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 AN INTERVIEW WITH GORSHIN (Part 12)



   By KATZMAREK(C)



   The two men passed through the wrought iron gates and up the cobbled
path to the portico.  They stood stiffly at attention after pulling the
bell.  Presently the ornate door opened and a man in Naval uniform stood
curiously eyeing the pair.

   "Commander Shtein, Lieutenant," one of the strangers said, "aide to
Admiral Afansiev of the Marine Ministry.  This is Inspector Rabin of the
local Police."

   "Commander," the Lieutenant saluted.  His eyes merely flicked to the
civilian, dismissing his presence as irrelevant.

   "We need an audience with Admiral Gorshin," the Commander explained,
"about a delicate matter."

   "Yes, sir.  Please make yourself comfortable in the drawing room.  I
will speak to the Admiral."

   The policeman tagged along behind the Naval officers, unbidden.  He was
used to dealing with the Navy on their territory and realised his limits.

   Presently the Admiral's secretary returned.

   "The Admiral is busy," he told the pair, "perhaps you can leave this
matter with me and I'll convey it to the Admiral when he's free."

   "Of course, Lieutenant," the Commander said, "an issue has been raised
by the Inspector here..." Neither Officer bothered looking in the
Policeman's direction this time.  "...concerning the alleged...  abduction
of a minor in Latvia, Lieutenant, by the Admiral's son, Senior Lieutenant
Yvgeny Gorshin."

   "I see," the Lieutenant looked at his hands.  "And what do the Police
consider is required to clear up this matter?"

   "Inspector?" the Commander asked.

   "Sir...  ah..." the Inspector began, "I believe there have been some
costs to the Latvian Police..."

   "How much?" snapped the Secretary, irritated.  He looked at the
Commander and saw him roll his eyes.

   "I believe the costs were...  some 1000 roubles."

   "And the local Police?"

   "Another 500, I understand."

   Wordlessly, the secretary disappeared and returned with a handful of
notes.  Peeling off several, he handed them to the Policeman who slipped
them into his coat.  With a slight tip of his head he allowed himself to be
shown the door.

   "Better tell the Admiral to keep those two out of the way for awhile,"
the Staff Officer said quietly to the Lieutenant, "just in case."

   "Yessir.  Have you received an invitation, sir?"

   "I'll be there.  I'm looking forward to it, good day!"

   From an upstairs window, Yvgeny, Katka and Admiral Gorshin watched the
two men walk back down the cobbled path.

   "You'll stay here until the wedding,"the Admiral told his son, sucking
in his breath, "stay out of the way of the Police, you hear?"

   "Yes, sir," Yvgeny told his Father.

   "You've been foolish, the pair of you," the Admiral went on, "I'm
surprised at you.  I didn't bring you up to be so impulsive."

   "You need to understand..."

   "Ho, you think I don't?  You think I'm that old that I don't remember?"

   ----------------------------------

   "He remembered," chuckled Admiral Yvgeny Ivanovich Gorshin, Hero of the
Soviet Union.  "I understand there was some controversy regarding how he
met my Mother.  But he had to go through the charade...  outrage,
disapproval.  That's what everyone expected of my Father.  He liked Katka,
though, liked her a great deal.  Reminded him of Mama, and of his youth."

   "So he allowed you two to live together?" asked the Ensign.

   "Well, she was permitted to remain in the mansion.  She had her own
room, of course, but she rarely stayed in it.  Hers adjoined mine...  we
had only a door between us and it was never locked."

   -----------------------------------

   When Katka and Yvgeny arrived to take sanctuary at the Kronshtadt Naval
Base they found the harbour chillingly devoid of shipping.  The Baltic
fleet had been, by all intents and purposes, destroyed.  The Battlefleet,
the heart of all Navies until the advent of the Aircraft Carrier, consisted
of only one Battleship, the Slava, last of the Suvurov class.  The
Tsesarevich, recently released from internment, would shortly double the
fleet's size.

   On the stocks at the Baltic Shipyards, two Battleships, begun in 1903
and held up by the labour troubles of 1905, were resuming work.  However,
the Pavel the First and the Andrej Pervozanni wouldn't join the fleet until
1910.

