Since the Second World War, the fertility rate has decreased. In order to increase the number of newborns, the Soviet government legalized illegitimate children and assigned houses to new couples and changed the marriage law to improve the status of women.

The Soviet Union marriage law states that

1. if the couple divorced, the man's house, savings, and furniture all belonged to the woman, and only the car could go to the man (including premarital property). 2. if the couple divorced, the custody of the offspring also belonged to the mother, and if the wife remarried, the man's offspring could no longer take the name of the former husband. 3. the wife had the absolute right to manage the marital property. The man's marital income needs to be paid in full; 4. A man who domestically abuses his wife, even if it is an unintentional act when he is drunk, is subject to arrest.

As a result, the marriage law favored the woman with legalized illegitimate children leading to a reduction in men's willingness to marry. Also, the small size of the allocated Khrushchev building led to women's dissatisfaction. Women's rights advocates accused the Soviet government of misogyny.

By the 1970s, the Soviet Union's reproductive policy was deriving a large cost. In 1970, the birth rate had declined to 1.

"Should the marriage law be reworked, or... do you have any ideas?" Romanov asked, rubbing his weary eyes.

"Well, what about a hybrid system, where the state takes an equity stake in the establishment of the family?"

"I'm not exactly a fan of that idea," said Romanov. "It seems at odds with the concept of the state being secular and all."

"But if it were a system where the state helped financially with child rearing, or if the state paid a certain sum of money for each child then I could see more appeal in it," said Tregubova.

"Yeah, add another few tens of billions of rubles to the budget expenditures there! You might as well let me go bankrupt."

"Well, we can't have that. So, maybe we should consider other ideas."

Romanov thought about it and said, "We should also create centralized residential areas for small villas to replace the Khrushchev House, and at the same time, adopt orphans and abandoned children from Eastern European countries such as Romania."

"I like that idea, and I'm pretty sure the members of the Central Committee will as well," said Tregubova. "Let's give it some time and see what else we come up with."

"Very well. In the meantime, I think we should meet with the delegates from other communist countries and discuss what we can do to improve our situation."

"And who will we be making these pacts with?" asked Tregubova.

"Well, we won't be making deals with the devil, if that's what you're getting at." Romanov put down his pen and said, "By the way, did you agree to my previous request?"

"I'm still thinking about it, but I generally tend to agree to most things you request."

Romanov nodded: "I trust you will agree to help me tap the Politburo, by the way, have you found the girl who can be responsible for contacting the Baltic Bank in Leningrad?"

"Oh, yes, the Leningrad girl. I've already managed to set up a meeting between you and her."

"Excellent. Get on it."

"And what about my dream of becoming a full member of the Central Committee?"

"I'll help you, in a few years, you're still too young."

"Oh, thank you!"

"Think nothing of it. Now, you should go and have a good rest, you've been very very tired recently."

Tregubova looked at Romanov with a raised eyebrow. "Have I?"

"Indeed," said Romanov. "Now, what was the Leningrad girl's name? Full name and age."

Tregubova's face colored slightly and she said, "I hope you're not planning on forcing me to disclose that information to you."

"Of course not. Now, said."

"Dmitri Ulapala," said Tregubova with some defiance, "age 22, full name pronounced 'Dmitri Ulapala'," she spelled out, looking at Romanov. "You can ask her to meet with you. She'll be in the room next to the one that the Leningrad delegates are in."

"Perfect. Get her to see you tomorrow, I will give you further instructions then." said Romanov, waving a hand dismissively.

Tregubova left Romanov's office with a little frown on her face.

The next day Dmitry Ulapala met Romanov at the appointed time in an empty room next door. The young woman's face was very pale and her hands were trembling as she held out her hand for him to shake.

When they were finished, she said, "I am Dmitry Ulapala, you can call me Ulapala."

"I am Grigory Vasilievich," said Romanov, taking her hand in his, "and this is Tregubova." He continued, gesturing to Olga, who was standing a few feet behind him.

"Can I help you with something?" Urrappala asked.

