The Charm School

way across the dance floor and found the bar, where he fell into conversation with four NATO attachés.
    The band suddenly stopped, and James Martindale announced the ambassador and his wife. Hollis noticed that the party calmed down a bit. Hollis excused himself and walked toward the ambassador, meeting Lisa heading the same way. She said to him, “Is it all right if we present ourselves to the ambassador together?”
    “It’s all right with me. Listen, I’d like to spend part of my home leave with you.”
    “I’ll think about that.”
    “What is there to think—”
    The ambassador and his wife approached and greeted Hollis and Lisa. They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and everyone smiled. Neither the ambassador nor his wife commented on the sashes or the pear and alarm clock, which struck Hollis as the height of savoir faire if not stupidity. Lisa said, “You both missed some very funny speeches.”
    “Oh,” the ambassador’s wife said, “we’re so sorry we were detained.”
    They chatted a moment longer, then the ambassador said, “I’m deeply appreciative to both of you for your contributions to the diplomatic mission here. Charles tells me he’s spoken to you on certain matters of national importance and that you both understand the reasoning and so forth. I’m very happy that you do. Colonel Hollis, Ms. Rhodes—Sam and Lisa—have a pleasant and safe journey home.” Everyone shook hands.
    The ambassador’s wife said, “Please excuse us, we have another engagement that we accepted before this was arranged.”
    Lisa watched them go and commented, “They could send programmed androids for that job, and no one would notice.”
    “What is there to think about?”
    “Nothing. That’s the point. It would take ten minutes to program the ’droids.”
    “What is there to think about spending some time with me?”
    “Oh, that. I have to think about… well… my parents… you’re a little older than I, and you’re married.”
    “Did you just discover that?”
    She smiled wanly. “Let me think about how to make it right.”
    “Do that.”
    “Are we having our first fight?”
    “Quite possibly.” Hollis turned and walked toward his staff, who were standing together talking.
    Hollis was intercepted by Mike Salerno, a reporter for the Pacific News Service. Salerno took Hollis aside. “Funny speech, Colonel. Everyone is in a rare mood tonight. You guys should do that once a month. Catharsis. When one of us leaves, we get together at somebody’s place, and we do the same kind of thing.”
    “No wonder the KGB harasses you.”
    “Yeah… I guess they listen in, don’t they?”
    “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” Hollis had met Salerno on a few occasions and found him somewhat pushy but straightforward and down to earth.
    Salerno went on, “You know that we’ve kicked out your counterpart in D.C. and also some Soviet Tass dork in retaliation for Lisa. The Reds are probably having a similar party in Washington tonight. Doing Uncle Sam skits.” He laughed, then finished his drink and said, “What’s the actual reason behind you guys leaving?”
    “Pretty much what the official version is, Mike. We took an unauthorized trip.”
    “Yeah. But they usually give you a break the first time for something petty like that. Especially with the sweet smell of détente in the air.”
    “It was actually the second time for both of us.” To forestall further questions, Hollis added, “As you may have deduced, we went to see the site of the famous Russian nonvictory at Borodino. Moscow gets claustrophobic.”
    “Hey, don’t I know it? It takes me a month to get permission to visit some godforsaken tractor factory in the Urals.”
    “Tell them you don’t want to see a tractor factory in the Urals. You’ll be on the next train.”
    Salerno laughed. “You got that right, Br’er Bear.” He took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Hollis, saying, “To a safe trip.”
    Salerno finished the wine, seemed to consider a moment, then asked, “Are you leveling with me, Sam?”
    “Yes.”
    “You went out that way to take charge of the body of Greg Fisher.”
    “Right.”
    “And you detoured a few K’s to Borodino and were spotted.”
    “Correct.”
    “Hell of a fucked-up country, isn’t it?”
    Hollis replied, “When in the third Rome, do as they tell you. Excuse me.”
    “Hold on a second, Sam. Look, I know there’s more to this Greg