to bring her back to him, threatening to kill the Tsar.
When did he do that?
He was facing up and down, muttering to himself, I overheard him.
He really meant it.
I'm sure of that.
What makes you think so?
Well, yesterday when I was dusting his study, he said some strange things to me.
He talked about the Tsar's father, about how he'd been assassinated.
He said he thought the terrorists who killed him were very brave men.
I didn't answer, though, he seemed to expect me to.
I was afraid he'd heard that my uncle was one of the terrorists.
Of course, he was trying to make contact with our organization through you.
Why didn't you speak up?
I was afraid.
And besides, what good would it do?
That's not up to you.
Now listen, this week, the first moment you are alone with the Prince,
tell him about your uncle, and tell him you know someone he might like to meet.
Who?
A nihilist and a member of the executive committee, me.
You're boring.
It could be dangerous for you.
Possibly, but without danger, the game grows cold.
You understand.
I want you to bring him here.
No, no, I won't.
Oh, what were you saying a few moments ago, Olga, that you should stop coming here to see me?
You know I didn't mean it.
Maybe you did, because you aren't going to come here anymore, Olga,
unless you bring Prince Ogorev with you next Sunday.
Music
During the week, I began to devise a plan, a simple, daring plan,
which would mean glory for me and an end of tyranny in Russia.
On Sunday, I waited impatiently.
It was mid-afternoon before they arrived.
Boris, this is Prince Ogorev.
How do you do?
Come in, excellency.
Olga, I think the Prince would prefer to talk to me privately.
Yes, I suppose so.
May I come back a little later, Boris?
If you like.
Come in, excellency.
Thank you.
Olga said that you wanted to meet me.
And to meet you, Prince Ogorev, a man who has only to express the wish to one of your servants?
Come now, you are here because you wanted to meet me.
I assure you, I've never heard your name until...
There is no need to waste time.
You are here because you and I desire the same end.
End?
We both want to kill the Tsar.
Oh, no, no.
You don't want to kill the Tsar?
Then we have nothing to talk about.
Oh, no, I do want to kill him.
Excellent. Maybe we can join forces.
But first, I would like to understand you better.
For instance, why do you want to kill the Tsar?
For the same reason as you.
For Russia. For the Russian people.
To free them from his tyranny.
Ah, yes, and you have great love for the Russian people.
Of course.
And you thought about this? You have a plan?
No, not really. You see, I thought that you...
I maybe have more experience.
Yes, that's true enough.
But still, you must have considered where and when.
If not how, and by whom.
I only know it won't be easy.
He's always a heavy-garten.
Yes, our beloved Tsar, our little father,
who fears his people so much, he never lets them see him.
Because of what happened to his father.
He has a terror of assassination.
And well, he should.
Now, since you have come here without a plan,
let me tell you mine.
A plan to kill not only the Tsar, but his entire court.
The cream of the aristocracy with one blow.
How?
In St. Basil's Cathedral, on the eve of the New Year.
Oh, no.
The cathedral is cleared for the midnight mass.
No common people are allowed inside, only members of the court.
I am told that the Tsar waits until the last moment,
and then enters the cathedral secretly, through a private passage.
I tell you, it's not possible.
With 60 pounds of melanite strategically placed at three central pillars,
we can bring down the cathedral dome.
Not a soul will escape.
But you don't seem to approve.
I hadn't thought of killing so many.
A few hundred aristocrats?
Do they matter?
Think of what you will be doing for the millions of Russian people whom you say you love.
You think I don't?
I doubt if you can, since you are not one of them.
But actually, that's not important.
Revolutions aren't born out of love, but out of hate.
And you think I don't hate?
Perhaps you do.
I am told that your wife is an exceptionally beautiful woman.
Then you knew.
So that's your revolution, Prince Zogorov, set off by jealousy?
Haven't you ever lost someone you love?
I have never loved and never will.
Because I know that to love is to surrender.
