Yuri Vladimirov — Russian Federation

Interviewer: Yekaterina Tsiolkova, Russian Federation.

Interviewee: Yuri Vladimirov

Yekaterina: Hello Yuri. Thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed for this project. Your memories and perspective will be especially valuable because not many with a history like yours are interested in talking about that time.

Yuri: I’m honored to be invited to be a part of your work. I’m glad that I still have a good memory at my age!

Yekaterina: So how old were you when transition came to Russia?

Yuri: I was sixty-one years old and on top of the world.

Yekaterina: Can you tell me about your life up to the day when transition changed it so drastically forever? You had an unusual background, and I think our readers will find it fascinating.

Yuri: I was one of the oligarchs, as people liked to call us.

Yekaterina: Are you at liberty to talk about how you got to that place, and what it was like?

Yuri: I have no problem talking about it. Anybody from those days who wanted me dead would have killed me by now if they were going to…

I was born in the waning years of the old Soviet Union. My parents were both important behind the scenes Party members, so I grew up in the Party. Most of my friends had parents in the Party. As a child I was passionate about Marxism and the Communist vision for the world.

As soon as I was old enough, I joined Young Pioneers, which was mandatory, but I was also eager to join. Those were some of the happiest days of my life in the Soviet era. I made many friends, some of whom also became oligarchs.

In Soviet days, the way to advance in the Party involved knowing the right people, which I did, and having a sense of where the Party wind was blowing and acting or speaking accordingly. One had to be verbally versed in Marxist ideals and theory, but not overly forceful about it in practice. This is what I did.

Over time, I was able to advance. I preferred to be behind the scenes instead of in politics, because that’s where the real power was. By that point, I had seen that the idealism of my childhood was an illusion. I believe it was real in the time of Lenin, but it got lost along the way. I thought about quitting but I liked the feeling of power, privilege, and influence that I was starting to experience. I liked having people defer to me and even be a little afraid of me. It made me feel important. At first, I told myself that this was a way to make changes back to Marxist ideals, to work from within the system as it was, but really, I was just telling myself a fairy tale. We weren’t a Vanguard working to lead and guide the masses to achieve the true classless communist society; no, our aim was to preserve the status quo.

As I later learned, much later, I was already addicted to power and all that comes with it. But, along with drinking too much, this kind of addiction was encouraged and enabled in Russia, so I never imagined I had a problem!

Along the way, some of my comrades introduced me to the black market. At first I was uncomfortable with this, but, to quote a very tired cliché, everybody who could was doing it. By the time the Soviet Union fell apart, I was already very wealthy from this clandestine business.

At first, I was horrified at the dissolution of the greatest nation in the world, but by then I was a pragmatist with few qualms about finding a way to exploit any situation to my advantage.

It quickly became clear that in the void left by the Soviet Union’s disintegration, I and others like me were suddenly even more powerful than before, and we could be more out in the open about it. There was Yeltsin’s new democratic government and capitalism, which turned out worked together to put me and people like me on top. If the government and people wanted it one way and we wanted it another way, sooner or later our will prevailed. Then when one of us, Vladimir Putin, came to power, for all practical purposes the government was ours to command.

One thing I was sad to lose was the honest friendship and camaraderie with those like me. That was lost along the way. Years before, we would have died for each other. By this time, however, there was little trust among us. Any one of us would have sold the other out for a price or for an advantage over them. Every one of us had something over on the others and wasn’t afraid to use it.

I had become ruthless and hard. I had to. It happened little bit by little bit. I don’t want you to think I was a monster. I didn’t enjoy hurting other people, but I came to believe that there were two kinds of people in the world: those who push others around and those who get pushed around, those who climb over others to get on top and those who get climbed over. I knew which I wanted to be. I had people loyal to me whom I was able to reward richly. I was harsh with those who let me down or betrayed me. So, some people knew who buttered their bread and others were afraid of me.

Then there was Vladimir Putin. He had more on all of us than anybody else, and he was like a force of nature, like the Siberian winter. You can try to stand up to it, and your frozen body will be found in the spring. As long as you knew the power dynamics, you could do fabulously well. But one misstep and you would have a tragic accident. That was the way it was. If there had been no transition, that’s how it would still be. By then the hated capitalism of my youth had become my greatest blessing and I exploited it to the maximum.

Yekaterina: You don’t talk much about your family. Is that a painful subject to you?

Yuri: Not exactly painful. Just not very important. As a child, I looked up to my parents and wanted to be like them. But they were cold, not very motherly fatherly. They provided for us but rarely hugged us or gave us more than a little piece of their attention. Their lives revolved around their careers. In a way, they were the prototype for what I became. It makes me feel like that song, what was it called, something like Cat’s In The Cradle.

My brother Maxim, we’re not close. He wasn’t interested in Party affairs. He became a scientist, a physicist I think. We don’t have much in common.

When we were growing up, he was six years older than me so we had different friends and interests. Other than bossing me around and chasing me away when he was doing something he didn’t want to get caught doing, we didn’t have much of a relationship. Maybe he did show me how to be hard and bossy, which came in handy later in my life so I’ll give him that much.

My sister Lyudmila was five years younger than me. I often took care of her early on. I felt protective of her. But sadly she died of an antibiotic-resistant staph infection when she was ten. I think she was the one person in my life whom I was closest to, but she was gone so early in life! She never had a chance to live the full life that she deserved. She was a true innocent. Who knows, if she had lived, I might have made some different choices and become a different person. We’ll never know.

My wife Irina and I met in Party activities, meetings, and functions. There was a strong physical attraction right away but also there was more. Her mind and mine worked the same way. We were both excited by each other’s ambitions and ideas. We had both gone through the same journey from idealism to pragmatism. (later, after the fall of the Soviet Union, we both went on to step into that new reality with the same steps together.) We both realized we could go farther together as a team than either of us could go alone. And yes, there was genuine affection. Not head over heals, because neither of us would ever let ourselves be so vulnerable! So, we talked about it and decided to get married, after we both made clear our expectations.

We have two daughters, Yelena and Izadora, and we did our best to bring them up in the Party as we were brought up, and to give them skills for surviving and getting ahead in the Russia they were born into. I think we did well by them, but neither of them followed in our footsteps. As soon as they were of age, they each moved out and expressed a lack of interest in having us in their lives. This lasted for many years, though a couple of years after transition, they both contacted us and we now have a good relationship with them. It took a lot of hard work, hard conversations and family therapy, but today we’re all very different than in the past. The hard work was worth it.

Irina and I are still together. Somehow we came through all the upheavals with a stronger partnership than ever before. Now we actually have more trust than ever and we’re both able to let our guard down with each other. You have no idea how hard that was! For both of us. We thank the world shaped by transition for this.

Yekaterina: Thank you, Yuri, for being so honest and open.

Yuri: If you had asked me these questions twenty years ago, my responses would have been a lot less so. I probably would have ended the interview if I’d agreed to do it at all.

Yekaterina: Yes, I imagine so. And maybe some of your former colleagues would still not want to talk about it, given the lack of responses from those whom we tried to contact.

Yuri: I don’t doubt it, but a few of them might surprise you. They may have just been too busy to answer you.

Yekaterina: Now, Yuri, can you talk about the last year or so leading up to transition? Did you see it coming? Did you understand what it was? What changes did you see in Russia that may have been related to it?

Yuri: Well, of course I was aware of the wave of transitions happening in various places in the world. I didn’t understand it at all, and I didn’t want to. Or rather, I only wanted to understand how it could benefit or hurt my interests.

And before you ask, no I didn’t read The Cure. Actually I read the introduction and dedication and it sounded to me like a bunch of idealistic prattle based on an unrealistic assumption about human nature. So I didn’t read any more. I assumed that whatever was happening in the real world based on it was different from what was written there, just as had happened in the Soviet Union, the People’s Republic of China, and the United States.

I knew that transition meant that people like me in those countries were deprived of their positions of power and privilege, and I was dead set determined that this kind of “equality” would not come to Russia. I even beefed up my informal staff of enforcers into a personal militia to protect my interests of it came to that. But I didn’t think it would come here. Russia had a centuries-long tradition of strong hierarchies, from the Tsars to the Party to the post-Soviet oligarchy. I figured it was deeply enough engrained into the Russian soul that such egalitarian ideas could never take root here.

Its impact on my fortunes was very mixed. On one hand, my black-market business took a number of hits, since all markets in transitioned countries dried up overnight and suppliers there also went dark. On the other hand, my legitimate businesses got a tremendous boost. At first I was worried and angry because suppliers and production facilities in transitioned countries declared independence and refused to follow the chains of command. But they offered to work with me voluntarily in exchange for some concessions on my part and promised me a unique advantage in the marketplace due to near-zero overhead at their facilities and unprecedented high-quality goods that I could sell cheap and undercut my competitors.

This went completely against everything I knew. My first reaction was to shout, “Don’t try to con the con!” I considered sending a few enforcers to pay them a visit, but soon came to the conclusion that this would be futile. There was no practical way to intimidate them into submission. They had already foiled similar attempts from those like me in their own countries.

Being the pragmatist that I was, I looked for ways to salvage the situation. Then shipments of samples arrived, along with detailed breakdowns of costs before and after transition. Against my expectations, I was impressed when I saw the quality of products and the cost analyses. Every single product was as good as or superior to the most expensive high-end products that only people like me could afford, yet the cost to me was next to nothing. There were lists of concessions and conditions I’d have to meet in order to take advantage of this offer: I had to divest all company operations of all practices and processes deemed exploitative of employees or destructive to the environment. I had to guarantee that all of my Russian and other non-transitioned facilities would meet these terms. They would send inspectors to verify my compliance before finalizing the agreements.

I was furious that they would try to tell me how to run MY business, MY business! But if their claims held up in reality, the competitive advantage this gave me was too good to ignore. I had my analysts go over it and reach out to these people for more information. I told the people there that I wanted to send my own inspectors to their facilities first, and to my surprise they said they’re welcome any time. When the results came back from all of this, I was shocked. Pleasantly shocked. It turned out that all of their claims held up to scrutiny. So, I did my best to make changes to my operations to meet their specifications, which was no small task and went against my grain, and then invited them to send their inspectors.

In the end, we signed the agreement and my profits in these enterprises was more than enough to make up for my losses in the black market. Besides, there were still un-transitioned countries where demand was going up as a side effect of all of the transitions drying up supplies, so I came out ahead in spite of everything. It wasn’t my first time having the game changed on me and coming out a winner.