   In the Black Sea, the only modern Battleship was the Pantaleimon, the
former Potemkin.  Georg Pobedonosets, Sinope, Rotislav and Tri Sviatitelia,
four obsolete old crocks built in the early 1890s, made up the rest of the
squadron until about 1909 when the new-builds, Sviatitoi Evstafi and Ioann
Zlaloust, joined the fleet.

   The launch of HMS Dreadnought by the British in late 1905 began the
'Dreadnought Revolution.' The advent of the all big gun,
steam-turbine-driven battleship wrong-stepped the world's other navies.  It
wasn't until 1909 when Russia would begin a Dreadnought building program.
It wasn't scheduled for completion, however, until 1930 and by then events
had well and truly overtaken her.

   But in 1906, there was little employment available to the veterans of
the Battle of Tsushima.  There weren't any ships.

   -----------------------------------------

   "For two years," continued Admiral Gorshin, "we lived an idyllic life as
part of the Naval Reserve.  I had no duties, just as a Father to my
children and Husband to my beloved Katka.  The Summer of '08, I think, I
took my Captain's exam and was promoted Lieutenant-Commander a year later."

   "When were you given a command of your own?" asked the Ensign.

   "Beginning of '09, I believe.  My memory, you understand..."

   "Of course, Admiral.  The ship was?"

   "Um, Turbiniya, the Navy bought her off the French, second hand.  Steam
turbines...  31 knots, but she never did that speed the time I had her. 
Always breaking down, I remember.  'Turtle-back' fo'castle, shipped a lot
of water.  We called her 'Lemoniya'.  Suited me, because it was always on
the slipway being repaired.  I could spend more time at home with my
family."

   "Did you still have a passion, then, for Destroyers?  For the sea?" the
Ensign asked, having some suspicion he'd uncovered a chink in the Admiral's
armour.

   "Yes, I still enjoyed the life, but not the screw-ups at the Marine
Ministry.  Greed and corruption was very bad.  There was so much money
around, but no-one knew where it was going.  It wasn't going to operations
I can tell you, we had to beg for supplies."

   "Scandalous!"

   "Scandalous, yes," agreed the Admiral, "and things have improved so much
under the leadership of the Party, haven't they?"

   "Yes, of course," the Ensign said.  However, something in the old dog's
face indicated the statement was intended to be ironic.

   --------------------------------------------

   Russia was turning into a very different country than existed at the
turn of the century.  Rapid industrialisation, science, education, a middle
class, foreign investment and influence, and consumerism crashed head on
against a 1000-year-old Autocratic system of privilege, nobility and rigid
Orthodox Christianity.

   The 1900s was a good time for the burgeoning middle class, however. 
There was plenty of money, educational opportunities, jobs, and more things
to buy than at any time in Russia's history.  With that wealth and
education, though, was a demand for a proper representative Democracy.

   The many workers that had swarmed to the cities looking for work were
relatively content with their life at this time.  For all the overcrowding,
low wages and poor conditions, life was nevertheless preferable to life in
the 'mir.'

   Move out to the countryside and the 'other' Russia presented itself. 
Life in the 'mirs' of Russia had not changed with the times.  Life was
feudal, back-breaking and one season away from destitution.  The grain
fields were worked by peasants still tied to their old feudal landlords, by
poverty if not in fact.  The only outsider a peasant expected to encounter
was the travelling Orthodox priest, an integral part of the system that
oppressed him.  Agriculture in Russia was notoriously inefficient and
attempts at freeing up the system by well-meaning reforms had not made any
iota of difference.

   Not for nothing did the Tsar keep a large part of the immense Russian
Army on garrison duty, in Central Asia, the Trans-Caucasus and the Southern
Ukraine.  These areas could blow-up at any time.  Where the rivers Don and
Volga bent towards each other in Southern Russia, the Cossacks glowered at
the 'igoranoranti' (outsiders/immigrants) and waited for the chance to
drive them off the land.  Periodic outbreaks of Anti-Semitic violence drove
many Jewish communities West into Europe, and further West to America.

   But in 1906, as Yvgeny Gorshin and Katka Talsii prepared for their
wedding, life was full of pleasant expectations and deep passion.

