Immediately after the 29th Congress of the CPSU, Yanayev paid a visit to the Moscow Institute of Computer Science, signaling strong central government support for the burgeoning field of information technology.
In the summer of 1990, the Soviet computer network went online, with its core at the Kurchatov Nuclear Power Research Institute in Moscow. On August 28, 1990, Soviet computers were linked to the University of Helsinki in Finland. By September 19, the Soviet Computer Program Control Cooperative had registered the Soviet Union's top-level domain name. By year's end, the network connected over thirty organizations and was integrated with the European LAN.
Even earlier, in 1989, the MC1504 personal portable computer — a precursor to the modern notebook — had appeared. Though the Soviet Union's computer development was constrained by its own limitations, it was far from backward. What Yanayev aimed to do was narrow the existing gap gradually through policy and financial support, hoping to reach parity in due time. But Yanayev was not a computer scientist; he could not wave a magic wand to produce a stunning WINS95 operating system. Instead, he sought to set the right direction and help researchers avoid costly detours.
Tarokoff, director of the Moscow Institute of Electronic Computers, was thrilled by Yanayev's visit. Perhaps even he had not expected such keen interest from the General Secretary. After hearing Yanayev's speech at the 29th Congress, he dared to hope a new spring of innovation was on the horizon.
But when Tarokoff began a detailed introduction, Yanayev interrupted with a simple question: "When will our computers be available to the general public? When will they enter most homes?"
Tarokoff answered, "At the current pace, it will take five or six years. As technology matures, costs will fall. Soon, our network systems will connect computers across the country — and beyond."
"Already," Tarokoff added, "personal computers like the MC1504 and Agate-4 have started entering homes. I believe it won't be long before the vast majority enjoy the benefits of personal computing."
Yanayev nodded thoughtfully but was curious about something else. "Can you develop games?"
Tarokoff was taken aback. He had expected questions about processors or chips, not games.
"Yes, we have some entertainment games: 'Rabbit Run,' 'Secrets of the Sea,' 'Happy Chef,' and 'Aerial Shooting Range.' Mostly simple children's games."
Yanayev frowned slightly. "I mean larger games. For example, a big strategic game where players create armored vehicles and aircraft to attack virtual enemy buildings — with similar enemy units defending. That kind of game."
Tarokoff shook his head regretfully. "Our current systems lack the computational power and complexity for that. It requires advanced logic operations beyond our present capabilities."
Yanayev nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Comrade Tarokoff. The level of a country's computer development can be glimpsed through something small like games. Many may dismiss games, but they will become a sunrise industry in computing."
He paused, recalling that some socialist allies still condemned such entertainment as "electronic spiritual opium." He hoped personal biases wouldn't hinder progress. If the Soviets ever made a game as awful as 'Stalin vs. Martians,' Yanayev joked he might send the developers to Stalin's company—angrily.
"Please don't take my musings too seriously," he added with a chuckle.
As they walked through the lab, Yanayev assured Tarokoff, "The central government will strongly support high-tech industries, especially electronic computing. Funding will no longer be a worry. You'll have the best conditions."
Tarokoff's eyes shone. "We won't disappoint the General Secretary's expectations."
"You will be free to research without fear," Yanayev continued. "No more tragedies like the ternary computer project. It was shelved due to politics, a great loss. Had it continued, it might have created a new computing paradigm beyond binary."
Reducing administrative interference in research was key to his vision for a flourishing computer industry.
Tarokoff grinned mischievously. "By the way, has the strategic game you mentioned been named yet?"
Yanayev pondered briefly. "I'm thinking… 'Red Alert: The Rise of the Soviets.'"