Eagle, I don't want to form an alliance anymore.

The next step is to get the information network up and running and take over the consumer goods supply chain.

The reason the military-industrial complex was able to monopolize civilian production in the past was essentially because it was the only reliable dispatch system in the entire Soviet Union. To truly separate civilian products from the military-industrial complex, a replacement dispatch system must first be established—demand forecasting, raw material allocation, production capacity matching, quality tracking... all of these must be incorporated into a unified computing network.

Once this is achieved, the military-industrial complex can no longer use "our production is more reliable than anyone else's" as a shield.

Then came the soft landing for cadres.

In the Soviet system, the political status of a minister or director-general was directly linked to the size of the cadre under his jurisdiction, the number of enterprises, and the amount of investment. Abolishing a military-industrial ministry was tantamount to publicly stripping the incumbent minister of his political capital; it would be strange if he didn't fight Slava to the death.

Therefore, Slava had already planned out a new home for each of the passive ministries: young deputy ministers from the former military-industrial complex would take charge of new civilian ministries, older ministers who were willing to cooperate would be transferred to the Politburo as alternates or to the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet, those who were unwilling to cooperate would retire honorably, and those who still wanted to resist would "voluntarily apply for retirement due to health reasons."

After setting the tone, the next step was to make plans for different departments. Slava discovered that there were three departments he didn't need to fight for: the Ministry of Communications Equipment Industry, the Ministry of Electronics Industry, and the Ministry of Radio Industry.

These three ministries form the core of Slava's most loyal circle, because what is the material basis for Slava's planned computerized economy? It is computers, microelectronics, and communication equipment!

As long as General Secretary Slava remains in office, and as long as his computerized planned economy continues, these three ministries will forever be the central hub of the country's industry, and the core of its resources and status!

Other ministries were the targets of Slava's reforms, while these three ministries formed the foundation of the reforms themselves.

So Slava invited the three ministers together. After an inspection of the military-industrial complex, he "casually" invited them to stay for tea. This informal setting was perfect for establishing an understanding before bringing it up in a formal meeting.

Of the three, the Minister of Electronics Industry was the oldest, a veteran technocrat who had spent his entire life dealing with semiconductors and integrated circuits.

Slava cut to the chase: "I want to reorganize the military-industrial complex, and the three of you know that, right?"

The three men exchanged glances: "Comrade General Secretary, we not only understand, we're also looking forward to it!"

Slava raised an eyebrow.

"You want to divest civilian production capacity to form a new joint department. The workshops in our department that make televisions and tape recorders have always been using scraps from military products. The accounts are mixed up, the people are crowded together, and no one has the mind to do civilian products well."

If we were to separate them into independent departments and let them manage their own finances and survive on their own, I think it would be a good thing for us—those that remain would focus on cutting-edge technologies, while those that are separated would focus on large-scale operations, leaving both ends clean and efficient.

We couldn't ask for more.

The Minister of Radio Industry chimed in: "Not to mention, if your information technology system is really rolled out, who will supply the chips and who will supply the communication equipment? We'd love to expand the scale as much as possible."

The interests of their three departments are inextricably linked to the interests of reform.

Slava said, "Let me mention something more specific. I suffered a great loss because of the civilian information infrastructure, and now I need to plug that gap in the military industry first."

"I made a mistake when I was deploying information nodes and building computing nodes across the entire alliance—I let each region and department do it on their own, and what was the result?"

The result was fragmentation. The Ministry of Medium Machine Building had its own computer production line, the Ministry of Electronics Industry had its own, the Academy of Sciences had the БЭСМ series, and the planning committees of the constituent republics had their own АСУ systems—all these systems used different instruction sets, different operating systems, and different communication protocols!

My God! The same memory chip produced by different production lines in different departments could not match up! The entire Soviet Union was simultaneously maintaining more than a dozen incompatible systems, each with a ministry behind it.

This is the most absurd thing I've ever heard!

He paused for a moment: "So I need to standardize these standards."

"What do you plan to do?" The Minister of Communications Equipment Industry asked for the first time.

"The operating system and system software will be unified. The Ministry of Electronics Industry will take the lead in establishing a common operating system and underlying system software as the standard for the entire military information network."

From now on, regardless of which military branch's command system, which ministry's logistics procedures, or which consortium's production scheduling, they will all have to run on this system and comply with the same set of data exchange protocols.

A programmer trained on this system can work directly on any project. A military logistics scheduling program and a production consortium's economic data program can both access the same underlying libraries.