To hate is to continue the battle.
Now, do we understand each other?
Yes.
Yes, we do, Prince Adam.
We have many things to discuss.
It was then, two weeks before the eve of the New Year,
Prince Zogorov and I met several times again to complete our plans.
In my room, on the street, in the library of the university.
Then I'll have to get a melanite?
Yes, they won't question an aristocrat.
But if they should ask?
If they needed for work on your estate in the country,
to blast out the stems or to widen the channel of the stream.
Ah, the explosive caps.
I won't need you for anything else, Prince Zogorov, until the final night.
And then?
You and I will meet once more for the last time.
Besides the prince, I needed two other confederates,
a man and a woman.
Naturally, I had already decided on Olga Korozska.
And the following Sunday, I told her my plan.
No, no, Boris.
You aren't willing to take the risk?
Willing or not, you know, I do whatever you say.
But I beg you, not the cathedral.
It won't be nearly as dangerous as you think.
I wouldn't care if it were the opera house or the palace,
but if we destroy the cathedral...
You're afraid of the wrath of God?
Well, I'll take full responsibility and you will be absolved of all guilt.
No, I'm afraid for you, for your soul, not mine.
My soul? What is a soul?
Olga Korozska, you come from a revolutionary family,
yet you allow yourself to be drugged by this opiate of religion?
We don't know for sure. If there is a God...
If there is, my soul will be damned.
But after this life in Russia, hell can't be any worse.
Now I needed to find the right man,
someone passive like Olga, someone in awe of me,
a man who preferred to follow rather than to leave.
A man such as Sergei Lemna.
Sergei was colorless and flyable, like a blob of wax,
ready to be molded into any shape.
He worked at the university as a tutor,
and like all scholars in our enlightened society,
he was ragged and heart-starved.
I looked him up, bought him a meal,
and then while he was still warm with gratitude,
I unfolded my plan.
And I am to pretend I'm a merchant from Riga?
Yes, now listen carefully.
While I tell you again, step by step,
I will bring you the clothes, not too elegant, not too shabby,
and some second-hand suitcases.
Then you will go to the house just opposite the cathedral
and rent the apartment.
The front apartment facing the square?
Yes, yes. You will say that you have just come from Riga on business.
And that my wife will join me in a few days?
Yes, yes. Olga will be there in a week from today.
The following night, I will come with the final instruction.
The Last Supper
When I went to the apartment Sergei had rented,
it was three days before the New Year.
Olga and Sergei were awaiting with all the equipment.
The tubes of melanite, the wire, the metal hooks, the drill,
the explosive caps, the electric key.
Olga, playing the part of the merchant's wife,
was wearing a new dress and cloak.
Do I look all right, Boris?
Take off those flowers. No real lady would wear them.
Oh, now?
Yes, you will do. Now listen carefully.
The cathedral is nearly empty tonight.
In a few minutes, mass will begin.
Olga, you will take the wire, wind it under your cloak, around your waist.
Sergei, you and I, we will take each ten tubes of melanite.
Both of you will go directly to the chapel at the right of the main altar.
There is a curtain alcove where you can hide.
What about you?
I will have to come back here for the rest of the explosives.
Then I will join you in the alcove.
When everyone is left, we will make our preparations.
It will take us about an hour.
And then we come back here?
No, the cathedral will be locked up.
We will have to stay there until morning.
Olga, why are you shivering? Are you cold?
I didn't know we would have to stay there all night.
Does it matter? I intend to sleep.
But if you like, you can spend the night praying for our success.
No one paid any attention to us as we crossed the snow-covered square.
There was no wind, and the air was filled with a raw freezing mist.
I think there is going to be another storm.
Yes, it will be snowing by morning.
Just as I hoped.
They have begun the mass.
Yes, now remember, go directly to the chapel and pay no attention to me.
Oh, boy.
Quickly, go in quickly.
Olga, don't stand there staring.
It's black.
Go on.
