To Betray, or Not to Betray_? is published in English. In Moscow. Igor, who was just back from a year in France, is again summoned by his military. As he is packing to depart, his wife tells him that he needs to buy a new, better suitcase. He gives the matter some thought, but he can't afford one. His money is now completely depleted. He doesn't want to admit this to anyone, though; they would see him as pathetic. He asks his wife to talk to the army officers again and plead with them. She comes back with the information that the officers will pay the cost of the new suitcase. Igor now feels that he has nothing left to lose: he tells his wife that he will go to the officers and do what they want. As they approach the military camp, they see an enormous crowd in the square: all the inhabitants of a nearby village, the army's enemy, are standing in a circle around their houses, apparently awaiting orders from the officers. A large crowd has gathered. Igor's wife starts to feel nervous, but she says nothing. Igor enters the camp and finds the military commanders. Their conversation is brief, apparently only about money. But then one of them, Mikhail Kovalenko, orders him to strip naked, lie down on the grass and play a game. The players are the ones he sees standing in the circle around the village: two boys and a girl, their ages undetermined. Igor is given a baseball bat, and each player gets three hits. Igor does his best to avoid striking the children, but he is overwhelmed by them. There is a strange element of cruelty in the game: their faces are like masks, frozen in fright. When Igor strikes them with the bat, they howl, but they seem to be enjoying themselves nevertheless. Kovalenko goes on to question the children about their village and its people. As the interview proceeds, the two soldiers, who have been in the village a long time, understand their situation. Igor knows that it is not just any of his military acquaintances who have sent him here. He understands that he has been set up. He has gone in front of his wife, his friend, his officers, and turned himself in; he now has nothing left to lose, not even his honor. He feels something like guilt, and this guilt gives him a slight feeling of relief. As it turns out, he and the other man have been sent there to do a job. They have both been assigned to seduce the village's three children. Igor is then ordered to go home and wait for his turn. He finds himself completely confused. Should he keep playing the game, or should he return home? He has made the decision, but now there is a sense of regret and uneasiness in him. On the one hand, he wants to continue. He hopes that the game will reach an end and that he will be able to return home. On the other hand, he doesn't want to go through with this and humiliate himself even further. But he is not permitted to turn back: he is forced to do his best. Igor goes back to his wife and tells her that he has done everything they asked of him. The game continues. He doesn't have any more strength left to resist or to feel bad about anything that is happening. He is caught in the trap, and he plays the game out to the end. After a while he realizes that what is happening to him has no relation to anything he does in the outside world. This is purely his own body and soul. He finds himself, at a certain moment, in the center of his own body, like a fly in a spider's web, with an awful feeling of despair, which makes him feel even more ashamed. At first, he feels helpless. He is unable to change his position or to escape from the web. But soon he begins to see the possibility of the change. He begins to realize that the children are somehow the masters of the game; they can push him away whenever they want. As he reflects on this he realizes that he should also take some measures to protect himself. He remembers that he has in his pocket a piece of string; he takes it out, ties it in a knot and hangs it over his left shoulder. After he finishes playing, he takes it off and takes it home. When he is asked by the village's inhabitants what he has in his hand, he tells them that it is a good luck charm. As he leaves, Igor knows that his game is not yet over. _Translated from the French by Sam Dolbear_ # THE DOG THAT LOVED PETTING A DOG WAS TORN TO PIECES by a car. While I was reading the story in a newspaper, a crowd began to gather at the end of the park bench. "Can you believe it?" "What do you think they did to him?" "Look at the poor animal." "You don't say..." "Who does it belong to?" "But he can't just stand there with his mouth hanging open!" "I'd like to take him home with me." "Hey, do you know anything about this?" I sat quietly and said nothing. Although I don't enjoy reading stories about animals, I was curious to know how this dog had met his end. The next day, while I was walking on Sukhumvit Road, I noticed a pile of newspaper and, around it, dozens of people. I decided to have a look. I stepped forward and saw the head of the animal. "Do you know what happened to him?" "Let's take a picture," a woman said. "Take his picture." "Hey, I want you to take my picture," said another. "Look, someone is taking his picture," said a third. No one tried to hold the dog. I heard someone say, "I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole." "Take his picture with the animal," someone said. "Here, take my camera. You're the one who knows how to take a picture," said a second voice. "And the cat that died on the mountain?" "Here, take my picture. He's a nice guy and all, but he was still a dog." Some young men were moving the body. I could see that there were cuts all over his body and his fur was burnt in a number of places. Several people lifted him and placed him carefully on a truck that was parked under the tree. Someone was calling someone else on his cell phone and telling him, "They're going to cut him up. Come here quickly." Someone called, "I'm a doctor." I didn't see where he went, but soon, two men walked up and lifted the animal. They took him to the other end of the road, where two more men were waiting. One of them took off his shirt. "Get a knife and make a cut," the man said, and they slit his belly open. The dog didn't look like he was dying; he was calm, stretched out on the ground. The men took turns poking around in the animal's guts with their hands. The rest of the people were silent. A cat approached and began sniffing at the dog. A woman reached out for her cat and grabbed its tail. I thought about how people can act like wild animals—running about, fighting, screaming, and acting crazy. As I was thinking this, a group of people began walking down the hill. Some were young and energetic, but others were old. Some were drunk, while others were only half-drunk. One group was talking about the upcoming election; the other was talking about their lives. One group was walking toward me, while the other was making its way back. "So this is what it means to be liberated from Saddam Hussein?" "Hey, look who's standing there. Isn't he dead?" "He is just not like us." "Who is going to make up for all the dead animals?" "Hey, there's no need for a dog in a democracy." "But there is a dog in the middle of the city. He is lying on the street." "Hey, are you going to throw him away or what?" "If he's still breathing, he's mine." "Hey, the dog wants to go somewhere." "We're going to bring him to the hospital." "Wait, hold on, it is not that easy. The problem is that there is no hospital that accepts animals. After all, it was a dog." "So what is going to happen to him?" "Nothing." "This is not fair. I want to take him home." The people began walking slowly toward their cars. I stopped one of them and asked, "Can I ask you about the dog?" "What dog?" "The dog on the ground." "Ah, him," she said, and turned her back on me. I noticed a group of young men gathered around a woman who was on her knees. They were standing there like statues, with the woman in between them. They were surrounding her and telling her things I couldn't hear. The