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

He looked out the window.

"Then I'll be burning incense in gratitude. If I can't even do this, what's the point of living so long? They say that if you're old and don't die, you're a thief. So I, this traitor, might as well go see my mentor sooner and leave the opportunity to the younger generation."

Aristov quickly grabbed a teacup from the side and handed it to him.

"Comrade General Secretary, if I may be so frank, you are already the best leader of the Alliance in the past few decades, whether in terms of the Party, the people, the cause of communism, or the ideals of the Mentor. Please do not underestimate yourself."

Slava took the cup, rinsed his mouth with the tea, and spat out some phlegm.

"Alright, alright," he waved his hand. "We're meeting Japanese guests soon, so I need to maintain a professional image."

He regained his composure and put on the mask of the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union again.

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.

A few minutes later, the Japanese representative arrived.

The group was led into the restaurant, where Slava stood up to welcome them, while Director Nian stood beside him to translate and introduce them.

Everyone who came was a heavyweight.

The representative leading the group was from Toshiba. Toshiba had a complicated history with the Soviet Union – in 1987, a Toshiba subsidiary was exposed for violating the COCOM embargo by exporting a large number of precision CNC machine tools to the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union used these machine tools to manufacture propellers for submarines, significantly reducing the noise level of their submarines.

The scandal caused an uproar in the United States, and the U.S. Congress threatened to expel Toshiba from the U.S. market, but the ensuing Great Depression prevented Congress from taking any action.

But precisely because of this past incident, Toshiba and the Soviet Union developed a tacit understanding—since the scandal had already occurred, there was no psychological burden in visiting the Soviet Union again. This time, Toshiba also brought along electronics manufacturers such as Panasonic, Hitachi, and Sanyo, all of which were the types the Soviet Union preferred.

There are only two kinds of transgressions: zero times or countless times. Toshiba is just like that evil magical girl who has fallen from grace and is trying to drag her best friend down with her.

Also accompanying them were representatives from Mitsui & Co., one of Japan's oldest general trading companies. Trading companies are a unique entity within the Japanese economic system—a vast network spanning trade, finance, logistics, and manufacturing.

This wasn't the first time Mitsui & Co. had dealt with the Soviet Union. Throughout the Cold War, Japanese trading companies were the most active intermediaries in Japan-Soviet trade. When the Soviet Union wanted to buy Western goods but the government couldn't easily intervene, the trading companies quietly acted as brokers.

Mitsui's trip was driven by its interest in the Far East's resources: timber, energy, and fisheries. Its strategy differs from that of factory-type companies: it's not here to build factories, but to establish trade routes.

Then came the representative from the Industrial Bank of Japan.

Industrial Bank is one of the core elements of Japan's "main bank system"—it not only provides loans to businesses, but it is also the central hub of a series of corporate groups, the link that binds banks, manufacturers, trading companies, and conglomerates together.

Its plans this time were different from others. Japanese banks were currently being inflated by the bubble economy, their domestic loans growing ever larger and the risks ever higher. The Industrial Bank came to the Soviet Union to find a way to diversify its risks—to put some of its money in the Soviet Union so that if something went wrong back home, it would have a safety net there.

It required the Soviet Union to bear some of the risk.

There were also people from Marubeni Corporation. Marubeni is also a general trading company, but its approach is quite different from Mitsui's—Marubeni is more practical and execution-oriented, specializing in bringing large projects to fruition. It came to the Soviet Union with the aim of infrastructure construction in the Far East.

The people sat down, and at first the atmosphere was a little awkward.

Slava could tell. No matter how shrewd these Japanese were negotiators in their Tokyo offices, sitting in a Moscow restaurant, across from the General Secretary of a communist superpower, their inherent nervousness was undeniable.

For some of them, this was probably the first time they had ever set foot on Soviet soil, and for others, memories of Siberia might still linger. Everything here—the slogans on the walls, the peculiar restraint of the waiters, the air thick with the solemnity of the old empire and the atmosphere of communist class struggle—was unsettling to them.

uneasydesu

Slava decided to break the ice first.

"Hey, let's eat first." He waved towards the kitchen. "Waiter, please bring the food."

The dishes were served. They weren't bad, but they weren't luxurious either. Too shabby would be impolite, while too extravagant would make the guests nervous, feeling that the host was trying to intimidate them.

Once everyone started eating, Slava made a few polite remarks about the friendly relations between Japan and the Soviet Union. He kept it brief, saying that Japan and the Soviet Union were neighbors, and it was only natural for neighbors to do business together. He added that everyone should have already seen the Soviet Union's sincerity from the prices in that special economic zone.

Then he waved his hand and said with a smile—

"In short, I hope you can open your minds and speak freely, okay?"

After he said that, everyone agreed, and the atmosphere at the dinner table relaxed a bit.

The first to speak was the Toshiba representative. He first politely thanked the Soviet hosts for their friendship and hospitality, and then steered the conversation to the issue that had worried them most before they came.