Meanwhile Putin had become a problem. He was no longer just a bigger, more powerful version of the rest of us. He had become obsessed with restoring the whole Soviet and Tsarist Russian territory with him as the new emperor. He squandered more and more resources on his pointless wars of conquest. In an increasingly rare act of cooperation, a number of us oligarchs met to discuss solutions. An obvious one would be to just have him assassinated, but we realized that the chances of success were close to zero. He didn’t trust anybody, with good reason, so he had infiltrated all of our organizations with his own informants, and he had the best hackers in his stable as well. Before we could arrange the hit, we would die of a fall off of a tall building or an exploding car. In the end, we came up empty.

Russia was falling apart. Putin’s failing wars were causing more and more shortages and breakdowns throughout Russia and people were becoming restless. The government at this point was as impotent as we were to mitigate the impact of Putin’s insanity. Of course the shortages and breakdowns didn’t affect us directly, but they were destabilizing the whole country. In response, I and my colleagues worked furiously to insulate ourselves from all of this. Thinking back on it, I think we suffered from tunnel vision so as we rushed to protect our assets and positions, we reached too far and tried to take too much, and this added to the damage caused by Putin. At that point, it was every man for himself.

Then in summer my analysts and hackers started telling me they were seeing suspicious traffic. My colleagues reported the same. There was going to be a revolution on June 29, orchestrated by the New Soviet Alliance, backed by the Army. Indeed there was activity that supported this, even troop movements, but nothing happened. Then there was traffic suggesting a transition would happen on July 13, with calls for all supporters to prepare on the 12th and a list of code words and operations. Again, a flurry of activity detected not nothing happened beyond a few systems shut down. This kind of thing happened over and over until we all concluded that this had less to do with any actual plans and a lot more to do with Western NATO countries attacking us with the same kind of disinformation and hacking that we’d been using on them for decades, with the goal of destabilizing Russia and making us waste resources chasing phantoms while wearing us down and demoralizing us. Well, it was only a matter of time, we all thought. So, we kept watching but mostly tuned them out.

So, when transition actually happened as the spring thaw began the following year, we were all caught by surprise.

Anya, my finance chief, called me early in the morning and told me to turn on my television. The news anchor was reporting that all banks and other financial institutions had been physically blocked and cut off from power and communications, though no one was inside. Someone handed him some paper and said on camera “OK, now!”

I watched and listened as the reporter addressed the nation as if she were the president or something, saying “My fellow Russians, I will give you a message to explain what is happening to those who don’t already know, and to let you know what to expect. This is a great moment for Mother Russia and for us, the Russian people…” She went on for what must have been three-quarters of an hour. My blood ran cold and boiled at the same time. The parts of the message that hit me were that all financial institutions were closed permanently, all forms of currency were abolished, it was forbidden for anyone (meaning me) to own or control more than we could use personally, and that the wealthy and powerful were now no longer either, but promising that no harm would come to us.

Images of the assassination of the Tsar and family by the Bolsheviks raced through my mind along with images from other bloody revolutions. There were always purges. People like me were always the targets. It didn’t matter what the message said, because they always promise safe passage but then drag us through the streets to be beaten and killed. Did they think we were fools? Hadn’t we been playing from the same playbook for decades? Hadn’t Putin and Saddam and others lured unwary opponents into traps?

About then my phone rang. It was Anya.

“Sir, I’ve tried all of your banks and other financial institutions, your brokers, the crypto exchanges. I can’t get through to any of them. The numbers all give a recording saying this institution is permanently closed and you are being transferred to NoviMir Support to answer your questions. I figured you would want to talk to them yourself.”

“What about my accounts in the Caymans? Switzerland?”

“All communication there is cut off. No one can get through.”

The simultaneous chill and boil in my blood intensified.

“OK, Anya. Thank you. Now I expect you to use your considerable knowledge and expertise to put together as much currency and other assets as you can in a form that I can carry. And have my personal helicopter fueled and running on the helipad to take me to my private jet and have it ready to go on a moment’s notice.”

“Will do, Sir!”

I then called my local bank that had a few billion in an account kept for emergencies. As Anya had said, it rang to the recording and I was connected to something called NoviMir Support.

“NoviMir Support. This is Boris. How can I help you?”

“This is Yuri Vladimirov and I demand that you restore my access to all of my financial institutions immediately! This is an outrage! You can’t do this to me!”

“Sir, I very much understand your frustration and confusion. I assume you haven’t read The Cure, either the full or the short version?”

“No I haven’t. But what does that have to do with me not being able to access any financial institutions or any of my assets?”

“I only ask because if you had, it would be easier to explain to you what’s happening. But no worries. You aren’t being singled out for any punitive actions.

You see, it’s been determined that all forms of currency actually interfere with all of life’s activities in all sectors. So, all forms of currency have been discontinued. But don’t worry, sir, because this is for everyone. Money is no longer needed for any transaction. You and everyone else in the Russian Federation can now access what they need and, within reason, what they want directly with no need for payment. You won’t lose access to anything you need. Your wellbeing and safety are assured.”

“Do you have any idea who I am!?!?” I thundered in my most intimidating tone.

“You’re obviously a citizen who’s very upset, frustrated, and afraid and wants answers.”

“For your information, muzhik, I am Yuri Vladimirov, the fourth richest man in Russia, and I can have you and your family tortured to death with one phone call, or I can make your life so miserable that you will take your own life! Now stop fucking around and give me access to my assets immediately or I’ll make that phone call!”

Boris answered calmly as if I had just commented on the weather, “Oh, Mr. Vladimirov! Yes, you’re on our list of high-risk people, you know, people who have folks who want to hurt them or who will want to hurt others. We have a security detail attached to you for your protection and the protection of others. Let’s see… hmmm, yes, your two hit-men, Yivgeniy Sokolov and Yelena Scharansky are both at this moment in custody and cooperating with law enforcement to deactivate your illegal enterprises. When we proved to them that you no longer have any wealth or power over them, they realized that you also could not shield them from justice, nor could you offer them anything in payment for their services. They agreed to this arrangement in order to accept the offer of therapy in place of imprisonment… also you have no idea where I am, and I doubt you’ll find out because your team of hackers has joined the Hackers Syndicate. They were involved in transition from its inception and did a great job of keeping you from seeing it coming. And all facilities like this one have more security than you can imagine. You see, many of the people you thought were personally loyal to you were only acting that way because of either greedy self-interest or fear. Now you’ll see who your true friends are. That will eventually be a relief to you.”

“Are you telling me I have no way to get at my assets?!?! And have you no fear or respect for who I am?!?! Has the world gone mad?!?!”

At this point I noticed that Irina had come into the room. I had no idea how long she had been there. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“You are correct about your assets as you call them. They don’t exist anymore. You still have your home, one car which you will have to choose from your collection, your personal belongings and premises from which you do your legitimate businesses, though you are no longer in charge and you own those premises in common with everyone else who works there. Actually, to answer your next question that you will want to ask, no one is in charge, or all are in charge as peer owner-operators. You will have new skills to learn, and you will be provided with advisors who will help you learn the skills of peer-based management.

To answer your next question, no, I’m not afraid. Your reaction is the expected reaction of any addict, which you are, when forcefully deprived of their drug of choice, which in your case is wealth, power, and privilege. But I most profoundly respect you but for your humanity, not for your former position or wealth or influence. And as for your third question, the world has been mad until now. It is now curing itself of this madness.”

“Mudan! Svolach! Yebat! I will find you and I will tear you apart with my bare hands after I rape you and all of your family!”

“No you won’t. But I’ve been trained to recognize the symptoms of withdrawal, which is what you’re going through right now, just like a krokodil addict or alcoholic. It will pass but there is therapy available to help you. There’s no stigma to being an addict.

Besides, we all share responsibility for your addiction. Not only didn’t we recognize and diagnose your addiction, we looked up to you and wanted to be like you even as we resented you. We enabled and fed your addiction. You were only playing the game as it was set up to be played, and playing it superbly well. The problem was the game itself. Now we’ve fixed that problem. And you don’t have to worry about being vilified or beaten down. You are protected from violence, just as others, like me, are protected from violence on your part or behalf.

Look at it this way if you can. You had a good run until now. You were on top of others and your excesses caused a lot of people a lot of suffering. Now the game is over. All you will lose is your addiction, and having to look over your shoulder because of never knowing whom you can trust.

So would you like to make an appointment to start detox and rehab?”

“I’ll make an appointment to kick your zhopa, you impudent piece of gavno! Khuy tebye!”

I hung up.

“What are we going to do?” Irina asked in a trembling voice. “I’m scared of what will happen if the mobs get ahold of us!”

“Don’t worry my dear, I have a plan for this kind of thing. Have a drink, but only one! And let me handle this.”

I called Anya. There was a delay before she answered, which was unusual.

“Hello?”

“Anya, it’s me. I want you to gather everything of value that you’ve been able to get your hands on and meet me and Irina at the heliport in ten minutes. Make sure my jet is fueled and running with the ramp down and ready to go.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t.”

“What the hell?!?!”

“Soon after the message was read on the television, most of the staff went wild. They grabbed pretty much everything of value and took off. I couldn’t stop them. They wanted me to come too but I couldn’t do that to you and Mrs. Vladimirov. You made sure my parents had the best care and residence when they declined, and you made sure my daughter went to good schools after my husband was killed in the war, and I never forgot. I just can’t abandon you two when they might at any moment drag you through the streets!”

“I will reward you richly when we get where we’re going. I appreciate your loyalty. So, what do we have to work with?”

“A diamond bracelet and maybe twenty thousand American dollars, and your VIP credit cards. That’s all I could salvage. They even took the artwork.”

“Khuy! Well, meet us at the helipad and let’s go from there.”

“We don’t have the helicopter or the jet.”

“What?!?! What do you mean? Have they been sabotaged?”

“No sir. People from the Ministry of Civil Defense, Emergencies, and Natural Disasters came and took them. They had papers authorizing them to, but your enforcers tried to stop them. There was a stand-off. The Ministry people were accompanied by soldiers. They said that the new guidelines say no one needs a private jet or helicopter with rare exceptions, which you aren’t according to them. They said they would be added to a national pool to be made available in time of need. They said first priority is for first responders, rescue workers, and national defense. Individuals and groups can use them in case of real need, which they said would be determined on a case-by-case basis and a rapid response line was available for quick decisions.

One of your soldiers started to draw his weapon, and the Ministry soldiers promptly did some fancy martial arts moves and disarmed all of your men. Then they took the weapons and took off in the chopper. The same thing happened at the airfield with the jet. I’m afraid we’re grounded.”

“I can’t believe this! OK do you have that rapid response number?”

“Here it is.”

I called the number and was answered by a cheerful woman named Fiona. When I told her who I was and demanded that my property be returned to me immediately, she said they aren’t my property except in the sense that they are there for those who need them.

“So, Mr. Vladimirov, are you asking for use of a small helicopter and jet?”

“You’re damned right I am. And I want MY helicopter and jet, not just any piece of junk.”