The Minister of Electronics Industry pondered for a moment: "This matter...we can handle it, we are capable of doing it. But Comrade General Secretary, I must remind you, if the military industry ministries want to develop operating systems, what will happen to the current systems of the various ministries?"

“Our various ministries have already trained a large number of programmers. These people have already figured out their own methods and developed their own habits at their respective stages. If we were to issue a unified system from top to bottom now, it would be equivalent to making them tear down what they are currently using and start over.”

We can issue orders, but they're the ones doing the work. Besides, the specific circumstances vary from region to region. If we don't consider those details, it could easily cause production chaos and give the reactionaries an opportunity.

Slava nodded: "You're right. We also need to consider the thoughts of the frontline operators regarding this unified system. The technology from the Academy of Sciences is the most mature, so I think we can ask them for their thoughts first."

So the matter was settled that very day: the draft standard for the unified operating system was first distributed to computer science academies throughout the Soviet Union. Since civilian systems were more mature in terms of unified architecture, Slava also solicited opinions from frontline programmers at various nodes before collecting them back for finalization.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Two days later, news came from the Novosibirsk node.

This information node was the largest in the entire eastern Soviet Union, and thanks to its location in the science city, it had gathered a group of the Soviet Union's best young programmers. When Slava's draft of the unified system arrived here, the person in charge of collecting opinions handed him something—a joint letter of opinions from the programmers at this node.

The gist is: "The direction of the unified operating system draft set by the central government is correct, but you sitting in Moscow have no idea how we've managed to get through the last two years."

When the information node was first established, the system provided was not very suitable for the new model of the Chinese Academy of Sciences. The system in Ukraine may have worked very well. Here, we often had to modify and patch the system until it could finally run perfectly.

Our current system is tailored to our specific local needs—the transportation scheduling in Siberia and the production characteristics of our factories here are all taken into account in our program.

The following three pages listed the technical details that the programmers felt were unreasonable in the draft.

Slava then had the three pages of technical details in the document reviewed point by point with the design team at the Ministry of Electronics Industry. The review revealed that a large portion of the issues were genuine—the draft did indeed overly assume a Moscow-centric scenario, neglecting the vast differences in scheduling needs and infrastructure levels across different regions of the country. The design team revised the draft based on these feedback.

Secondly, and more importantly, he changed the architecture of the unified system.

The original draft was "one system manages everything, and all places are exactly the same", but after the revision it became "unified underlying kernel and protocol, but leave configurable interfaces for different places at the application layer".

After more than half a month of continuous revisions, the unified operating system was finalized: the Ministry of Electronics Industry would take the lead in setting up a general system and system software, unifying the underlying layer and opening up the upper layer software. The programmers trained in various city nodes would be the main force on the front line of this system, and their opinions would be included in the final draft.

The foundation for information network software and protocols is now firmly established.

But just when Slava thought the military information system was almost complete, someone he should have expected stepped on the brakes.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

KGB Chairman Chebrikov came to see him.

Chebrikov had been uneasy ever since Slava took office and began aggressively implementing information technology across government agencies. Government documents, economic data, the operations of various ministries… everything was being moved online—to someone like Chebrikov, who had spent his entire life dealing with secrecy and infiltration, this was tantamount to laying the entire nation's nervous system on the table, open to anyone who could potentially get their hands on it!

He had been holding back his temper because even if the civilian version of the system were leaked, it wouldn't reach the most critical areas.

But now Slava is going to take action against the military.

"Comrade General Secretary, I understand that you want to include the military's information system and connect it to the OGAS infrastructure."

Slava nodded: "Yes, the military's informatization is a core part of this military reform."

"I oppose the military's systems being integrated into OGAS."

The meeting room fell silent for a moment.

“Tell me your thoughts.” Slava knew that Chebrikov wasn’t the type to cause trouble for no reason; since he had expressed his opposition so bluntly, there must be something serious going on behind his words.

Chebrikov leaned forward slightly: "OGAS is best used only for civilian information networks. It needs to be transparent. How can ordinary people, businesses, and planning commissions at all levels use it if it's not transparent? Hundreds of thousands of terminals are spread across the country, and anyone can connect. That's its advantage, I don't deny it!"