"Sure, I want to ask you a question. How do you feel about your homeland versus yourself? You can tell the truth."

Ulapala said nothing, then she said, "I like my country very much, I don't think I'm anything special."

Romanov sat on the sofa and pointed to the sofa chair next to him and said, "Sit down and tell me, what do you think is the most important?"

Ulapala sat down and said, "I think the most important thing is that we should be united. We should not let people who are power hungry and greedy try to separate us."

"Is that so? Have you studied economics? Especially finance?" Romanov asked.

"Yes, I earned an MBA in finance."

"What kind of financial advisor does your family have?"

"My family is quite wealthy."

"But you still chose the field of finance?"

"Yes. I wanted to help my family with their business, and after I got my degree, I decided to work for them."

"How fortunate. What did you study finance for? Tell the truth."

"Well ...... someday I want to be a manager of a big company."

"Do you see yourself as someone who will manage people someday?"

"Yes."

Romanov nodded got up and turned on the radio voice and asked again, "Well, what if there was an opportunity for you to become a director and shareholder of a bank?"

Ulapala's eyes widened and she said, "Well ...... I would be interested."

"Very well, I'm glad to hear that. If you are in a bank, can you help a big man by some small means?" Romanov asked as he walked up to her.

"You can say that again, but with a little more subtlety?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, not that I don't appreciate what you have to say, but ......"

"It's not much to ask. Just a little help. That's all. Can you do that?"

"Well ...... I think so."

"That's all I need. Now, tell me what you need to get there?"

Ulapala thought for a moment. "I think if I'm successful, there will be a seat on the board of that bank for me."

"If you're a little more successful, you could have a large stake in that bank." Romanov stared at her and said, "So, a deal?"

"Yes, I can do that."

"You could have a seat on the board and a large stake in the bank?"

"A big bet."

"Very well, we have a deal." Romanov pointed at her and said, "Take off your bra."

Ulapala looked around nervously, then bit her lip. She stood up and unhooked her bra and Romanov said, "Yes, yes. I can see you're nervous. You'll be fine."

Ulapala unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.

Romanov stood up and walked around her, running his hand along her back and said, "You are very tense. Relax." He continued, "You will be fine." He sat on the sofa and patted the space next to him. "Sit down."

Ulapala hesitated, then moved to sit next to Romanov. Romanov put an arm around her, pulling her closer than a brother would. She sat stiffly, then relaxed as Romanov's hand stroked her hair.

"Good," Romanov said. "Tregubova, honey come take our picture."

Tregubova walked over and said, "You're not going to ask her to take her blouse off?"

"No, I will not," said Romanov. "Besides, I want the picture to show us together."

The shutter of the camera snapped open and the three of them froze. Romanov looked at his wristwatch and said, "Ten, nine, eight, seven......"

"Wait!" Ulapala said, "What does that snap?" She pointed at the stopwatch.

"Five, four, three, two, one!" Romanov said.

The shutter snapped shut and Ulapala stared at her open-mouthed.

"I can't believe this. You could have at least asked me first." She looked at Tregubova.

"Very well. Now, take a picture of us both."

Tregubova turned around, and Ulapala stood stiffly, her hands clasped in front of her. They stared at the camera. "One ......" The shutter snapped shut.

"Two ......"

"Three ......"

A picture of a slave and her new master," Romanov said, patting his chest, "and that's the way it is," he said, smiling.

"I'm not your slave," said Ulapala in a harsh voice, "I'm going to report you to the leader."

"I don't think so."

Urpala crossed her arms and said, "I'm not afraid to report you to the authorities."

"And I'm not afraid that you will," Romanov said, "But, in an organization such as this, we cannot allow people to become too attached to the position they're in. If you become attached to me, you will become a liability to the cause."

"I don't see how you can do this," said Ulapala, "You don't know me."