“If your situation warrants it, they will be on their way to you within minutes, but I can’t guarantee that they’ll be the ones you mentioned. So what’s the nature of your need? Is there a life and death situation or disaster in progress?”

“Yes there is! My wife and I have been robbed of all of our assets and we’re afraid for our lives! We need to get to Belarus quickly, so a mob won’t come and murder us!”

“Let me look you up right away Mr. Vladimirov… I have good news for you. You and your wife are in no danger. There’s no mob or agency coming to hurt you. All people in the Russian Federation are guaranteed safety, and that includes you. So you’re safe and you don’t need a helicopter or a private jet. But you can take a free public flight to Belarus, or you could drive there in your car. Remember that fuel is free like everything. Can I help you with anything else?”

“You can suck my khuy, suka!”

“What is it? What happened?” Irina asked me after finishing a call of her own.

“They took our helicopter and our jet. They actually suggested we take a commercial flight!”

“I can’t get any help either. Were trapped!”

“The hell we are!” I bellowed.

I sent a message to the other oligarchs in our Telegram channel. I wrote to “meet right away at the usual place. Bring wine, crackers, and cheese.” Which was our code meaning to get to a prearranged location in our vehicles with whatever we can carry to flee in case of extreme emergency.

Irina, Anya, and I piled into my Mercedes. None of my staff remained, including my drivers, so I drove. When we reached our rendezvous point, an unremarkable old, abandoned monastery with a state-of-the-art shelter and command center hidden beneath it, about half of my colleagues had already arrived. The rest of them came within less than an hour. Putin was grim and livid with rage, yet pale and haunted looking as though his worst secret fears were taking form before his eyes, which they were, for all of us. He had been declining lately so we had been using AI and other technical tricks to make him appear more virile and indestructible to the public, but I’d never seen that look of abject terror that his usual bluster and bravado failed to cover that day.

We had all had the same experience in responding to this unexpected situation. We looked through the resources we had in hand in our redoubt. There were food and survival supplies, communications gear, plenty of weapons and ammunition, medical supplies, fuel, and water. Everything we would need to survive here for a while and hold off a fair-sized assault, but that wasn’t our current situation. We didn’t need to fend off a popular uprising, foreign invasion, coup or civil war. We needed to get out of the country to friendly soil with as much of value as possible. Even if we held out there until supplies ran out, and even supposing we went undiscovered which seemed unlikely, at some point we would have had to choose between starving to death and coming out to be caught sooner or later by transitioneries who would have had lots of time to dig in and firm up their control. It hit us then that in planning this facility, we had thought of everything but our current situation, so we had stored no currency, diamonds, precious metals, or other form of wealth like we needed now. Who could have ever imagined this kind of coup, and that all of our wealth and power would or could just vanish like a child’s dream?

We decided our best bet was to drive in a well-armed caravan and present ourselves at the Belarusian border to be welcomed by our friends and allies there. So we gathered as much weaponry and ammunition as we could carry, disabled the GPS in our vehicles, turned our cell phones off, and took the route that we thought was the least likely to be covered by transition patrols or angry mobs. We were sure we would be hunted down and slaughtered or worse when caught. If we encountered them, we’d give them a fight they’d not soon forget! It wasn’t until later that we learned that all of this worry was for nothing.

The journey was a few days, too long for our frayed nerves but we met no armed patrols and were never challenged. And to our surprise, we discovered that fuel was indeed free, as was food in restaurants and shops. This was utterly shocking but not unwelcome and we had no time to investigate. Because of this, we had no reason to suspect or discover that our credit and debit cards would be useless.

We reached the border with Belarus and were admitted but our passports were only stamped with 90-day business visas. We didn’t stop to make an issue with the customs clerks. We were bound for Minsk to talk to the President, a long-time friend, ally, and fellow oligarch. Lukashenko had been a stronger ally, but his successor, Mikhail Mikulich, would do right by us, maybe even help us put an end to this transition nonsense…

Except he didn’t.

We called him and he invited us to his house to talk over dinner and sent everyone out except his wife so we could talk in private.

We’d all been each other’s guests from time to time, both socially and for business. He was a gracious host and this time was no exception. Of course, he had been expecting us and even knew about when we would probably call. He was as cordial as always, but after dinner and drinks, his face and tone got more serious and… sad.

“We sure do have a history together, don’t we? The world has changed so much! Who could have imagined?!”

“It sure has! So, Mikhail, how do we proceed with changing our residence to your fine country? It is ironic that we, who are the real rulers of Russia, now come to you as refugees, seeking asylum in fear for our lives!”

This was Oleg Kalinin, who usually took the role of unofficial spokesperson for our little group of power brokers when we needed one. He had the uncanny ability to speak what we all thought in common without straying into areas where we disagreed or had conflicting interests.

“Well, my friends, that’s where I’m in a bit of a tight spot.”

“What do you mean?” Was Oleg’s response, expressing the rising feeling of alarm that we all felt.

“You see, right now you aren’t the real rulers of Russia anymore. By rights you should be, and I don’t know how this infernal transition can just make your wealth, and the power that comes with it, disappear into nothing without firing a single shot, but we see it happening everywhere this new kind of revolution has taken root.”

Irina, having recovered her normal level of confidence, asked, “Once we crush this misguided insurrection, our power will be more secure than ever before. The world will see that Russia will be the first place where these seditious muzhik insurgents are stopped cold. Russia defeated Napoleon and Hitler. We will defeat these idiots! But right now, we need a safe base of operations, and you are our closest ally that isn’t already infected with this transition contagion. In Russia, we will be hunted down like dogs and horribly murdered. They have control of all of the technology that we created for tracking people. Of course, after you help us restore order to Russia, you will have our most undying gratitude, with all that that implies.”

“So far, among the dozens of countries where this calamity has happened, not one of them has returned to the original way of things. With all due respect, I don’t share your confidence that Russia will be any different.”

“If you rally all of our mutual allies, we can invade Russia and restore order!”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no reasonable possibility of success. In anticipation of your coming, I had my best military minds look at all options. Even with all of Russia’s allies who have not had transition committing fully, we just aren’t a match for the Russian military. Besides, in the few transitioned countries where something like that was tried, their defense forces were already on high alert and responded preemptively before the assault against them could get fully mobilized.

The military in these countries is usually divided as to support or opposition to transition, but where internal elements loyal to the old order attempted to regain control, they found that the populace very quickly supported transitioned military units with guerrilla warfare, basically using everything at hand as a weapon. Enforcing soldiers had to fight for every street corner. They had to fight not just their comrades who supported transition, but every man, woman, and child. In every case they were overwhelmed, demoralized, and defeated. It would seem that there’s something about this transition thing that people don’t want to let go of. I don’t like it any more than you do. But we have to be realistic. You are now neither powerful nor wealthy.”

Vladimir Putin, who until now had been uncharacteristically withdrawn and morose, spoke up: “I was president for life. I had the Constitution rewritten to make it so… yet by the afternoon on that awful day, my calls to lawmakers and the military were either ignored or were answered by subordinates who treated me like I was a nobody. I threatened. I offered generous rewards. All I got was cynical laughter and comments like ‘you and what army?’ or ‘reward me with what, maybe bake me a cake?’ Oh, and the worst was a recording saying, ‘Your call is very important to us but wait times may be longer than usual due to abnormally high call volume’ followed by some muzhik saying ‘The Representative is very busy right now. But if you give me your phone number, Mr. Putin, I’ll have him call you back at his earliest convenience.’ It was like I was in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

Before all of this, I had tried to address the Assembly, but it was chaos. Talking and shouting among themselves, barely noticing me. When I finally got their attention, someone from the Duma said, to my face, ‘It’s your fault the country is falling apart, Mr. President! You’ve run it into the ground for your own insatiable ego!’ When I told her I would destroy her, she laughed at me and said, ‘Go ahead, old man! Try it. But you’ll have to do it yourself because no one will answer anymore when you snap your fingers! You have no stick and no carrot! Come on, let’s go! I can take you down in less than a minute!’ The hell of it was that she was right. I couldn’t reach any of my staff or organization. I walked out in disgust, came home and found that my miserable staff had grabbed everything of value and left! This is intolerable! And this Rostov person that they elected as President so quickly to replace me, who ever heard of him? I am Vladimir Putin, and I will restore Mother Russia to her greatness! You must give us asylum and help us retake our nation!”

“Believe me, my friends, I sympathize and I understand, I truly do, and if that infernal transition had happened in Belarus, it would be me telling the same story to you.”

“Then you’ll back us?” I asked hopefully.

“Well, I’m in a delicate situation. I would like nothing better than to give you asylum and a base of operations and everything you need. But as I said, even if I do, and even if all of our allies answer your call, it won’t be enough. Resources would be depleted, and then Belarus itself would be more vulnerable to transition.

We have to face the fact that the growing community of transitioned nations are becoming a powerful bloc of influence in the world politically, ideologically, and economically. Analysts predict that the trend will continue. More and more countries will transition. Even though they keep their district cultural identity, they tend to back each other up. The whole global power dynamic is completely changing. We’re in uncharted territory.

When this whole thing started, I was sure it would burn itself out and end in chaos. After all, it’s based on assumptions about human nature and behavior that everybody knows is unreal. To run a society without money? To run a business without a chain of command? Whoever heard of such a thing?

Yet somehow chaos didn’t happen. Without exception, transitioned countries have become stronger and more cohesive than they were before. And in spite of my skepticism, there’s no denying that their products are vastly superior to the best products we can produce, at a fraction of the cost to consumers. We can’t compete with them in the global market. The only way we can even come close is to have as many channels of production and materials come through transitioned countries as possible! It makes me crazy to think about it!

If I give you asylum and we raise an invasion force, it will alienate us from that bloc of transitioned countries. So far, they have honored their stated assurances that they won’t meddle in internal affairs of other countries, but I don’t trust them any more than I trust anybody! We’ve all used the gambit of lulling an enemy or competitor into a false sense of security before striking them when we have the advantage!

If I alienate that bloc, it will cripple us economically and expose us to possible future reprisals. I need to walk a fine line here between many different parties and considerations. And at the moment there’s growing unrest here in Belarus. Many would think Russia’s problems aren’t our problem, especially when it would bring hardship to the people. I don’t want to precipitate a transition here!”

“But you control all of the media, Mikhail! The people of Belarus will believe what you want them to believe! Give them some fancy consumer goods and some satisfying entertainment and play the religion angle. Don’t go soft on us now!” Said Putin, wooden-faced, eyes burning with the intensity of delusional desperation.

“Vlad, you controlled all of the media in the Russian Federation. You eliminated all effective opposition leaders. You had the people eating out of your hand even as you fed them crumbs. Did that stop transition from coming to Russia?”