But now we're connecting military data to this network that anyone can access. What if someone manages to infiltrate the military's database through civilian facilities? Furthermore, OGAS has extensive auditing powers; even local workers' soviets can access their factory's economic data—

I'm not saying every factory has spies or traitors; I'm saying what if Western infiltration forces collect data from each of our factories and then deduce our military production capabilities?

Slava did not answer immediately.

Chebrikov added: "What's in the military's database? It's operational plans, troop deployments, weapon technical parameters, and launch control of the Strategic Rocket Forces. Not a single word of this can leak to the West."

Historically, the reason our military system has been able to thwart Western intelligence agencies is precisely because of its closed nature. The military can engage in information technology, but it must never infiltrate civilian audit networks.

"Now you're going to dismantle this barrier," he said, staring at Slava. "You're going to connect the military to the civilian network. Tell me—can you guarantee that no one can infiltrate the military's inventory through civilian infrastructure?"

Slava pondered for a moment: "The KGB's concerns are valid. Since we don't have absolute certainty, we can't gamble with the military's lifeline. I agree with you on this point."

"The military can build its own information infrastructure. You can use your own civilian computing nodes and information nodes, and you can also use your own data network."

The core of the military infrastructure was built by the Ministry of Communications Equipment Industry, but the entire network's encryption system, key distribution, access permissions, and audit logs were all controlled by the KGB.

Chebrikov asked, "So the military doesn't communicate with the civilian sector at all? Comrade General Secretary, the military also needs things from OGAS—the military-industrial complex is not a country within a country; it still needs raw materials and basic parts from civilian industries. The military's logistics and procurement cannot do without it."

I think we can set up one-way data gates on a very small number of controlled nodes.

"Let me give you an example: The military needs production capacity and inventory data from the military-industrial complex. This data can flow from the civilian OGAS network into the military network through a one-way gate for logistics and procurement purposes. But conversely—the operational plans, troop deployments, and weapon parameters in the military network—cannot physically flow back to the civilian network. Data can only go in, not out."

"Can we do this technically now?" "Yes, Comrade General Secretary."

"Then go ahead and do it."

The plan was thus finalized: a unified military architecture, a separate information infrastructure physically isolated from civilian infrastructure, and data exchanged only through a one-way data gate on a few controlled nodes under KGB surveillance.

As for costs, even if we take a step back, the savings are still astronomical! Military components share the underlying technology with civilian components—the chips themselves are still mass-produced, and only the military models are equipped with radiation resistance, electromagnetic shielding, and independent packaging and testing lines—this alone can reduce the cost of military components by at least 30%.

Historically, Soviet military microelectronics were exorbitantly expensive, mainly because of their small production scale and dedicated production lines. Now, the demand for hundreds of thousands of civilian OGAS terminals has created economies of scale in production lines, and high-end military chips are benefiting from this.

Although building two physical networks and spending more money is required for the communications backbone, eliminating the fragmented construction model of the past where each of the nine military ministries acted independently actually saves a lot of money compared to the past.

The software and talent aspect relies on internal military unification—in the past, each general administration and each service branch maintained its own software team to do repetitive work. After unification, the programmers and data processing personnel saved can be transferred to support OGAS and civilian manufacturing.

The most crucial step is to release the more than four million highly skilled workers in the military-industrial complex who are responsible for civilian production into light industry and civilian manufacturing through ministerial restructuring!

Slava wanted exactly this: to fill the gap in light industry by exporting millions of the most suitable laborers from the military-industrial complex within a few years, provided that total output did not decrease or even increased.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

At the end of December 1987, Slava officially announced his military-industrial reform plan.

The core of the plan is the informatization of the military manufacturing industry, which is expected to be completed in five years: unifying the military's information infrastructure, unifying operating systems and protocol standards, separating and reorganizing revenue, and separating civilian production capacity to form a new large civilian ministry.

Slava aimed to free millions of workers from the high walls of the military-industrial complex and channel them into the desperately needy light industry. If successful, it would significantly alleviate the Soviet Union's long-standing problems of lacking consumer goods, labor, and a functioning dispatch system. However, if it failed, any one of the nine ministries it triggered could launch a powerful counterattack that would be disastrous for Slava.

The night the communiqué was released, Slava stayed in his office until very late. As usual, he leaned against the window; the snow in Moscow had fallen all day, and the red walls of the Kremlin looked even heavier than usual in the snow.

"Is five years enough, Slava?"

"It depends on human effort, and time will guide us."

"Among these nine ministries, there are always a few that cannot be persuaded by data, slogans, or reasoning."