Romanov got up and picked up the wine with the glass and poured it and said, "There are 280 million people in the entire Soviet Union, do I need to know every single girl?" Ulapala opened her mouth to say something, but Romanov continued, "And I think that the reason why we are so successful is because we keep a very tight stranglehold over the media, the education system, and the cultural ideals of most people in this country. In other words, we have very little opposition. Now, the more successful you are, the more opposition you will have. The less successful you are, the less opposition you will have. That's how it works. Here you are." Romanov handed the glass to Ulapala and Tregubova. "You don't have to drink it, but it would be unwise to throw it away." Tregubova took the glass and said, "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because I want you to manage the finances of this office," said Romanov, "Trust me, I don't pass the wine to people I don't like. You're both going to be my people? Right?"

"You can trust us," said Ulapala, "We won't let you down."

"That's good," said Romanov, "Because, if you do, you'll have me to deal with."

Romanov stood up, walked around the room, and stared out the window. He said, "Now, get out of here. Go to Leningrad in a few days, and Tregubova will contact you when I need you."

Ulpala stood up, kissed Romanov on the cheek, and said, "Don't forget about me."

"I won't," said Romanov, "Now, off you go."

Ulpala walked out the door and said, "Let's hope she really means it."

"She's never lied to us before," said Tregubova, "But, who knows? She's been assigned to us for the day. Maybe she will turn out to be like the others."

"She's our comrade."

"Yes," said Tregubova, "Our comrade."

Romanov sat back on the couch to check the reports and letters from the regions and said, "I hope you're not jealous or anything, she was recommended to me by yourself."

"Of course not," said Tregubova, "But, are you sure she will be suitable, given your line of work?"

"I don't know," Romanov admitted, "I just need to control the Baltic Bank of Leningrad without my direct involvement, to give me a source of funds other than my pension and salary."

"You mean....."

Romanov waved his hand. "It's nothing really. I just need to keep my mind occupied, that's all. She's perfect for the job." Romanov picked up the pen and said, "Of course, you'll be involved in the management of these funds. I'm sure you won't let me down, you have the same place in my heart as my wife."

"I would never let you down," said Tregubova, "You know that."

"Good, good." Romanov stood up and said, "By the way, I'm going to Cuba afterwards. I'll talk about other things when I get back."

"Fine," said Tregubova, "I've never been to Cuba, but of course I'll do my best."

"Okay," said Romanov, "I'll send a car for you."

Tregubova nodded and said, "Fine."

Romanov stared at Tregubova a moment longer, and said, "And, my dear, make sure you pick up my dry cleaning."

"Of course," said Tregubova, "What a perfect opportunity to do some business."

Romanov walked over to the door, opened it, and said, "Goodbye, my dear Tregubova."

"Goodbye, comrade."

"Goodbye."

#

The _Estrella Cubana_ was a small cruise ship, built in the late 1970s from an old Soviet freighter. The ship had a crew of twenty, with a total of sixty passengers, mostly students and professors from the University of Havana. For a week, the ship cruised the Caribbean, visiting several small, uninhabited island.

Staring at the tourist map, Romanov said, "I wonder if I can see Tairman Island?"

"That's on the other side of Puerto Rico," said Tregubova, "I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"How about the Abellon Islands?"

"They're even further away."

"I don't see Woban Island listed on the map," said Romanov, "I wonder if that's because it's uninhabited."

"It is," said Tregubova, "But I don't think it's listed because it's only a few miles in size, and therefore, irrelevant."

"Well, before we meet Castro, do you understand Spanish?"

"Yes, comrade," said Tregubova.

"Good," said Romanov, turning back to the map, "I'll need of you to interpret for me."

Tregubova nodded. "I'll do my best."

In the meantime, the cruise ship was approaching the port of Havana. It was a busy port, with ships from several nations coming and going.

Tregubova thought about it and asked, "Why didn't you just go to Havana via flight?"

"I wanted to see the sights along the way," said Romanov, "And, besides, I might have been recognized, and that could have had unfortunate consequences."

"I doubt that."

"Well, you can understand that I want to travel with you for once. How's that for an answer?"

"Fine," said Tregubova, smiling.