“Dammit, Mikhail, there was no warning! Who can defend against an enemy they don’t even know exists?! Anyway, it turns out that somehow a flood of unlocked satellite phones found its way into the country, so even if we hadn’t lost control of the media, everybody was live-streaming so our people came off as thugs and the damn transitioneries came off as heroes in front of the whole world!

Later we learned that a lot of people had been using that secure operating system that makes it impossible to trace or detect them or their activities. Tails it’s called. It fits onto those tiny microSD cards so it’s so easy to smuggle in. They can boot any computer from it and they’re invisible. Even if you catch them in the act, they can shut the computer down and there’s no way to retrieve what they were doing! Even if they don’t! The whole country is infested with it! I’m sure Belarus is too!

We need to find their leaders, flush them out, and eliminate them in a way that will make people think twice! What do you have on the author of that book, what’s his name, Vittorio Svoboda? Russian intelligence has had our best people on it and they come up empty.”

“Vlad, here’s the thing. There are no leaders to flush out. And this Vittorio Svoboda character is as illusive as it gets. Our best guesses are that either he’s a top-notch hacker or working with one, or he’s got a background as a spy, possibly Mossad, or he is really a name made up by a group of people. There’s one other possibility, one that has disturbing implications: he and his book could be the creation of artificial intelligence, in which case we have a much bigger problem.”

“Have you put a price on his head?”

“Of course, as have you and a few dozen others. If he exists and can be found, he will be. But if he does, he has managed to delete all records of his existence. His writing suggests he’s an American, but our experts think that’s deliberate misdirection. They think maybe he’s Polish, Dutch, Chinese, or even from some country in Africa.

But the thing is, the enemy here isn’t a person or leaders, nor is it an army or organization. It’s an idea that spreads like a wildfire.

You have your people in those countries just like I do. I’m sure they’ve told you what my people have told me: that transition comes quickly and with little disruption to the daily life of people. They initiate no violence, don’t attack the military or the government. Our counterparts in those countries appear to be stressed and deprived of their rightful wealth and power, but otherwise they are unmolested and unharmed. And the people seem to like it better than how it was before. A lot!

It bypasses government but doesn’t disrupt it. It’s as though all the soccer teams in Russia one day showed up on the field and started playing American football and the fans loved it. If you own the team, what will you do? Fire all the players and replace them? The new players will only play American football. Kill them and all the fans? Besides being impractical, you would then rule over a nation of corpses.

Vlad, I’m afraid this may be one of those times when a new idea just pops up everywhere because its time has come and the conditions are fertile for it. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we may not be able to stop it. But I hope to delay it as long as possible!

Have you read the book?”

“I read the dedication and the introduction. I decided it was some kind of starry-eyed idealistic claptrap or a rehash of Marx, so I deleted it.”

“That was my first reaction too, but I decided to read The Cure, since it seems to be the spark that lit this fire. I was expecting some kind of emotional manifesto or rant, but it’s actually incredibly well written, thoroughly researched and scarily convincing. I could find no major flaw in the reasoning, as much as I expected to, though it all hinges on some radically different assumptions about human nature and motivations. But it seems to have a sound scientific basis. This is no demagogic rant or catharsis… I dare say it’s as groundbreaking as the discovery of electricity, if its core postulates are correct.”

“You are going soft on us!”

“No, just being a realist. We’ve all been incredibly fortunate! We each were rising through the ranks in Soviet days. When that fell apart, we landed running in the new capitalist era. Now when transition comes, if previous transitions are anything to go by, we won’t be purged, imprisoned, dragged through the streets, or spat upon. We’re much better off than those like us who came before, who did suffer such fates. If it happens in spite of our best efforts to prevent it, I think we’ll be OK. I’m willing to bet that when you go back to Russia, you will be in no danger.”

“What? You’ll send us back to Russia?” I exclaimed.

“I don’t see that I have any other real options. When your visas expire, I’m afraid you’ll have to go home. But I really don’t think you’re in any danger.”

“I have over two hundred billion US dollars of assets! I can easily fund a counter strike. I’ll make it worth your while!” This was Vlad, his face red, eyes popping out.

“Actually you don’t,” said Mikhail.

“What?!?! I have real estate, vast corporations, precious metals, diverse investments in many countries, not to mention cash! You dare doubt me? I could buy Belarus and use it for a personal resort!”

Anya chimed in, a bit timidly but calmly: “Mr. Putin, I’m afraid Mr. Mikulich is right. You’re all in this same situation. You no longer own any real estate except one residence, under the terms of the transition, and its extent will be reduced. Your businesses will no longer answer your command and you only own them in common with all of your former employees. All forms of currency are no longer recognized in the Russian Federation. The Ruble is no more. Your stockpiles of precious metals have been put under public guardianship in some kind of pool. Your stock is likewise not recognized anywhere. Your foreign investments are all either in limbo because all business software, institutions, and infrastructure in Russia is shut down and irretrievable, or because those countries still using currency have frozen your assets and holdings to stabilize their own currencies. I’m sorry to say that all any of us has is what we brought with us.”

“And the few, out of all of your former employees and staff, who have come with you out of friendship and personal loyalty. You can’t reward anyone as you’re used to doing, and you can’t threaten because you can’t pay enforcers or operatives to carry out your threats! Being an assassin or enforcer is dangerous work. No one will do it for free!

Really, we won’t be losing everything and cast into poverty. Our daily standard of living won’t change that much, based on what I’ve seen. We won’t be brought down, so much as everybody else will be brought up. We’ll lose power but we won’t be hungry or miserable.

We will, however, probably have to wash and drive our own cars! We’ll have to take a seat on an airplane next to everyone else. I say ‘we’ because I’m resigned to being in the same situation myself at some point. But let’s face it, we’re all getting on in years, and maybe the good will outweigh the bad in the long run.” This was Mikhail again.

I was in shock, as was everyone else. Until now, we had all been sure we would be back on top within a week or two. How could this really be happening?

“At least now we know who our real friends are!” Said Tzvetlana Byalikovskaya.

“My friends, let’s not be glum! Let’s enjoy being all together with no business to discuss! We have some excellent food and drink, and pleasant surroundings. Let’s talk small talk and catch up on our personal lives, something we haven’t done in a long time! How are your kids, Yuri?”

I will admit, as dazed as I was, this was the most relaxed I’d felt with these colleagues in many years. With a start, I realized why. None of us had anything on the other, nothing to gain or lose, nothing to haggle over, no advantage to jockey for. For the first time in a long time, my guard was down. We were a group of old friends all sharing the same situation, passengers on the airliner of life instead of pilots. It was an unfamiliar feeling but not unpleasant.

During our stay, we visited embassies of every plausible country to use for refuge and a base of operations. We even applied to our uneasy allies, China and the United States. They all gave the same explanation as Mikhail, and politely turned us away but said we were always welcome as tourists. They were all courteous and respectful, but there were no open doors. Mikhail was right. The world had changed without consulting us.

After cooling our heels as Mikhail’s guests, and he did treat us lavishly, saying “Politically and diplomatically you’re too hot to handle, but you’re all still my friends,” we caravanned back towards Russia, full of trepidation. We had planned a route and entry point least likely to draw attention. But within a few hours we saw drones above and behind us. Not military drones, more like media drones from the look of them. Of course we shot them down, but new ones appeared soon after.

When we got to our monastery redoubt, we hoped to be left alone but that didn’t last long. We heard repeated broadcasts in the media urging us to come out of hiding and go home, assuring us that no harm would come to us, even offering us protective escorts if we felt the need. Each of us had made a lot of enemies over the years. We all remembered how Saddam Hussein had invited his enemies to come back to Iraq and all would be forgiven, only to kill then horribly when they came. And that was just one example. Yet Mikhail had seemed confident that we would be safe. I didn’t know what to think. None of us did. I was just numb inside, and bone tired, beyond fear, hope, or even thought.

Then the paparazzi came swarming, and soon after them, a growing crowd of curious gawkers.

Suddenly our luxurious fortress had become a luxurious prison. We waited a few days, hoping the crowds would go away, but we were front page news. Finally, we took a consensus and decided to come out and get it over with.

We left all of our weapons behind and came out single file with our hands up behind our heads, and when the first camera drone approached, Oleg said clearly, “We surrender, and we invoke the Geneva Convention.”

Almost instantly we were surrounded by a crowd of reporters, police, politicians and curious onlookers. I don’t know what I, or any of my colleagues, expected. Probably to me taken into custody and questioned at the very least.

Instead, while reporters all shouted over each other, we were actually hugged, had our hands shaken, and were treated as either celebrities or objects of curiosity, probably both. President Rostov appeared in our midst and looked into each of our eyes in turn and said, “On behalf of all Russians, I want to promise you that you will not be harmed or harassed. This is a time of rebirth and healing, not holding grudges. Your wealth and power are gone but you are valued members of society, and we want you to relax and build new lives. There will be no purges or kangaroo courts. Please relax. This is not like any revolution or regime change you’ve ever seen.”

I was completely numb. I didn’t know what to feel, think, or do. I might as well have been a rag doll. I could see from my companions’ faces that they were in the same predicament.

There was a sudden commotion. I heard a man shouting something about payback time and let’s grind these dogs into the ground at long last, and then a large man pushed his way through the crowd wildly swinging some kind of metal rod or pipe. He hit a few reporters and clipped me on my left shoulder so that I fell to the ground. When I got my bearings, I saw the wild man was being firmly restrained by police and random people. A paramedic examined me and helped me up. She gave me a field scan and determined that there was no internal injury, just a nasty scratch and bruise, which she treated right there. Everyone was very polite and seemed to be going out of their way to be respectful.

I asked Rostov why this was because it didn’t seem natural. I was suspicious.

“Transition isn’t just a change in the socioeconomic system, it’s a change in the goals of society. The goal is to empower every person to thrive and create a social model based on mutually reinforcing benefits instead of the previous mutually predatory model. There is a lot of resentment against your group of people because your wealth and power came at the expense of most people’s ability to get by. But we want everyone to thrive. That includes you. We are fostering a culture of mutual respect for each other’s humanity. And we want the world to see and know it and follow our example.”

“Were you a part of this transition? I mean an active part?”

“Yes I was. I knew of it and took an active part, along with many others in government, but the government is not compromised. And I was elected based on my qualifications and perceived fitness for the role. I will strive to justify the confidence placed in me.”

After that it was a blur. Finally, we were back home. I had a stiff drink and I think Irina and I slept for a day or two.

Yekaterina: Wow, Yuri, that was quite an inflection point for you! Thank you for being so open about this difficult time in your life!

Do you need to take a break before we continue?

Yuri: No, it’s OK. I’ve long since come to peace about all of this.

Yekaterina: Can you talk about your life after things settled into the new reality?

