Summer 1997

A vacation schedule had taken hold – I take time off from mid-June to mid-July. Proma’s leadership goes on vacation starting August first. 

On June fifteenth, I set off for Europe with Liza. Officially, Liza was serving as translator. Turned out no translator was needed in Vienna. We walked around, rode the tram, drank some coffee. In Milan, a translator was absolutely unnecessary. Three days of shopping – dressing Liza up like a hooker – dragged on like a year. I sat on a little couch, forgotten by everyone, and pondered: how could anyone spend days picking out clothes? A year ago I’d outfitted myself for a decade ahead in a single hour.

Well, a girl’s a different animal – a different stream of consciousness: I want something, but exactly what – impossible to put into words. Show me what you’ve got, and I’ll try things on and express myself through withdrawals from my man’s card.

After the shopping we set off for Genoa, the capital of the European merchants... snag! At the exit from the Genova Piazza Principe station we were met by Zhorik, who demanded we sail immediately, the yacht was in the roadstead.

The yacht turned out to be a genuine tub: three cabins and a lounge. Zhora explained that showing off was pointless – the suckers had dried up last year, and it’d be at least five years before new ones showed up! Time to formalize ownership of everything we’d squeezed out. Off to Nice!

The houses were being registered in different jurisdictions. One set of papers on entering into the rights of a homeowner I signed in Nice. To sign the second, Liza and I flew to Gatwick, and from there to Royal Tunbridge Wells, county of Kent. There Liza’s skills came in fully useful. For two days we knocked about in a classic English country hotel, the spitting image of «Fawlty Towers».

We finalized the ownership paperwork and flew to Barcelona, where Zhorik had arrived by yacht.

After that, tedium – we ended up on an island consisting of beer joints, discos and a wasted crowd. Zhora and Liza, unlike me, were inspired and dived into the whirl of parties from morning to morning. I trailed after them like a tail, observing the party animals. From the week’s stay I remember stunning sunrises, the snow-white beaches of the neighboring island and an incredible exhaustion.

On July fifteenth, as planned, I returned to Moscow. Took back the reins from Roma, Marina, and Kostya.

Good!

No urgent work. I could come into the office, bury myself in reports, and take stock of where and how the holding was moving. Only August gave me the chance to sit and think: where to go, how to develop.

After looking through fifty-odd papers I was stumped. The plants had started accepting Treasury Obligations as payment, which promised income without noise or dust! The real money in «Proma»’s accounts had dried up.

I drove to the «Sirena» to hash out the GKO subject with a big shot the generals had tipped me off about... and ran into Vladlen Georgievich, who had traded his ministry post for a place in the Presidential Administration. Vladlen rated the likelihood of trouble as negligible until the New Year, then at about fifty percent, and a year out – depending on what they agree with the Finance Ministry.

At the end of the conversation, he showed me, then pocketed, a napkin with a neatly written figure – $10,000, the fee for the consultation. Getting up from the table and heading for the exit, Vladlen tossed off: «For old times’ sake, my advice – stay out of it! Even short-term. Put it into production.»

Well now.

In half an hour, Vladlen had earned more than a month’s pay at Proma. He’d landed well. And me?

What was I supposed to do?

Obvious enough. Get Proma out of GKOs.

I drafted orders banning every arm of the holding from buying GKOs. In September, I handed the matter over to Yurik’s oversight.

By year’s end, the problem had resolved itself. We ordered everyone to dump GKOs within a week of receiving them. Suppliers got paid off in bonds at face value.

In November, I set off on a long-planned business raid: pairing our capabilities with the world’s most advanced ones. A simple route, checked a hundred times over and signed off by Ida: Marl – Mantua – Lyon – Dublin – Wilmington – Midland – Baton Rouge – Portland – Yokkaichi – Ulsan. Brought Liza along as translator on the round-the-world trip. 

A useless trip.

Mind-shattering.

I used to think the whole world wanted to partner with the enormous market I represented. But no. Turned out the world wanted to know how I could help some corporation enter the market and then vanish, as if I’d never been there at all.

What the hell kind of partnership is that? Piss off and stop blocking the light!

For the first time, I wished Zhorik were around. He’d have had a sharp, weighty answer for that!