The _Estrella Cubana_ entered the port of Havana, in the early evening. The lights of the city twinkled in the background. The port of Havana was filled with ships of all sizes, from fishing boats to cruise ships to cargo ships. The city had several busy streets, with vendors selling their goods on the side of the street. The air smelled of fresh fish, and a light breeze carried the sounds of street music to the ship.

"It is prosperous, if not..." Romanov paused, if he was not a Swiss travellers in the twenty-first century, he would believe that the prosperous Cuba in front of him in a few years because of the collapse of the Soviet Union lost oil regressed back to the era of animal power? "No, it's very prosperous. People are buying and selling goods in the streets."

"What are they buying and selling?" asked Tregubova.

"Everything, I'd imagine," said Romanov.

"Will you be wanting to trade?" Tregubova asked.

"Perhaps. I'm not sure yet."

Tregubova paused. She looked down at her feet, and said, "Why don't you decide now? It seems like you're not exactly rushing to find a trading partner."

"Because." Romanov smiled, "I don't want to find one just yet."

Tregubova smiled, and said, "Fine."

The ship moored to a dock.

Havana, the capital and largest city of Cuba.

Romanov He wore a long coat over a suit, and tie. His black shoes gleamed in the sun. his grey hair looked like he had been standing in a windstorm. Although it was only early evening, already the sun blazed down upon the city.

"Not a bad hotel for Cubans?" Romanov said through a window on the top floor, Tregubova nodded and asked, "This hotel is basically our guard force, have you figured out how to face Castro tomorrow?"

"I'm working on it," said Romanov, smiling.

"Good," said Tregubova, "Because I have a few ideas, and want to run them by you before we head to the meeting."

"I'm all ears."

"Well, we need to stir up some anti-Castro sentiment among the people. We need to get the public to believe that the revolutionaries are not the saviors they claim to be. They're not Robin Hood types sacrificing their wealth to the poor, they're just a bunch of gun-toting bandit gangs that are perfectly happy to take your wealth for themselves."

Romanov shook his head and said, "What are you talking about? Creating problems for our allies?"

"No, we create problems for the opposition," said Tregubova, "For the government, we're just another group of criminals. We need to make sure the public sees us as such."

"Wait, you mean using the opposition to cause trouble to get the Cuban public behind Castro versus us?"

"Yes," said Tregubova, "Exactly."

"I'm not going along with that," said Romanov, "We need to be seen as a legitimate force, not criminals."

"A criminal force that's taking over a government and killing its citizens? I think you're selling the revolutionaries a little short if you're portraying them as saints."

"By the same token." Romanov paused, "Why don't you tell me what you have in mind?"

Tregubova nodded, and said, "Alright, but keep in mind that it is the Cuban public that will be deciding our future. We need to be careful how we go about this."

"I'm listening," said Romanov. "I'll decide, but it's up to me. Now, let me sleep."

Tregubova watched as Romanov went into the hotel and shut the door. She smiled, and said softly, "And, we begin."

The next morning, the ship set off for the meeting point, just outside Havana. The ship sailed along the sea between the hills on either side, and small villages dotted the landscape. The sun shone brightly when the ship finally entered the harbour. Boats were docked along the coast, and small fishing villages nestled into the hills. The entire area smelt of salt, and bustled with the sounds of industry.

The ship moored to a dock.

The meeting place was a large country estate on the outskirts of Havana. The main building was a large mansion, surrounded by large gardens. Several smaller buildings surrounded the main building, including a farmhouse, and several smaller dwellings. The estate was large enough to have its own well, and a generator.

Several cars were parked around the main building, from old, beaten-up vehicles, to brand-new Mercedes-Benzes.

Romanov's footsteps on the dirt stood in the large garden. He squinted against the sun, and said, "This place was the meeting place for the revolutionaries, wasn't it? It seems rather isolated from the main areas."

"The main areas meaning downtown Havana?" asked Tregubova, "No, this is in the countryside."

"Oh," said Romanov, looking around.

Tregubova smiled, and said, "We have a lot of work to do, let's go."