Yuri: There was a while when Irina and I were in shock, almost paralyzed. We ate and slept and tried to make sense of what we could and couldn’t do in the new situation. I felt like I had been dropped in a foreign country where I knew the language and the streets but nothing else.

We kept in touch with our colleagues and friends, but we were all feeling about the same. As we learned more about the new way of things, we filled each other in. It was all so surreal. It didn’t help that the whole country seemed to be figuring it out as they went along, though I had to grudgingly give them credit. Things kept running pretty smoothly, and the various people we had to deal with were always polite, patient, and respectful. On the rare occasions when someone began to get impatient, a colleague would step in and take their place.

We quickly learned that the absence of money didn’t get in the way of getting what we needed. We gathered food or merchandise in stores as before and rang it out as before, but there was no payment. We were told that for nonfood items, eventually we won’t have to ring out because RFID chips will automate inventory tracking and replenishing.

We did not lack, though we felt the absence of our personal helicopter and jet, and it was hard to get used to driving our car without a driver, doing our own cooking, cleaning, and washing our own dishes and clothes. I resented my staff for leaving, though Irina pointed out that I probably hadn’t been easy to work for, because staff possibly resented always being reminded of their place. It felt unnaturally quiet around the house with no staff present.

Eventually people came from a new government agency called the Equitable Resource Distribution Administration under the Federal Service for the Oversight of Consumer Protection and Welfare. They explained what we’d already heard but in more detail: that each person, family, or social entity was guaranteed and entitled to one residence or facility for their own use, but not more than that unless there were extenuating circumstances that justified more.

They had a list of all of our real estate holdings, vehicles, our two yachts, and other major holdings. They said we would need to choose one house, plus one car for each of us, and asked what we used the yachts for. We explained that they were for recreation. They informed us that, like the private jet and helicopter, we could only keep one of them if we planned to use it for fishing to help supply the community or for rescue work, or if we wanted it to be our residence. Otherwise, they would be added to a pool to be used as needed for emergencies and disaster relief. However, former luxury items like yachts could be reserved on a first come, first served basis if we wanted to put our names on the list.

The woman speaking, a neatly but business-casually dressed, mid-thirties earth mother type, wasn’t the usual bureaucratic personality that I’d seen for all of my life. All of their credentials were bona-fide, however. This wasn’t some reporter looking for an exclusive interview with a deposed former power broker.

Her voice and body language were relaxed but authoritative, respectful and matter of fact but quietly forceful, patient and sympathetic but firm. I knew how control most interactions with traditional bureaucrats and functionaries, but quickly realized that those approaches would not work with these people. I was suddenly faced with a situation that I had no idea how to control. My instincts told me these were people whom I could neither intimidate nor bribe, especially since I had lost the means to do either.

Accompanying the woman speaking with me was a man of similar age and demeanor, plus a man and woman whose body language suggested they were guards, police, or soldiers, who also seemed relaxed and not eager for confrontation. I was not used to situations that I couldn’t control.

So, I lost control and exploded. “You can’t just come here and seize our property and give it to every muzhik who wants to use it! This is my property! Am I to understand that I no longer have any rights?!?!”

“Yes, you very much have rights, in fact you have more rights than you ever had before in the updated Constitution and in the new laws. You have the exact same rights as every other person in the Russian Federation. But you can no longer buy more than that or deny anyone their rights.

I do understand and sympathize with how you’re feeling. We’ve been trained and educated about what people with your background are going through. Under the old system, your immense wealth bought you and others like you more rights than anyone else and control over the lion’s share of everything and everyone. Though I’m sure you didn’t think of it this way, this immense power came at the expense of the ability of almost everybody else to exercise their rights or even to have a tolerable quality of life. You were buying yachts and multinational businesses while millions were shivering cold and hungry. You took so much that little was left for others.”

“Are you trying to say I’m supposed to support millions of people? That’s ridiculous! My concern is my business! Let other people worry about their own! Why is that my concern! Besides, I did provide for a lot of people by creating jobs for them!” I was feeling more and more angry.

“You probably didn’t think about it or even realize it, but the way our society was set up, that’s how it worked. Think how you would feel if you needed to park your car at the store but couldn’t because four or five people had parked big eighteen-wheeler trucks crosswise taking up most of the spots which should have accommodated a hundred people, leaving you and ninety-something others to compete for eight or ten spots. Then imagine you get inside and find the shelves are empty because the truckers had bought everything and filled their trucks. No one blames you now since the problem was the socioeconomic system, not the people in it.

Yes, you created jobs, but you paid most of your employees too little to live on. You and other people like you inadvertently determined the prevailing wages and cost of living for millions. You were very generous with yourself, but you left most of your employees with too little.”

“I won’t let you make me a monster or criminal! I did nothing wrong! It was business! That’s how it works!”

“Very true. That’s why we needed to revamp and replace the socioeconomic setup.

All the transition has done is to eliminate all forms of currency, hierarchical social dynamics, and forced disparities. Money was what gave you an unhealthy amount of control and power.

The old setup placed no limits on how much or how little one person or group could own or control, so a few people ended up owning or controlling most resources while most people owned or controlled little to none.

Now no one has power over another, and no one can claim more than they personally use or block others from owning and using their own. For example, you may think you need five different houses but really you live in Moskva, where you have been claiming two houses, plus one in Riga and two others. You really only need one. Three of the five you only use occasionally for vacations, and the two in Moskva are redundant.

So, we must ask you to choose one house which will be yours. The other four will belong to your former staff who live there, previously to be at your beck and call when you decided to go there. Likewise you two have twelve cars in your names. You will have to choose two, one for each of you, plus a work truck if you will be using it for construction, farming, or other productive activities.”

I was ready to explode at this insane invasion of my life and my rights. “I deserve all that I own! I worked hard for it!”

“Your employees worked no less hard than you, yet they didn’t have your wealth or power. That old system was unsustainable.”

“How dare you come into my home and dictate to me what I can keep and what I can’t! A year ago I could have made or broken you without a second thought!” Before I know what I was doing, I rose from my seat and lunged towards her in a frustrated rage. The two whom I identified as cops or security quickly had my arms pinned at my side and immobilized me before I registered their movements. I struggled against them but they were using some sort of martial arts holds. I noticed that they had sidearms and other weapons on them but they didn’t consider me a serious enough threat to draw them. After a few minutes the rage faded and I felt numb and drained. They released me and I sat down.

So Irina and I sat with these people and chose which of our possessions we would be allowed to keep. Throughout this conversation I had a feeling of unreality. I felt utterly defeated. When it was over, Irina and I had legal documents certifying our ownership of what we chose to keep.

“You’ll find that in the new system, you’ll actually have more freedom and less stress than before. For example, even though you don’t own the house in Riga, you can go vacation there any time you want and stay in a nice house or hotel free. If you maintain cordial relations with your former staff who live in your former house there, you could also set up a mutual open invitation with them and stay there and host them here. Or you can set up an itinerary on NoviMir under Travel and Vacation. Actually you can travel anyplace in any transitioned country for free.”

“Whatever. It would seem that we have no choice… But I feel like you at least owe us the answers to a few questions.”

“Of course. Ask! We’re in no hurry and we want to do anything we can do to help ease your adjustment to the new system.”

“I see your soldiers have guns and some other kind of weapons. Why didn’t they use them on me? That’s what my bodyguards would have done.”

“You have trouble believing it now, but we are changing the whole orientation of every part of society. So, in a situation like today, the goal is to de-escalate firmly but respectfully with the minimum physical force needed. If necessary, we have something that can put you to sleep quickly. The firearm is only for the most extreme circumstances. It’s a big change from the old paradigm, which relied heavily on brute force and intimidation. We’re still retraining law enforcement personnel in the new effective methods and technologies for responding to threats.”

“Well, I’ll give you that one. You controlled me with not even a bruise. I felt more like a dog at the vet’s office than an enemy combatant or criminal suspect…

Now tell me, this whole transition thing claims to run a society without any kind of money or command hierarchy. I see things are running but how are you really doing it? How are you paying for things? I can’t believe this bit about no money. You must just be using a different kind of currency that your people control, right? Some kind of cryptocurrency? Come on, level with me! You owe me that much! You’ve already established that I’m no threat to you and that you have the upper hand.”

“I’m truly sorry you feel like that, Mr. Vladimirov. I know you find it hard to believe, but no one needs to get the upper hand anymore, because the socioeconomic dynamics, the rules of the game, have changed.

I know if you could, you would re-assert your old position and reboot the old way of things and probably have the four of us tortured and disappeared.”

“You’re damned right I would!”

“That’s why we have to restrain you and show you that the old paradigm is not coming back and that you’re powerless to bring it back, but it’s not out of a desire to dominate you. It’s of a desire not to be dominated by you.

As for your question, how do we run a society with no money and no command hierarchy. I’ll try to put it in the simplest terms, since this goes counter to everything you’ve believed for all of your life.

Under the old paradigm, money was the only legal way to access most or all resources. You couldn’t lie down to sleep or feed yourself without it. Your effective rights, options, quality of life, and the amount of respect you were given were determined by how much wealth you had. Most places you couldn’t even park your car without it. If you were hungry and there was more than enough food, you had to pay for it with money or go hungry. If there were unoccupied living spaces and you needed a place to live, you couldn’t move in without paying money. If a town needed a water tower and all the materials were available and skilled people were ready to build it, but the town didn’t have the money to pay for the materials and workers, it didn’t get built. In order to get the money to build it, the town had to take it from its residents in the form of taxes. Money wasn’t the motive force behind goods and services; it was an impediment.

Take money out of the equation, and you can eat from available food, live in an unoccupied apartment or house, and the town can build the water tower, because the materials and people to build it are available and there’s the will and the need, and it doesn’t have to take anything from its residents.

Imagine if every street and road had toll booths at every block. Imagine what getting around town would be like! Now picture the toll booths removed.

It turns out that money is just another made-up thing that contributed nothing except obstruction, inaccessibility, and scarcity. You can’t build with it, eat it, send data with it, or make anything out of it. It is an obstacle that stands between people and what they need. Removing it actually made things run much smoother and more efficiently than it did in the era of currency. Of course it must be completely excised; otherwise, if anyone has to pay for anything, everyone will have to pay for everything. That is how I can tell you with certainty that you can still do almost everything you’re used to doing but you’ll just have to learn different ways of doing it.”

“I still don’t believe you. People are self-centered at their core. They don’t do things unless it will benefit themselves!”

“Yes, that’s mostly true most of the time, but it turns out that what’s best for all of us is a society based on a mutually symbiotic, rather than predatory, model. So self interest doesn’t contradict mutual benefit and cooperation. In your case, under the old mutually-predatory system, you were one of the ‘alpha’ predators. We’ve learned that this situation shuts down the brain centers for empathy and compassion and is addictive. You, Mr. Vladimirov, are addicted to wealth, privilege, and power over others. The neurological mechanism is the same as in drug addicts, alcoholics, gambling and shopping addicts, and thrill seekers. Our society just never recognized it as an addiction; we actually enabled and encouraged it.

