May 12th 2024
The former business consultant was thinking about the Swiss landscape, how far it was especially if compared with the cold horizon offered by contemporary Russia. Even those few buildings that have survived the Revolution, the war and the Soviet Regime, not to forget the reconstruction that occurred since the 1990s, did not transpire any feeling of authenticity. For sure they had been restored without sparing any cent, not even million of US dollars, but the place in front of the Hotel Metropol looked no more original than the Disneyland Castle. Her last reminiscence of the Zurich Lake was on the contrary the eternal sundown that the inhabitants of the Albis and the Zimmerberg have enjoyed for centuries. On a day with a clear sky, it is possible to view the Villain, far away in the Graubunden, and dream to be an affluent British Alpinist who sustained the birth of hiking in the Swiss valleys. Russian tourists on the contrary only contributed to the growth of shopping malls and luxury centres in the main cities of Western Europe and Middle East. Their only taste of adventure was at the poker table of a casino not so different from the airport lounges and the flagship stores that they so enthusiastically attended. The young lady had developed a terrible opinion of Russians, based on awkward experiences in the workplace and a few cultural institutions she visited from time to time. Once she had a colleague, belonging to her team, sponsored by a St. Petersburg billionaire who wanted to let his sweetheart taste some weeks of business management consulting. The professional appeared on the first day with no luggage, but with a credit card in her hands. She spent a whole week purchasing expensive goods, charging a substantial sum in cab bills on the project beside a few other extravagances. The Cresus’ lover eventually resigned because she found the colleagues dull and boring, perhaps even poor.
The art dealer was on the contrary in his own environment. He had to deal with Russian upstarts quite often in the past. They were not always affluent as they pretended, or wished, to be, but once convinced of the cleverness of their interlocutor, usually became loyal and generous clients. If it had not been for successful IT entrepreneurs, or bankers, or commodities traders from Moscow and St. Petersburg, the Briton should have terminated his own career much earlier. Working in the art market was one of the few things he had always really valued during his whole existence. He would have given his life for the King and the Country, perhaps muchmore to honour the memory of his father than by any nationalistic creed. He never liked the commies and the leftists, whom he considered accomplices of the massacres perpetrated by the IRA, but beside that he always considered himself politically neutral. Thus he never felt any repulsion to trade with Russians and Chinese. Yet, to keep a compass within the Oceans of ethical values offered by the XXI century, he chose to believe in the Union Jack and whoever was considered to be an enemy of His Majesty, that person or nation was also his personal opponent. Moreover he was perfectly aware that Soros and Putin were two sides of the same coin, and that their power derived from the treasure of the Soviet Union. At least that part of gold that was saved from the illusions of the socialist economy. The Briton chose not to spend too much time on cheap philosophy, but preferred a line of direct action. The day after they had arrived, he was already trading the favours of his new clientele with a not authorised room upgrade or a free bottle of cremant d’Alsace, actually charged on the room of some less affluent and attentive guest. He enjoyed the most devilish aspects of these trucks and behaved like a pestiferous elf who wanted at any cost to gain the favour of a powerful wizard. After all, Ulster still belonged to the island called Ireland.
The one who should have struggled more with his own role was Lenin. He revealed himself on this occasion to be a master of disguise and even an excellent cook. A skill he had to learn during his long years abroad. Partially because he often had to rely on a limited budget. The idea of mixing ingredients and understanding the correct timing of preparation was to him an analogy of a Revolution. When he met the people assembled in a square and wanted to ignite in their mind the dream of a new world, he also put together a calculated amount of human emotions, of truths, half truths and lies. The latter so well hidden to appear so well sounded to constitute a natural law. Once all the elements had been combined, the last decision left to him was at which point to switch from the appearance of a bonhomme to that of an infernal creature. The communist thinker followed the usual approach even with the employees of the Hotel. The chef de cuisine mastered indeed the recipes on the menu as well the human souls. Within a short time, Lenin was able to determine how to influence most of the employees with whom he worked. After all, in the kitchen, most people were enthusiastic about their job and even those whose professional choice had been determined by desperate necessity of money, were somehow proud of their duty. It was thus easy to circumvent the mind of honest men who were not acquainted with the tricks of politics. On his side Lenin generously helped all those in need and under stress. He had matured such a strong endurance along the years, to impress even the most apathetic of his mates. Such a familiarity with his new comrades, awarded him with the key for his next move.