   -------------------------------------------

   Katka's infectious giggling filled a room with sound not unlike the
crystal wind chimes Yvgeny's Mother was so fond of.  She laughed a lot,
these days, she was happy.

   That is, despite feeling sick sometimes during the day.  Dr Pavletich
told her it was normal for a woman at this stage of her 'condition' and
recommended marriage and an abstention from 'relations'.  It was commonly
believed that sex during the first month of a pregnancy had risks for the
child.

   They hadn't told anybody, even Yvgeny's parents, who, in any case,
preferred not to be told.  Yvgeny was fairly sure they knew anyway, his
Mother had a way of finding out things.  His Father said she was a witch
and knew what he was thinking before he even thought the thought.

   But this ban on sex for a month was going to be hard, he pondered. 
Since they boarded the night train to Riga, barely a day had passed that he
hadn't had his dick firmly wedged between her slim legs.  Any attempt to
'hold something back for the honeymoon' had been unsuccessful.

   For the first few nights after hearing the news, Katka had told him to,
'point it away from her.' Her hand had been clamped between her legs to
prevent 'accidents' and she'd asked him not to kiss her nipples and stroke
her arse because it 'excited' her.

   "Then I might not be able to stop!" she explained, "it's hard for me,
too!"

   But today had been a good day.  They'd been out sailing in the Admiral's
sloop, snuggled in the cockpit against the fresh breeze.  The Naval orderly
brought them lunch, afterwards, and they ate on the balcony watching the
ship movements at the Base across the water.  The afternoon had seen them
exploring along the mud shore to where the estuary begins to open out into
the Gulf of Finland.  Exhausted, they'd retired to their rooms early.  A
half an hour later, Katka had slipped into Yvgeny's room dressed in a long
dressing gown.

   They sat together on the two-seater beside the window.  Night was
falling earlier and an Autumn chill caused the gas-fires to be lit after
dinner.  Yvgeny had obtained a tin of English cigarettes, Capstan 'Navy
Cut,' which were growing in popularity in the Russian Navy.  He lit one and
passed it to Katka.  She didn't really like smoking but shared one with
Yvgeny occasionally to be social.

   Yvgeny had made a joke about sending her back to her parents, seven
months pregnant, with the story that, 'she didn't know who the Father was
but thought it might be a stoker from Smolensk.' She laughed so hard that
her chest shook and her breasts jiggled beneath her nightgown.

   "We could do that every year," he suggested, "and tell them it was a
Siberian mailman, a Bashkir basketmaker..."

   "Stop it!" she laughed, "you're making my ribs hurt!  Just because you
can't keep your trousers done up."

   "Nor can you keep your knees together, apparently."

   "I can so!" she replied in mock outrage, "you're a beast, you tore my
underwear!"

   "Once!  And I don't recall you complaining at the time, mmm?"

   "No...  maybe not!" A broad smile broke out over her face at the
recollection.

   "You didn't exactly push me off, did you?"

   "No." She smiled again and her hands fell to her thighs.

   "In fact, I recall you quite liked it."

   "Yes!" Her voice was thick, she absently rubbed her thighs.  "Yvgeny? 
I'm sorry we can't..."

   "I know," he kissed her on the mouth.

   "Because I miss it too...  making love." He kissed her again, longer. 
"I could do it right now," she added, whispering.

   "Me too," he whispered back.

   "But we can't."

   "I know!" He kissed her again, "unless..."

   "What?"

   "Unless we don't actually..." He kissed her on the throat, forehead and
cheek before seeking her lips once more.  "There are other ways to... 
without..."

   "Oh!" she replied with growing excitement, "you mean without actually
putting..."

   "Precisely!" His hands dipped between her legs then rubbed her thighs,
suggestively.  "I don't recall the Doctor saying that pleasure was off the
agenda, mmm?"

   "No, he didn't," she grinned.

   "For instance..." he said, rising.  Getting on his knees in front of
her, he ran his hands up her legs, pushing her knees apart.  Her dressing
gown parted to reveal her shift.  This he pushed up till her black bush
appeared.  Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and arousal as she
watched Yvgeny.

   "You be careful!" she warned.  "Oh!"