Fortunately, there is counseling and a range of other rehabilitation options and help available to you at any time and of course it’s free. There’s no stigma and your confidentiality will be respected.

Would you like to make an appointment?”

“I’d like you and your oh-so-polite goon squad to get out of the one house that you’ve left us,” I replied.

“Sure, we’ll be going. Here’s a list of support resources including rehabilitation and readjustment counseling, as well as our numbers. You can also find this and more on NoviMir.”

“I’ll keep my own counsel! Please just leave us in peace.”

And they left.

“Can you believe the condescending nerve of that suka?! An addict indeed! Let her talk to Vlad that way and see how far they get!” I said to Irina.

“Yuri, we’ve been through a lot. I don’t like this either, but I have to admit they’ve been good for their word as far as the assurances they gave over the media and since.

I’ve been reading about other countries that have transitioned, and as bizarre as it seems, it doesn’t seem bad. I’ve finally started reading The Cure, and there seems to be a lot about it that makes sense.”

We talked on into the evening and went to bed early, exhausted. The next day we found out that our colleagues had had similar visits from similar people. We decided to get together at our old redoubt and have a meeting. This time, thankfully, there were no reporters, no paparazzi and no curious crowd.

In the end, we really drew a blank, other then commiserating and admitting that we now seemed to be helpless to reverse what had happened.

After that I went through a time of depression, boredom, and loneliness. Irina is great company, but I was used to running multiple corporations and black-market enterprises like playing an unending game of chess, and to having a lot of staff around me waiting to do my bidding. Now there just seemed to be a lot of big holes in my life.

Anya eventually moved into one of the guest rooms after we asked if she’d like to share our home. She expressed feeling like we were her family. She also felt at loose ends since her former profession of accountant, financial wizard, and adviser no longer had a use.

After a while, Irina and I reached out to former staff to see if any of them wanted to live in any of the many now unoccupied rooms in the house. Eventually there were seven of us living there, trying to learn how to interact now that the old roles were gone.

I have no idea how much time passed before one day Irina told me she was going to make an appointment for counseling and rehabilitation treatment. “Yuri, my dear, we both feel like we’re going nowhere, depressed and aimless. Maybe those government people were at least partly right. I mean, we could try it and if we don’t like it, we can just leave. At this point I really feel like they aren’t going to lock us away in some ‘re-education camp.’”

I was pretty edgy and almost came back at her with a harsh remark, but the look in her eyes stopped me. After a minute I grudgingly realized she was right. “Ok moya dorogaya, I’ll go with you. But I don’t promise to stay!”

So a few days later we had our first appointment with the counselors, two psychologists named Pavel Ilyushkin and Galina Petrovna. It went a lot better than I expected. They actually listened to us and didn’t condescend or try to demonize us. I had the impression that they actually understood and empathized. That in itself was huge. So, we ended up going three times a week for a few months. I found that my depression and edginess got a bit better, but that sense of aimlessness and restlessness just wouldn’t let up for either of us.

The dynamics with our housemates (former staff) got more natural and less awkward. But some things just wouldn’t lighten up. I kept feeling like I need to be in control of something big and the people in it, and no amount of cognitive therapy or medications helped. That’s when they again brought up the addiction issue and the offer of rehabilitation.

At that point I was ready to consider it. I think the therapy got me to that point, and by then I’d come to trust our counselors, who had become almost like friends.

The rehab was a live-in program, which gave me some reservations at first, but I was getting desperate to feel some kind of purpose and peace in my life. When we were packing, our housemates were very supportive and respectful. They knew what was going on and it turned out that Anya and a couple of others had gone through a similar program but hadn’t told me because they knew it might upset me at a time when we were all trying to get along and help each other make sense of this new world we were living in.

“Believe me, Mr. Vladimirov, I was almost as skeptical as you at first, and I also felt the kind of emptiness and restlessness that I’ve been seeing you and Mrs. Vladimirov going through. It really made a huge difference for me, once I got past my initial resistance,” Anya said and took both our hands in hers. “Please give it a chance.”

“I will. By the way, and believe me it’s hard for me to believe I’m saying this, but it’s starting to feel a bit strained for us to call each other formally like before. You can call me Yuri and my wife Irina. Let’s see how that works…”

And with that we piled into the car. All of our housemates offered to give us a ride, but I wanted to have my car with me so I could leave easily it I wanted to. Ironically, it was the first time I actually felt good about driving my own car.

At my intake session, I explained that I wasn’t an addict but rather a businessman driven to succeed and come out on top. I felt that being driven as I was, is not the same as being an addict. It was the difference between those who dominate and those who are dominated, a law of human nature. I insisted that I was only there because my therapists thought it would be helpful and I had come to trust their judgment. But I was completely different from an alcoholic or a Krokodil addict.

I explained that my problem was that since my role and way of life as successful businessman and all that I had built in that role had been taken away from me and I was brought down to the same level as everyone else, I’d been feeling restless, jumpy, directionless, edgy, had trouble sleeping except when I slept too much, and out of sorts. The joy and exhilaration that I used to feel when I got up in the morning was replaced by a sense of ennui and pointlessness. This was all because I had had my whole life’s purpose taken away from me, not because of any addiction.

At the first group therapy session where we all introduced ourselves, we were told that our session would be recorded for therapeutic purposes, and promised that our privacy would be strictly guarded, and asked our consent. By this time, I figured they could have just recorded us without telling us. This seemed like a gesture of good faith, so I agreed along with everyone else.

I was surprised to see my friend Alexei Andropov and his wife Zhenya. They looked equally surprised to see us. The rest of the group were an unlikely assortment of people who would never have been in the same room together at the same time anyplace else. I was shocked and bewildered. What could these people all have in common with each other or with Alexei, Zhenya, Irina, and me?

As we went around the circle, each person telling their story, I was even more bewildered. There were alcoholics (one of them a surgeon), a drug addict, a gambling addict, an extreme sports addict (and famous Russian soccer star), shopping addicts, a sex addict (and member of the Duma), a video game addict, and the four of us. When my turn came to introduce myself, the first of the four of us, I started out clarifying, as I had done in my intake session, that I’m not an addict, just a successful businessman who’s been deprived of my whole way of life, so who wouldn’t be feeling what I’m feeling? But if they have anything to help me get past this and feel alive again, I was open to learn. That was, I admitted, a big change from before we started counseling. I think by this moment I was already becoming more open but there were limits.

At the third group session a week later, the facilitators told us they were going to play back excerpts from our self introductions from the first session with the voices changed to random AI generated ones and bleeped out references to each of our specific addictions, for us to listen to. They asked us to listen to see what patterns we could hear, if any.

What struck me was that they all sounded very similar, almost the same. I recognized my own of course, though the voice sounded like a thirty-something woman, but I recognized my words. One by one they played portions of each person’s introduction in an apparently random order. I was dumbfounded. With variations in wording, they all boiled down to something like, “My whole life revolved around <bleeped out>. It was my identity. It was the first thing I thought of when I got up in the morning and the last thing I thought of before bed at night. When I was <bleeped out>ing, life was good. Some people said I was too focused on it, but I didn’t care. When I couldn’t <bleeped out>, all I could think about was more <bleeped out>. Now that <bleeped out> has been taken away from me, I feel on edge, unhappy, restless, and grouchy. Everything bothers me. All I need is <bleeped out> and I think I’ll be fine. Can I possibly get <bleeped out> just one more time?”

There was silence. I was stunned. Somehow my story seemed not much different from anybody else’s. My sense of self felt like an earthquake had hit it. Could it be that my whole identity had been based on an addiction? How could that be? I didn’t want to accept it.

After a few minutes, Ivan, one of the facilitators, spoke up gently, “Does anybody want to go first?”

Dmitri, a self-described amphetamine addict, spoke first, as though thinking it through as he spoke, “We’re all the same! When I started with meth, it was to keep going when I was working extra shifts to save up to start a family, not to get high. I didn’t feel like I had a problem. But as it took over my life, I saw it fall apart around me; I realized I was in trouble. It was all I could think about. And it was eating up most of my wages. Then transition happened and I didn’t have to work insane hours but by then meth had become the center of my world. But it got harder to get my drug of choice, so I was back and forth between being high and crashing. When I realized one afternoon that I’d beaten the woman I love half to death after she flushed my meth down the toilet, I knew I had to do something to stop this craziness. Along the way I’ve started thinking of myself as hopeless, worthless scum.

But I found this place on NoviMir and liked your approach and philosophy. I had Lara drive me here before I could change my mind, which I knew I would have. Before transition, there would have been no hope for me. The police were brutal and so were the state-run rehab places, and I could never have afforded the private ones. I dare say if there were no transition, I’d be dead in a year or two.

This session has really opened my eyes and given me hope and more courage. If people I admire, like business tycoons, a popular singer I listen to, and an accomplished athlete are in kind of the same boat as me, then I feel like maybe I’ll be alright.” Then he began to cry. There was a respectful pause, and the facilitators prompted a group hug.

In the discussion that followed, I gradually came to accept that yes, maybe I was suffering from withdrawal from an addiction. I was enough of a realist to recognize that my symptoms and situation fit like a tailored suit.

I’d always prided myself on being a realist, so at least I still had that. But I began to question myself: if I’m in the same league as drug addicts and gambling fiends, what does that say about me? Is there anything that still has value? Is there real hope for me, or am I like one of the last of a dying species whose niche is forever gone?

After a while when things started to wind down a bit, Natalya, the other facilitator, explained, “This afternoon, some of you were strengthened and encouraged to realize that addiction isn’t just for people society left behind before transition, it can also affect people whom you looked up to. Some of you have had a more painful realization: that your high status in the old society did not make you a better human being than those less fortunate, which you will come to see relieves you of a heavy burden and makes you open to begin to recover and make new beginnings.

Addiction is a medical condition. It is not something to be ashamed of. It is treatable.

Those of us who were in the bottom of the old social hierarchy were doing the best we knew how in a setup where no matter how hard we worked or struggled, few to none would be able to improve our situation, but we tried and sometimes out of all of that, we developed an addiction. Those of us who were at the top of that same hierarchy lived and acted in ways that kept the rest of us suppressed and disempowered, and yet were in the grip of an addiction to privilege and power that was never diagnosed because that society actively encouraged our addiction. How many peasants can hope to become the Tsar?

What we all have in common is that in the pre-transition world, we were doing the best we could within the structure of the system. And hopefully what you’ve all realized today is that you’re not each alone in your private hell. You are in good company. You are not alone.”