“Dear Mr. Ivanov, we need some incentives to set up businesses and factories in the special economic zone,” he said carefully. “It’s just that—we’ve heard that the Soviet economy is different from the West.”

He paused for a moment.

"We've also reviewed the materials provided by the Soviet Union. To be honest... we're a little worried."

Slava nodded, holding his cup, and waited for him to finish speaking.

“We are worried that government departments are interfering too much and that companies have no autonomy here.”

This is what all Japanese people fear most when sitting here.

Japanese companies operate very efficiently within their own country—how factories are managed, how products are made, and how personnel are arranged are all decided by the companies and conglomerates.

But the Soviet Union had a planned economy. Theoretically, companies there were subject to the orders of planning commissions at all levels, ministries, and party committees. Could a Japanese company operate in its own way in the Soviet Union? Or would it have to relinquish its management to a large group of Soviet bureaucrats?

Slava put down the cup.

"Please rest assured, Mr./Ms. Toshiba representative."

He picked up a cigarette and handed it to the Toshiba representative. The Japanese man stood up as if he had a spring in his butt, bowed deeply at a 90-degree angle, almost hitting his head on the table, and then took the cigarette from Slava with both hands.

“You have complete control over your employees, materials, and resource management,” Slava said. “I’m only giving you one rule—go ahead and do it! Your company and your management personnel have full authority!”

He paused for a moment, then emphasized, "If someone tries to interfere with you through administrative means, you can refuse and report it to me."

"If anyone else comes to deliberately make things difficult for you—"

Slava pointed a finger at himself: "I, Ivanov, am making this clear today—I'll be your backer! You can focus on building the factory and getting production going! Leave everything else to us!"

These words carried weight. The tension on the faces of the Japanese present eased considerably. The General Secretary of the CPSU had personally said, "I will be your backer," and within the Soviet system, they understood the significance of those words.

But some people still hesitate.

At this point, Aristov spoke up: "We can also offer another form—a joint venture."

Aristov explained to the Japanese side, and also to the Soviet cadres present: "A joint venture means that the Japanese side contributes part of the money, and we contribute part of the money, and we jointly establish a joint venture. We make money together, and we lose money together."

He added to the Japanese, "Isn't Japan worried that the Americans will take over your assets? Worried that the Americans will use financial means to attack your companies? Our joint ventures are also to increase the risk resistance of Japanese companies."

With a Soviet partner in your business, the Americans would have to think twice before taking action against you, considering the Soviet Union's backing.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Americans forced Japan to sign the Plaza Accord II for their own benefit, which you certainly weren't happy about. Since the Americans are willing to undermine the unity of the free world for their own sake, we, the Soviet Union, don't mind making a few more friends.”

The Japanese businessmen nodded. This point made sense to them.

But the banks reacted even more strongly. The representative from Industrial Bank's eyes lit up, and he took over the conversation, using an analogy commonly found in Tokyo banking circles to explain to the Soviets present.

"Please allow me to give you a brief explanation."

He smiled and laid his palm on the few Japanese yen bills on the table—the ones he had taken out of his pocket and casually placed there: "A joint venture is like getting married. We build a family, have children, and we have a responsibility to raise them together."

He patted the banknotes.

"Of course, we should also distribute the benefits equally; this is a win-win situation."

Several Soviets present nodded in agreement with these words. The analogy of joint venture, marriage, having children, and raising them together was brilliant.

Director Nian did not nod. She sat next to Slava, listening to the Industrial Bank representative use the analogy of marriage and childbirth. Her expression was not good, so she gave a look to the first secretary of the special economic zone present.

The secretary was dressed in a crisp cadre uniform with a Party badge pinned to his chest. According to Soviet tradition, a regional first secretary must have managed factories and mines, worked on the front lines, and be a model worker. This secretary had probably done heavy manual labor as well; his face was somewhat weathered, and his voice was incredibly loud. He was someone specially selected by Slava and Director Nian.

He slammed his hand on the table and stood up.

"absurd!"

The Slav's loud voice boomed through the restaurant. Everyone was startled—the Japanese looked at each other, bewildered, wondering what had happened.

"How could that be!" The Party Secretary pointed at the representative from Industrial Bank, his face flushed red. "You damned speculative capitalist! Decades ago, when our mentor was still alive, you would have been hanged from a streetlamp!"

The representative from Industrial Bank froze. He probably never dreamed that his analogy about marriage would elicit such a thunderous reaction.

No, buddy, I was just using an example...

"I am a proud member of the Communist Party!" the secretary declared emphatically. "How could I possibly engage in any 'marriage and childbirth' with a speculative capitalist like you?!"

He turned around, stretched out his hand and pointed to the portrait on the wall—it was a picture of his mentor, next to a red banner with white lettering: Long live the invincible Marxism-Leninism!

He pointed to the portrait: "Look! Capitalists and us proletarians are inherently opposed! What kind of joint venture is this? And they call it building a family together—I think these speculators are just trying to get us to share the risks! They enjoy the benefits, and we bear the risks. How many of us starved to death back then because of those grain speculators? How can we trust you?!"