   His tongue descended between her thighs.  She started to giggle, then
cut herself off as he plunged through her dark pubic hair to discover her
moist slit.  His fingertips grazed the soft flesh of her inner thighs.  She
hissed in response, spreading her knees even wider.

   Yvgeny drew her to her feet and to the bed.  Still giggling, a habit she
had when excited, expectant or nervous, Katka shed her shift and sat, her
back against the pillows.  She watched him perch opposite her and noted the
expectant bulge tenting his underwear.

   "Wider," he grinned, stroking her legs.

   Katka had displayed herself for her lover many times.  A little nervous
at the attention on her most intimate place, neverthless, she became
aroused when Yvgeny's eyes gleamed with lust as he watched her.

   Several weeks ago her pussy had been a little sore and they'd tried
stimulating each other with their hands.  Yvgeny, however, couldn't find
the right pressure and speed to push her over the edge.  Similarly, her
fist had grown tired working his cock.  They'd tactily agreed to finish
themselves, legs enmeshed and cheek to cheek.

   Her pussy was sore because they'd fucked too vigourously the night
before.  She'd come explosively and her yelling threatened to fetch his
parents.  In the morning his Mother had shot disapproving glances at them.
His Father, the Admiral, however, had smiled slyly whenever he thought his
wife was not watching.

   But when she'd fingered herself Yvgeny had not been watching.  Katka was
so ready for his cock, though, that her fingers drifted down between her
legs of themselves.  She stopped playing with herself as Yvgeny bent to
kiss her.  Her fingertips lightly stroked his erection until he pushed down
his underpants and it sprang free, hard and ready.

   Her thoughts flashed to images of them pinned together, her feet locked
around him and her arms over his hard shoulders.  She felt his hot breath
on her cheek as his muscled arse slowly rose and fell, pushing himself
further and further inside her with every thrust.

   Their bodies were sticky with perspiration.  Katka thought of the
whispered endearments, the moans and groans, his tongue, his fingers
pinching her nipples to hardness.  Above all she thought of the streams of
hot liquid pulsing deep into her very core, the feel of his arse as she
held him within her.

   Now her fingers began to work.  Smiling, she bent forward and kissed the
tip of his knob.  She grinned mischievously as he sucked in his breath. 
Katka took another look of Yvgeny's cock, his fist wrapped around and
stroking, before she closed her eyes to concentrate on her own feeling.

   She sensed him looming over her watching every detail.  It embarrassed
and aroused, all at the same time.  This had been a solo act for her in the
privacy of her room, or maybe the bath, when Yvgeny was in the East
fighting for his life.  Now she was letting him see her playing,
shamelessly revealing her most intimate secrets.

   She felt a jolt of feeling and thrust herself up at him.  She took a
peek at him rubbing his big beautiful cock just for her.  She felt another
jolt and closed her eyes again.

   "Oh!"

   Yvgeny watched as she started to crest the hill.  Her lips were parted
and rasping out her breath.  Her chest heaved with the effort.

   "Oh!"

   Her nipples stuck straight up towards him, vibrating and jiggling with
her puffy little breasts.  Her tummy, now glowing with excitement, rippled
as another spasm shook her.

   "Oh!" She shook again, opened her eyes and exhaled her release.

   She watched him strain a shower of warm, white liquid that sprayed
across her body.  She grimaced in mock disgust until he fell on her,
kissing and cuddling.

   Two weeks later, on 'day 30' Yvgeny woke up and turned to his apparently
slumbering lover.  Her shaking shoulders betrayed her, however, and he
pulled the giggling Katka onto her back and fell on her, growling.

   -------------------------------------------

   "My Father gave me a 'talking to' later that day.  Katka had slipped
back to her room around 8 for when the maid called.  She told her she was
feeling poorly then, when the maid left, she slipped back to my room.  We
didn't rise until noon, far too obvious, far too indiscreet!" the Admiral
chuckled.

   -------------------------------------------

   The wedding was a large affair, thanks to the reputation of Yvgeny's
Father.  Many Tsushima veterans were there, including those recently
prisoners of the Japanese.