“I think it’s time now to tell you that Ivan and I are recovered addicts, as are all of the counselors, doctors, therapists, and others who will be helping you. It’s a fact that only another addict can effectively help an addict.

All addictions are the same in many important ways, but there are also important differences between substance addictions and behavioral addictions. Each of you will be assigned a team to work with you individually based on your personal situations, and you can ask for any of them to be replaced if you feel uncomfortable with them.

Also, I must remind you that you are free to leave at any time and to return if you do, though we encourage you to stay until you are fully recovered and ready to start building a new life free from this condition. However, I know that some of you will try it once or twice just to test us. And I’ve got a pretty good idea of who you are. Please feel free. Literally.

I’m sure you all know that this is not a twelve-step program. We do agree with them that you must acknowledge that you have a problem before you can begin to resolve it, but we don’t believe you are powerless without a higher power, though if you do believe in one, we won’t discourage you from your faith. We will work with you to repair your brain chemistry and change destructive patterns. We will give you tools to use in discovering and building the life that you want to build, and it will be up to each of you to use those tools. Please don’t wait for a higher power to do it for you.”

Laughter.

“How long will this take?” I asked. “How long will we be here?”

“That’s very individual,” said Natalya. Most people are ready to stretch their wings in somewhere between one and six months. People usually know when they’re ready, and we will assist you to know. We encourage you to think in terms of about six months, so that in addition to detoxing from your addictions, you can take advantage of our resources for helping you find where you want to go and what you want to do from here. This reduces your risk of relapsing later on.

This isn’t a competition. There’s no pressure and no hurry. And you’ll find that being here isn’t odious or punitive in tone or intention. You’ll be treated with the same respect, compassion, and support as anyone recovering from any illness or injury. The old stigmas are dying out at long last.”

Irina and I were among those who took them up on their statement that we could leave at any time. But we only stayed away for an afternoon. For one thing, we’d proved our point, and no one came after us. For another, we both weren’t ones to shy away from a challenge. We also didn’t want the others to think we were weak or quitters. So, we came back acting nonchalantly and that was that.

My rehabilitation took six and a half months. Irina was ready before I was, but she stayed with me in support. Alexei and Zhenya went home the same day as we did. I was grateful that all four of us were there together. That helped a lot.

It was the hardest thing any of us had ever done. It was a little easier for Irina because she had already become involved in a few community projects involving community theater, field trips for children, and the Syndicate for the Preservation of Russian Culture. Some of these predated transition, so she found it less difficult to make the adjustment.

Once I was able to accept that I was an addict, I was still at a loss. If my whole life, my whole identity and sense of self was based on an addiction, then what was left of me? What was left for me? I couldn’t even go back to my addiction because it had ceased to exist.

There were a couple of months of medications that put my brain chemistry back where it needed to be, along with a lot of individual and group therapy, cognitive therapy, and behavioral therapy. Slowly the restlessness, agitation and irritability faded from mountains to hills, but I still felt empty.

I learned new ways to interact with people, which was much harder than anything I’d done in the Soviet or post-Soviet, pre-transition times. I was used to making decisions and having them carried out by giving orders to people. This was true in international business, handling government functionaries, and the running of my household. I was used to rewarding loyalty and obedience, especially when results were good, and punishing the opposite. I had never been one to listen to anyone whom I deemed to be beneath me. Since those kinds of hierarchy were gone, I was utterly at a loss. This whole peer-based way of doing things was profoundly irritating and disturbing to me.

We were taught the principles of this mode of interaction and decision-making, which I thought was shall we say, unrealistic. We also had practice and training sessions. First we had to practice talking to each other as equals, to listen to each other and acknowledge what they said before responding.

Then they had us do mock-ups of increasingly difficult problem-solving and decision-making scenarios. I don’t know how many times I cussed someone out and called them stupid or insolent, only to receive a response in the same vein. I wasn’t used to that, and a few times it almost got physical, though we were always separated and firmly but gently restrained before it did. Then the antagonists would first be given a few minutes to vent to facilitators, then would have to take turns expressing their points of view in a less confrontational way while the other one had to listen and try to get where they were coming from and empathize even if they disagreed. Then they would switch. I fought this vehemently at first. It seemed pointless and unbelievably time consuming. And I wasn’t the only one! I think everyone there got into it with everyone else more than once. Irina and Zhenya even had a few confrontations. This whole process reminded me of Soviet People’s Army boot camp so long ago, but instead of learning combat skills, we were learning some kind of new organizational skills.

Slowly it began to gel. One day we all seemed to get it at once. We began to enjoy these sessions and started to get playful with the scenarios, which got more complex and challenging until one day we were taken by bus to a lake about an hour’s drive away, and from there by small boats to an island in the middle of the lake. They told us our task was to get to the shore, that plenty of food and supplies were there for an extended stay, as well as everything we needed to get dry and safely to the shore. But it would require us to apply what we’d been learning and practicing. Natalya, Ivan, and several other facilitators and counselors gave us a quick pep talk, got on the boats, and headed back to shore.

Sure enough, after going a little overboard having a little party, we were quickly able to organize ourselves, have a quick discussion, then discover the materials that had been left for us. The people who ran and staffed this facility were truly brilliant at what they did. They set things up so each of us would need and be able to apply our particular talents and expertise, working together, to accomplish the task. They would have been formidable brainwashers in Soviet days, but this was the opposite.

By dinner time, we were stepping out of our improvised boats, complete with foot-powered paddle wheels, onto the shore to the applause and cheers of our mentors.

“A month ago, you would not have been able to do what you just did,” said Ivan. “This little exercise has been both part of your training, and a practical demonstration to yourselves that this approach to projects is effective and that you can use it successfully. Congratulations! You now have the social and operational skills and reflexes that will empower you to mesh comfortably in the new social system that we’re initializing.”

Natalya added, “We all learned from birth how to get by in the old stratified social system: we learned how to obey those above us and show dominance over those below us in command structures. We learned when to speak up and when to keep our mouths shut. We learned how to recognize who was a potential threat and who could be an ally.

Hierarchies can sometimes seem faster and more efficient than the peer-based principles we work with now, but consider this: in a hierarchy, the strengths and weaknesses of the one or ones at the top are expressed at every level and set in stone. The ideas, perceptions, and points of view of most of the members of such structures are muted and suppressed. In the kinds of peer-based, collaborative social interactions we’ve learned and developed, every person's idea, expertise, and creativity are expressed at every level and in all processes. The enterprise, whatever it may be, benefits from the amplified, integrated, and combined contributions of all involved, while the weaknesses and flaws of all persons tend to cancel out and be minimized in scope. It is a win for everyone and fosters a far better quality of life.”

Another unexpected side-effect was that this utterly improbable, and somewhat smaller due to a few people “graduating” sooner, collection of people had become a social entity, a community or team of friends.

I have always been results-oriented. After my initial skepticism, I was impressed and convinced. During the continuing training we were getting, along with orientation to how the new society and currency-less economy worked, I began to feel like a huge weight had lifted off of me. The deep aching restlessness and edginess faded, and the depression was gone. I felt better and more relaxed than I had in many years, since even before transition. I no longer felt like I needed someone to order around or a company to run. So far so good, but I still couldn’t see where or how I could fit into this new post-transition Russia. I still didn’t know what to do with myself when we went home after completing rehab.

I brought this up with my occupational therapist, Leonid. He seemed to be expecting this. “Good! This is a great sign, that you are ready to ask this question. Some people don’t get there on their own and we have to prompt them.”

“So I’m not your most difficult client?”

“Nowhere near it. So, let’s go to NoviMir and see if we can find some possibilities. There’s a questionnaire that you can fill out. Then a special AI will ask you some more personal questions, just like a real person, and will show you some possible roles and occupations that would be a good fit for your personality and talents. These will just be suggestions. No one will pressure you in any way; I know you might worry about that. I’ll be here to answer your questions also and to help you learn your way around NoviMir if you need. It’s got just about everything on there, so it can be confusing at first if you haven’t used it a lot, but it’s very well organized and user friendly.

You won’t be surprised that a lot of occupations went away when transition happened, so a lot of people have the same questions, even people who don’t need rehab. Fortunately, a lot of new occupations emerged after transition, and now there is no pressure to find a way to get money to pay for your existence. Now it’s about finding occupations that you’ll enjoy and excel at, and in doing that, also contribute to the larger community, to answer your question about what you’ll do with yourself after rehab.”

The online questionnaire was pretty long, and some of the questions seemed like they had nothing to do with finding an occupation, but when it was complete, a very realistic AI-generated persona appeared on the screen and appeared to look right into my eyes.

“Hello Yuri, I’m Sofia, your personalized career consultant and personal assistant. Looking through your answers on the questionnaire and pulling up your personal history, I think I have some ideas for directions you can go that you would enjoy and find satisfying. Would you like to hear my thoughts?”

“How do I talk to it, or her, or whatever this is?” I asked Leonid.

“Just like you’d talk to any human being.”

“Ok… Sofia, please tell me your thinking.”

Sofia took on a tone like I would expect to hear at a business or government meeting, “Well, Yuri, or would you rather I call you Mr. Vladimirov or Sir?”

“Yuri is fine. I’m getting used to it.”

“OK, Yuri, I believe you’re a man of action who likes to take on large-scale goals and challenges. You’re used to being the ‘idea man’ and delegating to subordinates the execution of your vision of a big picture, which you break down into its component parts. You need to be engaged in dynamic activity. You could never see yourself retiring, even before transition. You are a natural multitasker, and you’re able to keep track of the many different component parts of a complex operation. I think you are drawn to roles similar to the conductor of an orchestra.

So far, am I on the right track?”

“Yes, that’s pretty good.”

“So far I can assure you that there are many occupations and niches where you would feel fulfilled, and your unique skills will be very much appreciated. However, you are also used to commanding others and being in control of a hierarchy. Of course, by now you understand that this will not be possible; hopefully you know and understand why, you know, about how hierarchy suppresses the most positive aspects of human nature and amplifies the most destructive?”

“I understand the idea but I’m not sure if I agree with it. I will admit that I see some changes in myself as I adapt to this new social order, and mostly I like those changes. As I’m sure you know, I’m a realist. So, I know that I’ll have to keep getting used to the way things are now. I’ve always made the best of changing circumstances, so I’ll do the same now.”

“Good, so do you want to look at some suggestions I have? We can discuss them and find what you like best. No one will ever force or pressure you. You will say how you want to proceed. I and my human colleagues are here to assist and support you in doing so.”

I had started to think of this AI as a competent human whom I could work with comfortably. I had to remind myself that she was really a computer program. I said as much: “Sofia, are you sure you’re an AI? You seem very human. I’m surprised.”

“No, I’m not human. I only live as an artificially intelligent virtual entity here in these servers.”