Yes, I'm going.
Boris, cross yourself. I beg you, cross yourself.
Who will go on in?
Dear Heavenly Father, have mercy on us.
For what we mean to do, have mercy on him, have mercy on him.
Olga and Sergius Lemn went unnoticed into the darkened chapel to the right of the main altar,
while I went the opposite way to an icon on the east wall.
There I hit the drill and the tubes of melanite in a recess behind the icon,
then knelt for a few moments, pretending to pray.
I laughed to myself, thinking how Olga had prayed to God for mercy.
If God did exist, he would show us no mercy, for we were Russians, and all of Russia is under a curse.
When I came back to the cathedral with the rest of the melanite, I too went to the chapel.
Olga and Sergius went the altars behind the altar where the priests prepared the Eucharist,
and I crowded in beside them.
How much longer?
Can't you hear?
I can't tell. I haven't gone to church for years.
I haven't since my mother died.
It's not over.
The mass ended, the people left by ones and twos, then the priests and the acolytes.
Finally, we were alone in the vast cathedral, lit only by flickering candles on the altar and under the icons.
Boris, I'm afraid.
We'll put ten of the tubes under the seat next to the front pillar.
That's where the Tsar will sit.
Then ten more opposite, and the last ten near that pillar in the middle.
Is that what the hooks are for, to thrash the tubes under the seat?
That's right. That's your job.
Olga, start unwinding the wire. Sergius, fasten the hooks.
I will connect the explosive caps.
When the melanite was all in place, the explosive caps connected.
We ran a wire under a row of seats, fastening it so that it could not be seen.
At the end of the seats, a tapestry covered the wall.
We ran the wire behind the tapestry up to a small window.
Then I lifted Sergius up to push the window open.
It's open all the way.
That's enough. Do you have the wire?
Yes.
Good. Do you see that drainpipe outside?
Yes.
Can you reach it with the auger?
I think so, yes.
Drill a hole in the pipe.
Then feed the wire into it, enough to reach the ground.
When our work was done, we went back to the alcove and sat huddled together on the floor.
After a time I slept. I had no dreams.
Everything worked in our favor.
In the morning when we left the cathedral it was snowing hard.
We stayed in the apartment all day.
That night I watched from the window until the square was almost deserted.
Then I went out alone to finish our work.
Snow was still falling heavily.
A soft, silent curtain of whiteness that blotted out my footprints and hid me from any passerby.
I went to the drainpipe, reached up and found the wire and pulled it out.
I fastened the end to another coil of wire which I unrolled across the square, methodically stamping it down into the snow.
I then brought the end of the coil through the window of the apartment.
Is it done?
It's done. Tomorrow, just after midnight, Russia will be in our hands.
Until then?
You and Olga stay here. I'll be back tomorrow evening after a final meeting with Prince Ogareth.
Come in, Prince Ogareth.
Well?
The Tsar will attend the midnight mass with his ministers and the crowd.
You're quite sure?
Quite sure.
Just now when I came through the square they were already putting up the ropes to keep back the crowd.
Yes, they will jam the square just to stare at the building where they know the Tsar is kneeling to pray.
Well, we're going to show them how his prayers are going to be answered.
Yes.
What's wrong with you?
This is filthy work.
Revolutions aren't made with rose water?
No, I suppose not. At least my wife has gone to spend the New Year at our estate in the country.
Good. Then you won't be distracted from the last thing you have to do.
Now, we'll have no way of knowing when the Tsar enters the cathedral since he won't face the crowd in the square.
So Sergius Lem will wait outside below the steps.
When the Tsar arrives and the mass has begun, come out and tell Sergius. He will bring the word to me.
At eleven that night, Sergius left the apartment and made his way through the rope barrier below the cathedral steps.
Olga and I waited together in the apartment. There was only one light, a single kerosene lamp standing near the gleaming electric key.
Olga walked up and down, her shadow leaping on the wall. I stood at the window, looking out.