   Rhozdventsky showed up, as did Nebogatov.  The latter, Commander of the
Third Battleship Division which had surrendered, had been better treated by
the Japanese than by his own country.  Neither Admiral was prepared to
temper the joyousness of the occasion, however, and got thoroughly drunk.

   Rhozdventsky looked frail according to those closest to him.  Well over
six foot in height and sporting a long white beard, he'd lost weight and
looked gaunt and pale.  By contrast, the squat, 'bookish' Nebogatov wearing
his familiar spectacles and black beard, looked more like a Marine Ministry
Clerk than an Admiral.  His unusually high reedy voice made people feel
uneasy around him.  He had though, an ability to absorb alcohol in heroic
amounts with little apparent effect.

   Around 10.30pm, before things had grown disorderly, the Officer's 'boat
races' hadn't begun, and no-one had got up dancing on the tables, there was
a flurry of activity at the door.  A glittering Guards' Officer in full
dress marched into the middle of the room and announced in a booming voice,
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please your attention!  The Tsar!"

   Everyone fell on one knee in shock.  Instinctively, they bowed their
heads in the traditional genuflection expected for the Emperor of All the
Russias.  Tsar Nicholas strode purposefully into the room dressed as
Commander in Chief of the Navy.  Begging everyone to stand, he asked where
the happy couple were.

   Katka was on the point of fainting when the Tsar gently placed a kiss on
the back of her hand.  Her jaw sagged, her face was frozen in fright and
she leaned against Yvgeny for support.

   "Madam!" he smiled disarmingly, "may I wish you all the happiness. 
Charming!  You have here quite a catch, Lieutenant!" he turned to Yvgeny,
"congratulations, my boy.  I've heard of the service you performed,
Lieutenant, and We are grateful.  Such a fine Officer deserves such a
beautiful companion." He then moved on down the line, shaking hands.

   Yvgeny held Katka to the vertical as she swayed unsteadily.  Tsar
Nicholas stayed about 5 minutes, worked the room, then disappeared.  After
he'd gone, the room exploded in noise while Yvgeny lowered Katka to a
chair. She didn't speak for some time.

   "That was..." she gasped, eventually.

   "The Tsar," Yvgeny told her.

   "My God!"

   ------------------------------------------

   "Tsar Nicholas the Second?" recalled Admiral Gorshin, "was a charming
man who liked glittering occasions and ceremonies.  He took his role
seriously, as defender of the faith and Autocrat...  the good Father to his
children, that was the Tsar.  Couldn't understand why people turned against
him, after all, he only had their best interests at heart?  In the end,
governing Russia was too much for him.  He'd been raised in this bubble of
privilege, Faith and divine duty.  There were far too many conflicts,
paradoxes, inequalities for one man to handle."

   "A Despot?"

   "A Despot, yes, but that, he believed, was his duty to Russia. 
Personally, he was an easy man to like, however, and always knew the right
things to say to people.  His biggest mistake was keeping Russia in the
War...  of honouring his promises to the French and British.  But then,
no-one expected the War to last 4 years and cost so many lives...  no-one!"

   "But what of the repression, the OKRANA, the Cossacks..."

   "Remember Anarchists blew up Alexander the Third in his carriage? 
Nicholas was a worried man...  worried about his personal safety and that
of the Tsarina and his family...  He accepted that 'unruly elements' needed
to be excised from society.  He left that problem with the Generals and
they only knew one way to 'fix' it."

   "It's just as well," Gorshin added, "that the Revolution saved us from
Secret Police, arbitary arrests, suppression of dissent, 'midnight knocks,'
and mass killings.  It's as well the Worker's State saved us from all of
that!"

   "Yes, sir!" The Ensign squirmed uncomfortably.

   -----------------------------------------------

   The newlyweds honeymooned in Poti, on the Black Sea coast of Georgia. 
It was a five day journey by train in unparalleled luxury, a gift from the
Khlodovskys.

   Finally Yvgeny had met his sponsors, and the family of his friend,
Feodor.  Their mansion was just outside of St Petersburg, up the Neva
towards Lake Ladoga.  Here the countryside was thickly wooded with Baltic
Pine.  Red Deer and Siberian Elk had been carefully imported to the forests
so the privileged could slaughter them in 'hunting' expeditions.  The lake,
a stone's throw away, provided the wealthy with opportunities to practice
their sailing skills.

