The Charm School

know. And ironically, it is only since I have had to deal with hundreds of Americans that I’ve grown to hate them, hate their culture, their filthy books and magazines, their shallow movies, their selfish personalities, their total lack of any sense of history or suffering, their rampant consumption of useless goods and services, and above all, their plain dumb luck in avoiding disaster.”
    Hollis smiled. “That about covers it.” He asked, “But certainly you didn’t learn all that from your prisoners?”
    “Instructors
. No, I learned from the Western filth I’ve been exposed to. The irony of these fliers is that they’re probably the best you’ve got to offer in your childish society. And your government and nation wasted them like it wastes every resource you have. As I suggested to you in Lefortovo restaurant, you might agree with that.”
    “I might, but I won’t. I’ve already worked all that out, Burov. I don’t feel betrayed or used. So if this is the standard psychological pitch to get me mad at America, forget it.”
    Burov leaned back in the sofa and crossed his legs. “All right. But
think
about it. I’ll tell you something else that is ironic and that amuses me. My students, when they get to America, will make better, harder working, more knowledgeable, and more law-abiding citizens than you’re able to produce yourselves over there.”
    “And they’ll probably pay their taxes too.”
    Burov regarded Hollis for some seconds, then said, “And my second motivation is purely intellectual. Quite simply, I am fascinated with the challenge of turning Russians into Americans. I don’t believe anything quite like this has ever been done on such a scale. And it has other ramifications for the future. Do you follow?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Yes. There are other schools in the planning.”
    “And where will you get the instructors?”
    “Kidnap them as we kidnapped you and the American women here. But on a larger scale. I think we will use submarines to capture entire boatloads of pleasure sailors.” He smiled. “Perhaps in the Bermuda Triangle.”
    Lisa said, “How can that make you smile? That’s so cruel.”
    Burov replied, “It’s war. We know that. You don’t.” He turned his attention back to Hollis. “Within ten years we will have a school for every major Caucasian nation in the world. All of Europe, South America, Canada, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand—any place where an ethnic Russian can pass for a native—we will have Russians burrowing into the very fabric of those nations. By the end of the century we will cover the globe with men and women who look and act like Germans, Frenchmen, Englishmen, or whatever, but who work for Moscow.” Burov asked Hollis, “What do you think of that?”
    “That’s very ambitious for a country that has had seventy years to create the New Soviet Man and can’t.”
    Burov leaned toward Hollis. “You’re entirely too glib.”
    “I know. Gets me in trouble.”
    Burov nodded. “So that’s what makes me tick.”
    “Good. Can we leave now?”
    “No. There are some other matters.”
    An elderly Russian woman entered the room carrying a tray on which was a teapot and cups. She set the tray down on the stove, stared at Lisa and Hollis, then left.
    Burov said, “Help yourselves.”
    Lisa replied, “If that woman is a prisoner, I won’t touch a thing that has been served by your slave.” Burov made a clucking sound with his tongue. “What scruples you have. That was actually my dear mother.” Burov stood and poured three cups of tea. “Yes, I have a mother. And a wife and my little darling, Natalia.” He handed Lisa a cup, which she accepted, then he gave one to Hollis and remained standing by the stove. He stared at Lisa awhile, then asked her, “I was wondering if you would like to work here. In this house. To teach my Natalia English. She is ten now. Perhaps you could be a sort of governess.”
    “Colonel Burov, you must be joking.”
    “I wasn’t. Do you want to meet Natalia?”
    “No.”
    “Do you find us all so repulsive?”
    “I have many Russian friends. You are not among them.”
    Burov shrugged. “We’ll see. Time heals many hurts.”
    Hollis put his cup on the floor beside his chair. “Is that the only reason you asked us here?”
    “No. Unfortunately something has come up. My superiors in Moscow did not agree with my decision to extend you a week to meditate. So I must have your decision now. I