The two walked through the garden to the main building.

The house was large, made of brick, with a slate roof. Large windows allowed the light to flood into the building. The door was wooden, with a large iron bolt on the other side. The door opened as Romanov and Tregubova approached.

Several people were sitting there and one of them was Castro.

"Welcome, comrades!" said Castro, extending his hand.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Castro," said Romanov, shaking Castro's hand.

He was short, wearing glasses and a cigar in his mouth. His black hair receded slightly above his ears and there were several wrinkles around his eyes. Gray hair reminds everyone that he is old.

"A pleasure to see you too, Comrade Romanov," said Castro, grinning. Castro spoke in Spanish and Tregubova translated into Russian for Romanov to hear. "I'm very happy you're here. We need all the help we can get."

"I'm sure we all agree," said Romanov. He sat down in a wooden chair. "What's going on here? Why is this meeting being held here? Why is there a full military detachment outside?"

"The first two questions are easy," said Castro, "We're holding this meeting as a secret, and the military detachment outside is there to ensure the safety of our guests."

"Guests?" asked Romanov, raising an eyebrow.

Tregubova spoke: "There's British, and American representatives present."

"So this is a meeting to plan your next act of terrorism?" asked Romanov, turning to Castro.

"No, my friend, this is a meeting to plan our next move. As I'm sure you're aware, we've been fighting a war for almost a year now."

"Indeed." Romanov added: "Despite our assistance to Ortega with the extreme Anarchists on American soil, I don't see any hope that Ortega will succeed."

"This is true," said Castro. "But I think that we can all agree that it would be better to take out the British and Americans who are supporting them, rather than the Ortega government."

"Yes, we have to admit that the socialist camp is in economic stagnation and crisis. The US has completed its third technological revolution, but we are still stuck in the 60s. The Soviet Union must undergo strategic contraction and technological development, and strategic contraction does not mean that we surrender to the Americans. The Soviet Union will not give up Cuba, nor will the U.S. touch our bottom line."

"So what is the plan?" asked Tregubova, who sat on a corner of the table.

"We've been monitoring the situation," said Castro. "It seems that the extreme left are planning a series of attacks that will draw in the British and Americans, and at the same time weaken the financial support that the Ortega government receives."

"That's ambitious." Romanov shook his head. "It'll be difficult to pull off."

"I agree." It seemed that Castro was getting into his topic. "The attacks will be aimed at strategic targets such as power plants, refineries, and other infrastructure used by the British and Americans. These attacks will cause economic damage and the loss of life, but not as severe as if we were to hit military targets. This will force the hands of the British government."

"And what about the Americans?" asked Tregubova.

"We will see that their influence vanishes. We will hit them at their financial center. Not only the banks, but also their stock exchange and other investment areas. We will bring in the world press and embarrass the government and the Americans will be left to squirm under the gaze of the world."

"We're talking about a risky strategy," said Romanov.

"We will have the upper hand," said Castro.

"But..." said Romanov, not able to find any words strong enough to express his doubts,

"Also, riots are breaking out in Haiti. We can influence the revolutionaries there to overthrow Petit Duvalier through the clerics of liberation theology."

"A distraction? I can't see how that would be possible," said Romanov.

"It's possible, if you understand the people better than your adversaries do," said Castro. "There are very powerful forces behind Duvalier, and they will be more careful than you think. You must keep an eye on this situation, as it has a direct impact on our plans. We have a lot at stake here, and we need to be certain that we're making the most logical move."

"I see, I need to go back to the Kremlin to consult with the Politburo. Is there anything else? Comrade Castro."

"No, comrade. I'm sure we will find a way to succeed. This is the sort of situation that must be resolved at all costs. We must not allow the British and Americans to interfere in our affairs. We must not allow the threat of terrorism to become endemic. We must not let the world think that the Soviet Union is weak. We must show strength. We must show that there is a system that can prevail. I want to assure you of this, my friends. We will succeed.""Yes. We will. Now, if you'll excuse me, my friends, I must leave. I've been away for too long, and my assistants will be wondering where I am."

