Isaac Asimov - Fantastic Voyage II - Destination Brain

"I hate that woman," muttered Kaffinin as they walked up the flight of stairs to Morrison's second-floor room.

"Do you think that she is an observer of this place on behalf of the Central Coordinating Committee?" asked Morrison.

"Who knows? But there is something wrong with her. She is possessed by a devil of impudence. She does not know her place."

"Her place? Are there class distinctions, then, in the Soviet Union?"

"Don't be sarcastic, Albert. There are supposedly none in the United States, either, but you have them surely. And so do we. I know what the theory is, but no person can live by theory alone. If Arkady's father didn't say that, he should have."

They walked up one flight of stairs to what had been Morrison's room earlier in the week and apparently still was. Morrison viewed it with mild distaste. It was a room without charm, though the sunlight made it seem less gloomy than he remembered it to be and, of course, the prospect of returning home was enough to add glitter to anything.

Kaliinin sat in the better of the two armchairs in the room, her legs crossed, the upper leg swinging in short arcs. Morrison sat down on the side of the bed and watched her legs thoughtfully. He had never had good occasion to admire his own calmness under pressure and it seemed to him rather unusual to watch someone be more nervous than he himself was.

He said, "You seem greatly troubled, Sophia. What is wrong?"

She said, "I told you. That woman Paleron troubles me."

"She can't upset you that much. What's wrong?"

"I don't like waiting. The days are long now. It will be nine hours until sunset."

"It's amazing that it's only a matter of hours. The diplomatic maneuvering could have continued for months." He said so lightly enough, but the thought gave him a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Not in a case like this. I've seen it work before, Albert. The Swedes are involved. It's not an American plane that's coming. Having an American plane land deep in Soviet territory is still something our government shies away from. But the Swedes - Well, they serve as an intermediary between the two nations by common consent and they tend to work hard to defuse any possibility of friction."

"In the United States, we consider Sweden lukewarm toward us at the best. I think we'd prefer to have Great Britain -"

"Oh come, you might as well say Texas. As it is, Sweden may be lukewarm toward you, but she is considerably less than that toward us. In any case, it's Sweden and their principle always is that if it is necessary to defuse a situation, it is best to defuse it swiftly."

"It seems quite swift to me. Certainly, I'm the one who should be in the greater hurry, since it is I who am most anxious to leave. Why should a few hours matter to you?"

"I've told you. He is after us." She ground out the pronoun.

"Yuri? What can he do? If your government is giving me up -"

"There are elements in the government who might easily not wish to give you up and our - friend - knows some of these well."

Morrison raised a finger to his lips and looked around.

Kaliinin said, "Are you worried about being bugged? That's another American spy novel myth. Bugs are so easily detected these days and so easily scrambled - I carry a small detector myself and I've never spotted one."

Morrison shrugged. "Then say what you wish."

"Our friend is not a political extremist himself, but he finds he can use those in high office who are. There are extremists in America, too, I suppose. "

"Those who think our policy toward the Soviet Union is too mild?" Morrison nodded. "I've met a few."

"Well, then, there you are. His ambition consumes him and if extremism will advance his plans, then he is prepared to be an extremist."

"Surely you don't think he can arrange some sort of coup in Moscow and put the diehards in control and do it all in time to stop me from leaving for home this evening?"

"You've got it the wrong way around, Albert. If he could somehow prevent you from leaving and precipitate a crisis, he may be able to persuade some in the government to stand firm and delay your leaving for a long time. He can be very persuasive, our friend, when he is in the full grip of his mania. He can sway even Natalya."

Kaliinin fell into a silence and bit at her lower lip. Finally she looked up and said, "He hasn't given up on you and he won't. I'm sure of it. I've got to get you away."

She rose suddenly and paced up and down the room with short, quick steps, looking as though she were trying to force the Universe into turning her way. She stopped in front of the door, listened, then jerked it open suddenly.

Valeri Paleron, her bland expression shifting rapidly into surprise, had one fist raised, as though she were about to knock.

"What do you want?" said Kaliinin tightly.

"I?" said the waitress. "I want nothing. It is a question of whether you do. I have come to ask if you would like some tea."

"We have not asked for any."

"I did not say you have. I come out of courtesy."

"Then go out of courtesy. And do not return."

Paleron, reddening, looked from Kaliinin to Morrison and said between her teeth, "Perhaps I interrupt a tender moment."

"Leave!" said Kaliinin. She closed the door, waited long enough to count to ten in a deliberate manner (her lips moving soundlessly), and then flung it open again. No one was there.

She closed the door and locked it, walked to the opposite end of the room, and said in a low voice, "She had been out there, probably, for quite some time. I heard feet shuffling."

Morrison said, "If high-tech bugging is pass‚, then I suppose there is a premium on old-fashion eavesdropping."

"Ah, but for whom?"

"Do you suppose she does it for Yuri? It doesn't seem likely that he would have the money to hire spies - or does he?"

"It might not take much money. A woman like that might do it for pleasure."

There was silence for a moment and then Morrison said, "If it's possible that you're beset by spies, Sophia, why not come to America with me?"

"What?" She seemed not to have heard him.

"You might be in trouble for getting me out, you know."

"Why? I have official papers that will place you on the plane. I am under orders."

"That might not save you if a scapegoat is needed. Why not just get on the plane with me, Sophia, and come to America?"

"Just like that? What would happen to my child?"

"We'll send for her afterward."

"We'll send for her? What are you suggesting?"

Morrison flushed slightly. "I'm not sure. We can be friends, certainly. You'll need friends in a new country."

"But it can't happen, Albert. I appreciate your kindness and concern - or pity - but it can't happen."

"Yes, it can. This is the twenty-first century, not the twentieth, Sophia. People may move about freely anywhere in the world."

"Dear Albert," said Kaliinin, "you do tend to live in theory. Yes, people can move about, but every nation has its exceptions. The Soviet Union will not allow a highly trained scientist with experience in miniaturization-related fields to leave the country. Think about it and you'll see that that's reasonable. If I do accompany you, there will be an immediate Soviet protest, a sure claim that I have been kidnapped, and there will be a loud howl from all corners of the world that I be sent back in order to avoid a crisis. Sweden will act as quickly for me as she has for you."

"But in my case, I was kidnapped."

"There'll be many who will believe I was - or who might prefer to believe it - and I will be sent back by the United States, as you are being sent back by the Soviet Union. We've papered over, in this fashion, dozens of crises over the last six decades or so - and isn't that better than war?"