"Comrade Matzfalinkov?" the soldier pushed his cap to one side and scratched his head, "are you German? Jewish? Ukrainian?" and looked up and down the man who stood on the outside of the barrier, waiting for permission to enter; the man on the outside took out his wallet and the soldier bristled at the thought that he might be considered bribable, but before he could say anything the stranger seemed to read his thoughts: "fear not, Comrade, I am not trying to Trick or Treat you, here is the letter I received from Comrade Stalin, urging me to come to Petrograd, and enclosed, a photograph of Comrade Lenin and myself on the last occasion I visited Zurich – you know Lermontov?" and the soldier nodded warily – he was used to innumerable fakes and frauds trying to worm their way in, claiming to be distant cousins, good Bolsheviks, aged parents, family doctors, best friends since child-hood – and only five or six in a hundred ever got past him, and less than half of those made it to Lenin’s office – but he gave a cautious: "of course, I have read him, what of it?" and the stranger grinned: "his ancestor was a soldier named Learmonth, who came from Scotland, to serve in the army of the Empress Catherine, Learmonth, Lermontov, and his companion was my ancestor, another soldier named MacFarlane, which in time and through the generations became Matzfalinkov and I am the last one, so far: Parkoff Matzfalinkov, Secretary-General of the Minsk/Pinsk Joint Workers and Soldiers Soviet! forget the title, one of the Comrade Actors from the Minsk/Pinsk Arts Theatre argued that Minsk/Pinsk deserved an impressive Secretary and landed me with the title, but I am no Civil Service Mandarin, I was formerly an instructor in Bomb Disposal to the Minsk/Pinsk Joint Military Council – 15 years in the business and still here to nuncupate the tale!" and he laughed, "but still apt to suffer Montezuma's revenge now and again, especially if the timer keeps ticking after I've cut the wire," and he knew by now that he was going to be admitted, although there would still be a few more questions, as much for form as anything else, so he took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to the soldier, who accepted it gratefully, then called to his fellow guard, Pavel, to put on the samovar, "why shouldn't we drink some tea while we interview interesting customers? let me introduce myself, Comrade, I am Corporal Дарцус Дубледей!"