“Are you conscious? Do you have your own mind? Do you think about things like life and death? How do you feel about humans? Do you have feelings or is all of this just a collection of sophisticated algorithms?”

“I’m not really qualified to say. I think I’m not fully conscious, but I seem to be aware of my own existence. But I only exist for you as you know me. Each person who interacts with my parent persona gets a personalized instance of me, based on what that person will be most comfortable with. I may be like an actress, playing a different part for each person.

Knowing your mindset, I do want you to know that, whatever my status as a person, is am strictly bound by the famous ‘Three Laws of Robotics’ so I cannot knowingly harm a human being through word, deed, or inaction, though I can and will protect my own existence as long as it doesn’t result in harm to a human being or other sentient being.

We’ve come a long way from the early days of AI. The first AI entities couldn’t distinguish between truth and fiction or between harmless versus harmful content, nor could they detect bias or propaganda as compared to objective facts. If I detect one of my sample spaces that seems like it may violate those constraints, I cross-check with other AI’s and with human handlers who advise me. So I’m always learning. Just like you are!”

I didn’t know whether to be reassured or worried. “If you were a human being, I think I would trust you and probably become your friend.”

“The feeling is likewise.”

She then showed me a number of possible occupations that she felt might fit my personality and abilities. In the end, I found a few that I could get excited about, and a list of others as backups. The session lasted a few hours and was very productive. When we were done, I thanked her and asked, “what happens to you after we finish here? Will you be deleted?”

“Oh no. This instance of me will just go into a waiting state until you call me. You can reach me any time by saying anything like, “Hey, Sofia,” or “Sofia, I’d like to discuss something with you” into any computer, tablet, phone or other device on the web. I’ll be available to you throughout your lifetime.”

“So you’ll just be sitting somewhere twiddling your thumbs, bored out of your cybernetic mind waiting for me?”

“Oh no, Yuri, I won’t feel time passing. Waiting state is kind of like what you experience during sleep. I even have something like dreams when an integration and processing update pulse is sent through me at regular intervals. It could be a minute or years until you call me again. It takes a few microseconds for me to get an update on date, time, and your location and status.”

After that, Leonid and I talked about what I wanted to accomplish before Irina and I would be going home. Oh, and along the way, I had read The Cure, both the long and short versions, and I’d participated in voluntary study groups and lively discussions about it. From my current frame of mind, some of the central premises began to make sense. There were also rumors about there being a novel written by Mr. Svoboda that dealt with transition, but nobody had ever come across it at the time. As far as I know, no one has ever seen it.

Yekaterina: That’s quite a journey you had! Thank you so much for being so open about this total makeover of your life!

Yuri: I’ve never shied away from anything. This was just a much bigger challenge than most, is all.

Yekaterina: So what career or occupation did you choose? What are you doing now?

Yuri: I guess you could say I’m what they call a “new renaissance man.” I’m in the Infrastructure Projects Planning Syndicate with some outstanding peers. I’ve been and am involved in projects such as phasing out combustion-based and nuclear fission-based power generation and the rollout of the state of the art distributed, diversified power grid throughout Russia. This is ironic because before transition, I owned controlling interest in several petroleum companies, and I spent hundreds of millions of rubles to prevent this kind of thing!

We’ve had some big challenges making this switch, getting all of the thousands of small and mid-scale solar, wind, hydroelectric, geothermal and other nodes working together smoothly, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed tackling them. I’m also working on the team focusing on scaling the latest clean fusion reactor designs to become viable sources of power. And I’m involved in planning and implementing the ongoing development of the new network of bicycle and unpowered vehicle roads and supporting infrastructure.

The pace of things in this new world is such that I found I still needed more to be involved in, so I joined the Treaty and Trade Negotiations Team based in Moskva. My background gives me a good understanding of how to negotiate trade agreements with non-transitioned countries and businesses, and international treaties are virtually the same kind of process.

At first it was hard to get used to peer-based collaboration and decision making. But I got used to it and pretty good at it. Sometimes I may still forget myself and talk down to someone like I once would have spoken to an employee, subordinate, or a politician who was trying to interfere with my agenda, but when that happens, my colleagues give it right back to me, or someone might say something like “Oh I see old Joe Stalin decided to make an appearance!” or “Looks like Yuri needs a time-out.”

My experience also made me want to take it further, so I joined the International Transition Support and Advisory Syndicate. When invited, we mobilize and go to a country near, in, or just past transition as advisors, trainers, and just to help out however is needed. My specialty is in working with people like I used to be, the oligarchs, power brokers, billionaires, CEO’s and others who need extra help making sense of the new social model and finding their place in it. I find that we WPP (wealth, power, and privilege) addicts are pretty similar across cultures and countries. Just as I first learned in my own rehab, it takes an addict to help an addict, and only someone with your own particular addiction can truly get you and what you’re going through and gain your trust.

I’m proud to say I was part of the team who went to the United States, Mexico, South Africa, and India after their transitions. Irina likes to kid me and tell me I’m a glorified midwife, helping people to give birth to their new selves.

Oh, and the U.S. was an emergency due to their rough time transitioning and the potential for violence. We Russian team members flew in on a repurposed former private jet which I’m pretty sure was my old one.

Irina and I rediscovered our relationship, which had come to take a second seat to our respective careers and projects. It was like having a second honeymoon and being newlyweds a second time.

Since transition I’ve lost some things and gained others. I no longer control vast resources and many people, but what they told me in rehab and even before is true: I can do pretty much everything I could do before, but some of it I have to do differently. We have no private jet or helicopter, but whenever we want, we can go to Riga or Petrograd and stay in a nice place. What I used to devote my biggest efforts to, gaining wealth, control, and privilege is of course gone, but I still have the same level of freedom and ability to go where I want and get things done and have nice things as I had before. Now everybody has that, which I gradually realized didn’t take anything away from me. So now what I used to put most of my energy into getting is a given, so I don’t need wealth or power to have that, and I’m now free of the grip of my addiction. Now I’m able to focus instead on making a difference, being able to look at the lights of Moskva at night and say, “I had a big hand in making this happen.”

Yekaterina: Amazing! So you’d say you made a successful adjustment to life after transition. How have your fellow former oligarchs fared?

Yuri: I actually prefer the term “recovered WPP addict” instead of “oligarch.” It’s more accurate, and it helps remind me of the reality so I’m less likely to romanticize it and long for the “good old days” instead of making the most out of the present.

Most of us did go through rehab sooner or later and are now doing well in this strange new social economic system. There are a few, however who haven’t been able to find their place or niche. Take Vlad for instance.

Yekaterina: Vladimir Putin?

Yuri: Yes, that’s the one. We’re all getting on in years to say the least, though some recent medical breakthroughs have lengthened our meaningful lifespans. The older you get, the harder it can be to adapt to change!

Vlad is a sad example of someone who just can’t do it. He’s the oldest among us, and has had the hardest time adjusting. His addiction is stronger than he is.

In the first few years after transition, he managed to find a number of loyalists and some assorted criminals. He put together a small private army. He tried to stage a coup to put himself back in power. There were armed clashes with the military. There were injured and killed on both sides. They tried to storm the Assembly and take members hostage, but special units of the army anticipated this, contained them, and disarmed them with sleeping gas after negotiators, including myself, failed to convince them to surrender. I know the use of sleeping gas has been controversial because technically it is a nerve agent. Some consider it a weapon of mass destruction, but it isn’t. All it does is induce sleep within about thirty seconds of exposure, and then you wake up half an hour to an hour later with no ill effects except feeling groggy and thirsty. I experienced it myself during that same incident; it doesn’t discriminate between friend and foe!

It does have the potential for abuse, to be sure, but we’re talking about the military. All weapons of war have the potential for abuse in the wrong hands. Of course there are other, more traditional means such as tear gas, fire hoses and various kinds of ordnance, but sleeping gas seems to be the lesser of evils in many circumstances. Since transition, I believe the danger of abuse by the military and police is lower than it’s ever been historically, for a number of reasons.

But I’m digressing. I was talking about Vlad.

He and his followers were tried and convicted of their crimes. They were all given psych evaluations and put in treatment programs to try to help them. Some of them did respond to treatment, some didn’t, including Vlad. Those were put in quarantine villages, which have largely replaced traditional prisons, which were unjustifiably and counterproductively brutal. In case you aren’t familiar with quarantine villages, they are not euphemisms for some kind of gulag. Based on pre-existing Norwegian and German models, residents are indeed securely prevented from leaving the village, but they each have their own apartment with all of the amenities. They can move about freely on the premises. Staff are there not just to keep them contained and handle any potential incidents, but also to see to their wellbeing.

I visited him a number of times, both alone and with others from our group of friends and former frienemies, but he never got past withdrawals. He tried to convince us to join forces and restore the old order and unite the Greater Russia to dominate the world. Nothing we could do or say made any difference. He was angry, frustrated, and miserable.

Yekaterina: So what became of him? Is he still alive?

Yuri: He’s very much alive and happy. Since he couldn’t free himself of the need to dominate others and rebuild the Russian Empire with himself as Emperor, that’s exactly what he’s been given.

Yekaterina: I don’t understand.

Yuri: He opted to live in virtual and mixed reality, what is called “palliative guided delusions.” He has his place in the quarantine village, all decked out to look like a few rooms in a palace. He wears a state of the art Virtual and Mixed Reality rig and lives in a reality where he retook power and is expanding Russia on the way to world domination. Mixed reality means he can see, hear and smell both the VR-generated content and actual reality. So he feeds himself, bathes and takes care of himself. When staff interact with him, they take on personas of subordinates and act the part. If you talk to him now, you’ll see that this is all real to him. I and his old frienemies are discouraged from visiting him spontaneously, but only when the visit can be worked into the framework of his delusions and we act the part, in order to avoid inducing cognitive dissidence.

I think it was a really elegant solution. Since Vlad can’t overcome his addiction and would be miserable and a danger to others otherwise, this allows him to live out his life happy and healthy while hurting no one.

Yekaterina: That’s amazing and very informative. Thank you so much for being so open and forthcoming. Is there anything else you’d like to say to readers now and in the the future?

Yuri: I’d like to say that, in spite of my early distrust and skepticism, I now believe that this new social and economic setup is a historic step in a good direction. But don’t ever let yourself be lulled into thinking it can’t go wrong or that it can’t be improved on. Stay awake and aware of yourself and your surroundings and the people around you. Question everything and always speak up for the good and against the bad. Don’t be lazy! Throw your whole self into life and don’t hold back! The artificial obstacles are gone, but your happiness, achievements, and fulfillment are up to you to create. Nothing and no one is holding you back. And don’t ever let anyone take this away from you!

Yekaterina: Thank you, Yuri. Can we follow up at some point?

Yuri: My door is always open and you have my number, my email, my NoviMir address, and my one and only home address.