Behind those old fogies in charge of ammunition and armor in the Ministry of National Defense Industry stand marshals, the army, and the power bases built up over decades.

You've brought over the three ministries of electronics, radio, and communications, you've brought over Ogarkov, you've brought over the KGB—and sooner or later, the centrists will be lured away by the prospects of your large military aircraft, commercial spaceflight, and marine engineering.

But that last small group of die-hards won't back down just because you're right. They'll only back down if they realize they're completely isolated, if everyone else on the boat has gone ashore except for them!

“There has never been a bloodless reform, never,” he said calmly.

Director Nian looked at him for a while and said, "Then, Brother Lao, I hope you will never forget your original intention."

You are constantly clearing away the obstacles in your path. After you have cleared away all the opponents, I hope you will remember why you took action against them tonight. You did it so that ordinary people could have one more television and one more decent piece of clothing, so that they could live a better life. It was not to prove that you can become an uncrowned king or an emperor in the true sense of the word.

I worry that you'll become too engrossed in power struggles and the exchange of interests, and eventually lose yourself. Politics is the art of compromise; sometimes, in order for reforms to continue, we inevitably have to make compromises and sacrifices, and many people change their minds halfway through.

"I know that we should never forget what our original aspirations were."

"it is good."

The two did not speak again.

He walked to the window and stood beside her, watching the snow outside. In the distance, the lights of Moscow's homes gradually lit up against the snow.

Chapter 87 Vegetable Basket Project

In the first week of January 1988, after more than half a month of anxiety and waiting, Slava finally received the annual report from the Ministry of Agriculture.

The terminal on the table has been updated; the screen has changed from the original green CRT to amber, with characters scrolling up line by line.

Technology is advancing very quickly...

Slava first scrolled to the top of the report: the total output of staple grains in the Soviet Union in 1987 was 220 million tons.

Slava looked on with satisfaction at this year's bountiful harvest, which was even greater than that of 1986, a year that was already considered a bumper crop! But more importantly, there was the next line: last year, the entire Soviet Union imported less than four million tons of staple grains!

On another timeline, Soviet grain production in 1988 would have fallen back to 195 million tons, forcing the country to import 36 million tons. A huge gap of nearly 37 million tons would have eroded the country's hard currency reserves year after year, dragging it little by little toward that well-known end.

Now, that gap is only less than four million tons—so small that it can be almost ignored!

It seems that the agricultural production and research consortium was the right approach; after so long, it's finally starting to mature. From collective farms that grow grain, to supporting enterprises that provide machinery, fertilizers, processing, and transportation, to research institutes that research and guide production, and then to universities that supply talent to the research institutes—this entire chain is linked together by information technology nodes into a self-aware and self-adjusting whole.

The Soviet Union possessed the world's finest group of mathematicians, bar none. These brilliant minds of the Union led to a major breakthrough in cybernetics algorithms, enabling algorithms to handle many small-scale resource allocation adjustments, reducing unnecessary losses and continuously increasing the economic benefits of the industrial-academic consortium.

After reviewing the report, Slava leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh of relief.

Food security is of paramount importance. Now we no longer need to spend precious gold and foreign exchange to exchange for food. The noose around the alliance's neck has loosened again!

He asked someone to print out a copy of the report and then went to ask Nian to bring it over.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

When Director Nian arrived, she was holding a half-finished cup of tea. Judging from the color of the liquid in the cup, she must have added some milk powder.

She placed the teacup on Slava's desk and sat down to look at the report. Slava noticed the teacup was too close to the several red telephones on the desk and, worried it might tip over, picked it up and drank from it.

Sure enough, it was sweet.

"Actually, I don't really believe it subjectively, because according to my own system reports, our agricultural production level is declining continuously. But considering that the previous almost perfect agricultural data was affected by falsified indicators and corruption, I think this can be considered as the alliance's problems with data falsification and corruption have been alleviated, which has led us to see data that is closer to the truth."

She read through the report from beginning to end, very slowly, probably comparing it with her own data.

"Really? A country that spends a lot of hard currency and foreign exchange to import staple food every year has an agricultural level that's almost perfect? ​​That's hilarious." Slava couldn't help but take another sip of the milk tea that the guide had made, and finished it off in a few gulps.

Director Nian sighed as he looked at the empty cup, then walked to the window and gazed at the January sky over Moscow. The sky was greyish-white, and snow lay piled up at the base of the Kremlin's red walls, half-melted and then frozen again.