   Anitav Kyubyshiyev-Laptevskaya had not only an intimidating aristocratic
name but had been Feodor's bethrothed.  Yvgeny could understand why she
took his eye, she was startlingly pretty.

   In fact the match had been arranged while Feodor was still in his teens.
She was minor aristocracy, bred specifically to decorate the arm of major
aristocracy.  Yvgeny thought she shouldered her grief well, there was talk
she was being wooed by none other than the grandson of Prince Ukhtomsky
himself.

   She was raised in the tight cloistered world of the nobility and knew,
and cared, little for the World outside.  She could converse in French and
English, but hadn't a clue about those countries.  Yvgeny wondered how the
worldly Feodor could possibly put up with her trivial prattle.  He supposed
she'd have needed to be very accomplished in bed to keep his interest.

   Feodor's Father, however, had been devastated by the loss of his only
son.  Morose and fatalistic, he predicted disaster for the Russia he knew.
He had no faith in reforms, the leadership, nor the Police and Army to
control the coming Armageddon.  With remarkable foresight, he predicted
that a revolution would sweep away the aristocracy, a terror would last a
couple of years, then a 'Napoleon' would rise up from the Army's ranks and
restore order.

   "A while later, perhaps ten years, the Dictator will be overthrown and a
Democracy put in place...  just like the French.  Before that, however, the
'Jacobins' will embark on an orgy of killing...  no-one with any money, or
title will be safe.  Read the signs and get the Hell out, Yvgeny...  my
advice...  there'll be no place for Officers, they'll be purged like the
rest of us."

   He then offered to open a trust fund for Yvgeny and Katka with an
American Bank.

   "There'll be a tidy sum there...  for your needs, should you have use of
it."

   "That's very generous, sir, but..."

   "It will be there!" he said firmly, "Feodor thought very highly of
you..." He began to choke up with tears, "...  he said you were a brother
to him.  Now," he sobbed, "I have no children...  you must be my son..."

   Yvgeny left the mansion staggered by the depth of grief the Count
displayed, by his 'adoption' into the Khlodovsky family and by the future
he predicted.

   -------------------------------------------

   "Ever since that day, the Khlodovskys got money to me.  Even when the
Communists changed the currency, it still arrived, in New Roubles, American
Dollars, British Pounds...."

   "Sir, ah, what did you do with it all?"

   "What could I do, send it back?  I tried that, but it just returned.  I
visited Karlskrona in Sweden in 1926 on my flagship, the Light Cruiser
Tcherchnaya Ukrainiya and was given a bag containing $US50,000 by a Swedish
Official!  The money came from everywhere...  I tell you, it was very
embarrassing sometimes, and very dangerous."

   "Sir, if you'd gone to the West, you'd have been a very rich man."

   "Yes.  But I did the next best thing, I joined the Communist Party."

   "I don't understand."

   Yvgeny grinned at the young man.

   ------------------------------------------

   Poti featured sun-drenched beaches, Lidos, spas, 24 hour parties and
debauchery.  In 1907 it was the playground of the rich and famous.  Its
hotels were considered to be some of Europe's most lavish.  Like Dubrovnik
on the coast of Dalmatia, it was a place where Europe and Asia mingled to
play, cement deals, get boozed and fuck themselves silly.  Turkish 'Agas'
with their trains of servants flocked there for the cheap and plentiful
alcohol and willing European women.

   It was a profound shock to Katka.  From a rural province on the fringe
of Russia, she'd never encountered anything like this in her life.  For
Yvgeny, however, there was a familiar feel to the place.

   There was a small Naval base nearby, a popular posting for units of the
Black Sea fleet.  Several Admiral's yachts found themselves anchored in the
bay, apparently keeping watch on the Tsar's enemies just over the border.

   Yvgeny hired a sloop and they went out sailing.  Katka liked it out on
the water.  She was even persuaded to go skinny-dipping, at night and in a
little bay just North of the Turkish border.  She looked up from the water
at her husband's naked body.  He was standing grinning at the rail, bathed
in moonlight, and she thought that life was too good to be true.
   KATZMAREK(c)