He withdrew his hand and glanced at the Japanese men.

"Moreover, they're already thinking about having a child before they're even married—do you think this child will be capitalist or socialist?!"

That last sentence landed on the table, shattering the hard-won relaxation and sending the atmosphere back to freezing point.

The Japanese were all speechless. The Toshiba representative lowered his head and counted on his fingers, while the Mitsui representative stared at his plate. The Industrial Bank representative turned pale.

There was a few seconds of silence at the table before Slava spoke.

"Alright, alright, alright." He smiled and waved to the secretary, his tone relaxed and gentle, like a good-natured master soothing a bad-tempered subordinate. "Sit down, all of you."

The secretary reluctantly sat back down.

Slava turned to the several frightened Japanese men, his face showing apology.

"Please forgive the comrade who spoke so bluntly just now. As for matters like bank cooperation, I think we can put them on hold for now; there's no rush. The main reason we invited everyone here today is to discuss industrial investment. We all agree on this, don't we?"

He looked around.

"I've invited everyone here today to seek common ground while reserving differences. We're all people who get things done, and we share the same general direction. If we have disagreements on the details, we can discuss them slowly! Let's put the banking issue aside for now and start with things like building the factory and getting production done, one step at a time."

The Japanese breathed a sigh of relief when they heard that the banking talks would be put on hold for now. They weren't a monolithic group to begin with—those in industry and those in banking had different motivations. The industrialists were genuinely interested in building factories and starting production; the banking group, rushing in to try and get involved, wanting the Soviet Union to share the risk, was another matter entirely. Slava separated these two groups, letting the banking talks cool down for now, while the industrialists continued negotiations.

Then everyone skipped the topic of banking and finance and started talking about real industries. They discussed factory site selection, labor supply, and raw material sources.

The atmosphere gradually warmed up. After all, the Japanese businessmen were there to do business. Although their hearts were still pounding from the shock they had just experienced, the conditions offered by the Soviet Union were so good that they were reluctant to leave.

They can't leave even if they want to.

...

The meal took about two hours.

After finishing his meal, Slava went out to the balcony outside the restaurant by himself.

He lit a cigarette with his hands behind his back and stared outside without saying a word.

It was still light in Moscow on an August evening. In the distance, the skyline held those all-too-familiar rooftops and clock towers. The leaves nearby were a deep, almost black, green, and the wind carried a hint of the coolness of late summer.

Director Nian came out and stood beside him.

The two stood on the balcony for a while, neither of them speaking.

Director Nian spoke first: "That secretary's words just now, they weren't necessarily all an act."

Slava did not respond immediately.

“Many conservative cadres in the country have doubts about your establishment of this special economic zone. It’s not just Ligachev; many grassroots and mid-level cadres are wondering – after opening this special economic zone, are we going to abandon our thriving economic system and go for the market?”

She turned to look at Slava: "I think we really need to think carefully about the question of whether a joint venture is capitalist or socialist."

Slava took a drag of his cigarette but didn't say anything.

“There’s another layer,” Director Nian’s voice lowered, “Have you considered what would happen if those workers in Japanese companies experienced the sugar-coated bullets of capitalism—higher wages, better management, and a more respectable working environment…”

"When the Japanese companies leave one day, how will these workers view the Party? How will they promote capitalism? This new generation hasn't experienced the ruthlessness of capitalists; sometimes, a revolution that's too thorough can make people forget its necessity."

She stared at Slava: "Aren't we moving too fast? The Soviet Union has no precedent for such a large-scale operation. Shouldn't we be a little more conservative?"

Slava turned around and looked at Director Nian.

"Ha, I used to be the one stepping on the brakes for you, now it's your turn to step on the brakes for me."

Director Nian didn't laugh.

"This is a rare opportunity that the Party can seize, and you hesitate because of that?"

"Yes," Director Nian said decisively.

Slava looked at her for a while.

"It seems that you've become quite cautious after spending so much time in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."

He looked at Director Nian with a complicated expression: "Others who go into diplomacy or stay in the capitalist world for a long time will eventually turn to capitalism, like that Yakovlev or that Zhao Ziyang. If you stay in diplomacy for a long time, you will be even more determined to turn to socialism."

Director Nian didn't respond; she waited for him to get down to business.

“I still think the joint venture is feasible,” Slava said. “It can be done on a small scale and discreetly.”

“If we refuse today, the Japanese are likely to become conservative and will build factories in the United States or other places. We need to make a good start, lure the Japanese in before we kill them.”

He exhaled a puff of smoke and watched it dissipate in the wind.

"As for how to secretly withdraw the joint venture portion... let our economists handle that."

Director Nian paused for a moment, seemingly accepting the previous solution: "Then how am I supposed to talk to the Japanese about the joint venture? Things just got so tense, it's not good to bring it up again this afternoon."

Slava thought for a moment.