They are lighting the bonfires.
Bonfires?
All around the square. I saw them piling up the wood this afternoon.
What a crowd. They can scarcely get the slaves through.
Boris, are you sure there's no other way?
To do what?
To free the people.
If I knew of another way, I would still choose this one.
I was afraid you'd say that. The thought of power has already changed you. In destroying this tyrant, you will become one yourself.
I am not a Tsar. I am the son of a peasant, one of a people.
Not after tonight. If you do this, it will set you apart from everyone.
Olga, if you're trying to say you want to leave...
No, no, I'll stay as long as you need me.
Look at the milling like cattle. Yes, cattle.
Boris, do you love me? You have never said it.
What?
I keep thinking if I knew there was love between you and me, I wouldn't mind so much.
Women always talking about love.
Then you can't say it.
Do I have to? Don't you know?
Listen, the mass has started. But where is Prince Ogoreff?
Maybe the Tsar isn't there yet.
They wouldn't have started without him.
He may have decided not to come.
Ah, there. There is the prince now, coming down the steps.
The fool. Can't he see Sergius?
He's not looking for Sergius. He's coming here.
The fool? I warned him not to. Someone will see him.
Well, I don't have to wait for him. I know the Tsar must be there.
Boris, you don't know. Something may have gone wrong.
Wait for Prince Ogoreff. A few more moments can't make any difference.
He's halfway here.
Running like a madman, doesn't he know that people are staring?
Boris, something must have happened.
Quickly, go let him in. Get him inside.
Excellency, this way.
Well?
My wife is in the cathedral.
The Tsar? What about the Tsar?
Yes, he's there. She came with him.
Then she lied about going to the country.
Yes, to save my feelings. She didn't want to hurt me.
But she did. And so history has been changed.
No, don't touch the key.
Boris, no.
You can't. You can't do it now.
Because of your wife you precipitate a revolution.
Now because of her you want to bring it to a halt.
I'll kill the Tsar myself. I'll go back to the cathedral and kill him openly.
Even if you could, it is not enough.
Boris, be merciful.
The merciful, Ivan the Terrible, Peter the Strumpered Catherine,
for centuries they have strangled the people.
Not all of them.
Not my wife.
You want me to turn back now to save one woman?
Love her.
Can the people eat your love?
Will it put clothes on their backs?
Think if it was your wife.
I have no wife.
If it was someone you love.
I told you once, Prince Ogareff, I can't afford the luxury of love.
Boris, if I were in the cathedral, what would you do?
I would press the key.
You wouldn't.
There's no one I wouldn't sacrifice to destroy the tyrant who strangled the people.
Olga, come back here.
She's going to tell the police.
No, she will only walk about in the snow wringing her hands for a while
and then she will be coming crawling back here because she's weak like you.
Her will has been destroyed by love.
So now...
No!
Nothing happened.
You pushed the key and nothing happened.
Boris.
What have you done?
I broke the wire.
You will never find it in the snow.
You broke the...
No, put down the gun.
She was right.
I did it for your sake, Boris.
To save you from committing murder.
To save your soul.
You're a sick body.
You're without love.
With all my heart I love and pity you.
Pity?
Nietzsche once said,
the fundamental fault of the female character is that it has no sense of justice.
It was true of Olga Karolska when she put what she called love above everything else.
It was a glorious plan.
It failed because of her.
And now they are coming for me.
Boris Kriabin.
Yes.
I'm ready.
Come with me.
Olga said she did it for me.
To save me from murder.
Didn't she know that she forced me to murder her?
And she said she pitted me.
What did she mean?
Why should she pity me?
No.
I'm not ready to die yet.
I can't die before I know what she meant.
Halt!
No.
Olga.
Don't let them kill me.
Not yet.
Tell them there is so much I don't know.
So much I have to learn.
Tell them.
Ready!
Olga!
Fire!
Suspense.
We'll meet again next week when we bring you another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
The End