“The treasury,” he says, “is communal. A general treasury, created by common effort. Acronym— GT.”
Having lost Vasia and myself, Chapai is desperately hanging onto his last conversational partner—Dogg.
“A workers’ treasury,” says Chapai. “No banks. Banks are a useless waste.”
“A fiction,” suggests Dogg.
“Exactly.”
They remain silent for a moment, I fall asleep again, then Chapai says:
“In principle,” he says. “There’s a treasury here too.”
Dogg looks around the room in total confusion.
“At the plant,” explains Chapai. “Our director keeps it in the party committee building. The former party committee,” he adds.
“So?” Dogg’s ears prick up. I wake up too.
“In principle,” says Chapai, “today is a holiday, the guards are only at the front gate. They walk around the territory twice eve