Castro nodded and said, "Yes, by the way, the Cuban people have some gifts for the Soviet leader."

"What sort of gifts?" asked Romanov.

"The sort that's fit for a man like you."

"I see."

The man, who was apparently named Popov, took out a black box and set it on the table. "Here you are, comrade. The Cuban people have sent you this parting gift."

"Thank you, and I'm sure the gift will be as useful as the last."

"In that case, I suppose I should thank you. You've given me the means to finally put an end to those slave-driver British and their ilk. Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

------

In the Cuban National Hotel after the meeting.

Tregubova put down the black box and said, "The guards checked it and it's fine." "Bring it here, did you see the information inside?" Romanov asked with a nod.

Tregubova approached and handed the box over. "I'm not sure about the protocol on this, but... do you wish to open it here?"

"I suppose so." Romanov opened the box and examined the contents. "Hmm, it seems they were right."

"What does it say?" asked Tregubova.

"I don't understand the authenticity of the information either, but they do predict the future. Do you believe that anyone can know the future?"

Tregubova was taken aback. "I... well, I wouldn't be surprised."

"To be honest, I was surprised by the information as well. A year ago, these materials started appearing in Cuba. They accurately predicted and revealed some secrets."

"What kind of secrets?"

Romanov put the box down and said, "The year is 1985, do you believe that our great Soviet Union will collapse in six years?"

"Well... I..." Tregubova said, taken aback again.

"That's one thing the predictions can't seem to get wrong."

"Do you believe it?"

Romanov took out the information from the encrypted message and said, "What would you do if all these prophecies you got in a year came true?"

"I'd be shocked, that's all."

"Would you flee?"

"Well, no, I mean, yes, of course, but... I mean, I wouldn't run away."

Romanov shrugged and said, "Well, help me translate these prophecies of the future. I can't read Spanish."

Tregubova started to help. They translated the first prophecy. It said, "The Soviet Union will suffer a calamity." Tregubova said, "That could mean a military attack."

Romanov said, "A military strike? That's odd."

Tregubova said, "Why is that?"

"Well, a military attack would mean a calamity. The Soviet Union has been increasing it's military prowess. It's preparing for war."

Tregubova said, "But we're not at war with them."

"True, but if war were to come, our nation wouldn't be prepared." Romanov stood behind her and put his arm around her and said, "Keep translating."

Tregubova said, "It says here that we'll suffer a calamity, but not a military one."

"Well, that's even more worrying. What kind of calamity could that be?"

"I don't know, the rest of this information is difficult and it will take me a little time to translate it."

"You should do it while you're here. It'd be good to have a record of what these prophecies say. I'm sure they'll become more clear once we start looking into them."

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?"

"What other choice do we have? We need to do something if we're going to stop these prophecies, and we're short on time."

"I see, can I ask you, did you pick me as a secretary to translate Spanish?"

"Yes."

"Well, can I also be the one to read the future?"

Romanov smiled and said, "I'll see what I can arrange."

He finished and sat down again and picked up the pen and paper and said, "Of course, now I chose you not just because you know Spanish, I want us to be able to keep our relationship as lovers going. Right?"

Tregubova's face reddened and her hand shook. She put it on her hip and said, "I'll... I'll do my best, you can rely on that."

Romanov said, "Of course." He stood and held out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his.

"So, let's get started."

"I'll start by trying to find any link between these prophecies. Then, we'll see where this leads."

They studied the prophecies. The translation of the first one read, "The Soviet Union will suffer a calamity."

Tregubova said, "That could mean a military attack."

"Not necessarily, but also other factors. Such as natural disasters and accidents or something, these prophecies are always difficult to understand."

"Do you think it'll be a major attack?"

"Anything is possible. We're a powerful nation and a great military power, anything is possible."

Tregubova sat back down on the floor and said, "I don't like this at all."

"Neither do I, but there's nothing we can do about it now." Romanov stood up. "Let's get back to work."

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