The insurgency was largely illiterate, most fighters could not read or write. Yet they were possessed with a powerful idea – that this was an unjust invasion, that Communism was a foreign abomination and that they would ultimately prevail no matter how many well-equipped soldiers were sent here to die. God was on their side. History was on their side. Destiny was on their side. These ideas were far more dangerous than their outdated weapons. The challenge was how to disavow someone of the belief that victory was inevitable.

Hearing the door open, she looked up. Her teacher had arrived. With silver hair, greying stubble and skin that was much darker than many of his fellow Soviets, he was unique among the foreigners both in appearance and personality. She’d never seen him wear a uniform. She’d never seen him make much of an effort over his appearance. He seemed perpetually distractd, as though in a permanent daydream, with reality only infrequently demanding his attention. He was handsome, she supposed, although she quickly dismissed the observation as irrelevant. Belatedly he noticed that Nara was the only student in the class. He asked, his voice raspy and dry:

—Where is everyone?

She said:

—The others have gone home.

He looked around at the empty desks neither annoyed nor amused, his expression blank. She added by way of explanation, nervous that it would sound like a criticism:

—The class was supposed to start at midday.

Comrade Demidov checked the clock on the wall. He was three hours late. Turning back to Nara, he asked:

—You’ve been here for three hours?

—Yes.

—How long were you planning to wait?

—I’m happy to catch up with my work. It’s quieter here than at home.

He walked towards her, picking up her exercise book, reading through her list of quotes. She explained:

—I wanted to make sure I understood our party’s wisdoms.

Every time she referred to the party, Comrade Demidov would look at her carefully, no doubt evaluating her loyalty. He said, reading from her page:

—Trust but Check.

She explained, trying to impress him:

—No matter how much you trust a person, they should always be kept under watch. The point is that as an agent we do not have the luxury of presuming people to be innocent.

—Do you know who said this?

Nara nodded, and declared proudly:

—Comrade Stalin.