The Charm School

those that he’d seen were good-looking, and many had the fair complexions of the Nordic Russians, giving them a sort of all-American look when the props and costumes were added.
    Burov thanked the four men and motioned to the door, but Hollis said to the four, “Who knows who won the Battle of Borodino?”
    Larson replied, “I’m not much on history, but I think Napoleon just squeaked by on that one. Right, guys?”
    They all nodded.
    Hollis said to Burov, “You must reread
your
history, Colonel.”
    Burov didn’t reply, but escorted Hollis and Lisa outside. They continued their walk. Hollis saw that the buildings in the camp were spread out, and there were times when it seemed they were in an uninhabited woods, but then a building appeared, or men could be seen walking. Hollis spotted three men in overcoats walking toward them on the wood-planked path. Burov said, “Instructors.” Hollis watched them walking and talking, almost, he thought, as if they really were three dons, at some sylvan retreat, discussing tenure or Chaucer. They met on the path, and Burov made the introductions. “Commander Poole, Captain Schuyler, Lieutenant Colonel Mead, may I introduce Colonel Hollis, United States Air Force, former American embassy air attaché, and Miss Lisa Rhodes, United States Information Service, also late of the American embassy.”
    The five Americans looked at one another. Colonel Mead broke the silence. “How the hell did you get here?”
    Hollis replied, “Kidnapped.”
    Mead said to Burov, “Christ, you people fucked up this time.”
    Burov smiled thinly. “If you followed the newspapers more closely as you’re supposed to do, gentlemen, you would have read of the deaths of Colonel Hollis and Ms. Rhodes in a helicopter accident.”
    Commander Poole nodded. “That’s right. You’re the air attaché.”
    “I was.”
    Captain Schuyler said, “Then you’re both real? I was thinking you might be two of Colonel Burov’s flying worms from a much earlier class.”
    “No,” Hollis replied. “We’re real.”
    Lieutenant Colonel Mead still seemed skeptical. “I did read about you, but are you
you?
”
    Burov replied, “You’ll be getting last week’s news magazines tomorrow, with pictures. And last week’s videotapes of network news programs also.”
    Schuyler nodded gravely. “Well, sorry to see you here.”
    “We’re sorry to be here,” Hollis replied. He could sense that they had a lot of questions for him, the question of Dodson being one, but this was not the time to address them. Hollis said, “We’ll talk soon.”
    They nodded.
    Burov made a hasty parting and led Lisa and Hollis on. He said, “As you can see, most of the houses here are American. Also, in another underground area, we have several training environments—American kitchen, several business and professional offices, rooms filled with American gadgets and such. I’ll show you that another day. But mostly we concentrate on the nuances of language and culture: facial expressions, clothing, interpersonal relationships, and that sort of thing. The day-to-day things such as supermarkets and gas stations can easily be assimilated in the States.”
    Hollis remarked, “Like how to smoke a cigarette.”
    Burov walked in silence awhile, then replied, “Little mistakes can be fatal.” He went on. “One of our biggest problems turns out to be facial expressions. How unique faces are, and how odd that different cultures do different things with their faces for different reasons.”
    Lisa commented, “Muscovites always have an expression of quiet desperation, except when they’re drunk, and then they look melancholy. They never smile except at their children.”
    “Is that so?” Burov said, “You know, I never noticed that. But that’s the point. You did. And the other major difficulty is the English language. The number of words alone is overwhelming. You have close to half a million words. We have less than a hundred thousand. English is a rich language, to be sure. I’d envy you your language but for the spelling and the grammar.”
    Burov continued his talk as they walked along the wooden paths through the woods. He said, “I just remembered a story about one of our graduates who recently arrived in America and had a bad experience in a supermarket with a can crusher. It seems he put a full can of cola into the machine, though I have no idea why.” He smiled at the thought, then added, “I suppose it’s like