The Charm School

here.”
    “Everything’s a violation here. No freedom of anything. Will your replacement be moving into your unit?”
    “I don’t think I’m getting a replacement. No use sending someone here if they have to start shipping people—”
    “Let’s go,” Hollis interrupted. “Good-bye, Mrs. Kellum. See you before I leave.”
    “I hope so, Colonel.”
    “I’ll make a point of it.”
    He took Lisa’s arm, and they went down to the foyer, where Hollis got his trench coat and a black felt fedora.
    “You look like a spy in that getup.”
    “No, that blue topcoat and porkpie hat is my spy outfit.”
    They walked outside into the thin sunshine. There was a damp chill in the air, but it was above freezing, and the snow of a few nights before lay in patches on the quad. They left through the rear pedestrian gate beside the Marine barracks, and Hollis said, “Where do you want to go?”
    “Nowhere in particular. We’ll just be tourists. We’ll walk up Gorky Street, hand in hand, and stop in a funny little cafe for cappuccino and pastry.”
    “There are no cafes with cappuccino on Gorky or any other street.”
    “Pretend.”
    “All right.” They walked through the streets of the old Presnya district, past a sculpture of a barricade fighter and then another sculpture entitled “The Cobblestone—Weapon of the Proletariat.” Nearby was an obelisk erected to the Heroes of the 1905 Insurrection. Hollis said, “This is romantic. Can we kiss in Insurrection Square?”
    “Oh, stop griping. Romance is in the heart, not in stone or marble, even on the Via Veneto.”
    “Well said.”
    “Anyway, I’ve developed a perverse fondness for this city and its people.”
    “Some of its perverse people have been following us. You know what ‘embassy watchers’ are, of course.”
    “Yes. Are they following us?” She glanced around.
    “Yes.”
    “Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever been followed.”
    “Well, they follow everyone once in a while. But with military attachés, they stick like glue all the time. We’re going to lose them. It’s fairly simple to do on the metro. Just stay with me. Here’s some five-kopek pieces.”
    They walked up Rampart Street and entered the 1905 Street Metro, taking the first train to come along. Sitting in a half-empty car, Hollis said, “We’ll have to make a few random transfers until I’m sure we’ve lost them.”
    “Okay. But who cares if they follow us? We’re not doing anything.”
    “It’s the principle. Also, they may still have a room waiting for us at Lefortovo.”
    “Oh.”
    They rode the metro toward the city center and made several last-minute transfers at the more crowded stations, then took the Prospect Mira line to the northern reaches of the city. Hollis settled in his seat and said, “We lost them back at Revolution Square.”
    She sat beside him in the nearly empty car. “How do you know?”
    “I saw them looking upset on the platform as our train pulled away.”
    “You knew what they looked like?”
    “I hope so.”
    “This is neat.
This
is romantic. Running from the KGB.” She looked at her watch. “It’s nearly one. I’m starving. Whose turn to buy?”
    “I think you forgot to pay at Lefortovo. So it’s your turn.”
    “Right.” She took his hand. “You know, Sam, my boss, Kay Hoffman, says I shouldn’t get involved with a married man.”
    “Really? Does she write an advice column on the side?”
    “Be serious. She’s an experienced woman—”
    “So I’ve heard.”
    “And she’s sort of my mentor. She said that married men either go back to their wives, or they consider you a transitional woman.”
    “Here’s Cosmos Station. The next stop is the woods. We better get off here.”
    They came out of the metro pavilion and looked around. To their left was the soaring space obelisk, a three-hundred-foot curved shaft of polished titanium that represented the blast and plume of a rocket, atop which was the huge rocket itself.
    Lisa observed, “It’s so
phallic
… look at that curve… that thrusting power… that rocket—”
    Hollis smiled. “Calm down.”
    She laughed. “Sorry, lost my head.” She surveyed the vast open spaces around her. “I’ve been up here once. It’s all so
Soviet
here, almost nothing of old Russia.”
    Hollis nodded. Beyond the space obelisk was the Cosmos Cinema and beyond that the Moscow TV tower, a rocket-shaped structure nearly 1,500 feet high, which held a revolving restaurant with the