"I doubt that we really got what we were after."
"You mean Shapirov's thoughts? That was, of course, Yuri's dream. On the whole, it was fortunate that he talked us all into following that dream. We would never have attempted the voyage otherwise. Nor does the failure of the dream dim our feat. Had we failed to return alive, we can be sure that there would have been much criticism of our folly in attempting the matter. As it is, though, we are the first to have entered a living human body and to have returned alive - a Soviet first that will stand forever in history. There will be no non-Soviet feat of the sort for years and our Soviet leadership is well-aware of that and very satisfied. We are assured of the money we will need for a considerable time, I imagine, provided we can come up with a spectacular feat now and then."
She smiled broadly at this and Morrison nodded and smiled politely with her. He cut away at the ham omelet he had requested and said, "Would it have been diplomatic to emphasize that an American was one of the crew? Was I mentioned at all?"
"Come, Albert, don't think so ill of us. Your feat in turning the ship by hand at the risk of your life was mentioned with emphasis."
"And Shapirov's death? That will not be blamed on us, I hope?"
"The death is understood to have been unavoidable. It is well-known that he was kept alive as long as he was by advanced medical methods only. I doubt that it will be mentioned to any great extent in the records."
"In any case," said Morrison, "the nightmare is over."
"The nightmare? Come, give yourself a month or two and it will seem an exciting episode that you'll be glad you experienced."
"I doubt it."
"You'll see. If you live to witness other such voyages, you'll be delighted to say, 'Ah, but I was on the very first,' and you'll never tire of telling the story to your grandchildren."
That's the opening, thought Morrison. Aloud, he said, "I see you assume that I will see my grandchildren someday. What happens to me once we're finished with breakfast, Natalya?"
"It will be out of the Grotto for you and back to the hotel."
"No no, Natalya. I want more than that. What follows that? I warn you that if the miniaturization project is going to go public and if there's a parade in Red Square, I don't intend to be part of it."
"Parades are out of the question, Albert. We're a long way from going public, although we're closer to it by far than we were the day before yesterday. "
"Let me put it baldly then. I want to go back to the United States. Now."
"As soon as possible, certainly. I imagine there will be pressure from your government."
"I should hope so," said Morrison dryly.
"They would not have been willing to have you back before you had a chance to help us or" - her eyes looked into his rather sternly - "from their point of view, spied on us. But now that you have done your part - and I'm sure they will be aware of that somehow - they will demand you back."
"And you must send me back. You promised that over and over."
"We will keep our promise."
"Nor need you think I have spied on you, I have seen nothing you have not let me see."
"I know that. Yet, when you return to your own country, do you imagine that you will not be questioned exhaustively on what you have seen?"
Morrison shrugged. "That was the consequence you must have accepted when you brought me here."
"True and we won't let it keep us from returning you. It is quite certain you won't be able to tell your people anything they don't already know. They poke their noses into our affairs carefully and skillfully -"
"As your people poke their noses into ours -" said Morrison with some indignation.
"Undoubtedly," said Boranova with a negligent wave of her hand. "Of course, you will be able to tell them of our success, but we don't really object to their knowing. To this day, Americans insist on believing that Soviet science and technology is second-class. It will do us good to teach them a lesson in this. One thing, though -"
"Ah," said Morrison.
"Not a large thing, but a lie. You must not say we brought you here by force. In any public mention of this matter, you must state - if the question arises - that you came here voluntarily, in order to test your theories under conditions not available to you elsewhere in the world. It is a totally likely thing. Who would disbelieve you?"
"My government knows otherwise."
"Yes, but they will themselves urge you to tell the lie. They are as little eager as we are to plunge the world into a crisis over this. Aside from the fact that crises between the United States and the Soviet Union would instantly antagonize the rest of the world against both of us in these so-called good new days, the United States will no more wish to admit they had let you be taken than we would to admit we had taken you. Come, Albert, it is a small thing."
Morrison sighed. "If you return me now, as you say you will do, I will keep quiet about this small matter of kidnapping."
"You use the conditional. You say 'if.'" Boranova was grim. "You clearly find it troublesome to believe me to be a person of honor. Why? Because I am a Soviet. Two generations of peace, two generations of getting along, and your old habits persist. Is there to be no hope for humanity?"
"Good new days or not, we still don't like your system of government."
"Who gives you the right to judge us? We don't like yours, either. - But never mind. If we begin to quarrel, that will spoil what should be a happy day for you - and what is a happy day for me."
"Very well. We will not quarrel."
"Then let us say good-bye now, Albert, and someday we will meet again under more normal circumstances I am sure." She held out her hand to him and he took it. She went on, "I have asked Sophia to escort you back to the hotel and to make the arrangements for your leaving. You will not object to that, I'm sure."
Morrison pressed her hand strongly. "No. I rather like Sophia."
Boranova smiled. "I had sensed that somehow."
It was a happy day for Boranova and her exhaustion did not prevent her from enjoying it.
Exhaustion! How many days of rest, how many nights of sleep, how long a stretch at home with Nikolai and Aleksandr would it take to cure that?
But she was alone now and for a period of time there would be nothing to do. Seize the moment!
Boranova stretched out luxuriously on the couch in her office and gave herself over to a curious jumble of thought - now a commendation from Moscow, with a promotion, all mixed up with days on the beach at Crimea with her husband and son. It became almost real as she slept and dreamed that she was pursuing little Aleksandr as he marched firmly into the cold waters of the Black Sea in heedless lack of concern over the possibility of drowning himself. She was carrying a drum that she was beating wildly in order to attract the attention he stubbornly refused to give her.
And the vision broke apart and faded and the drumbeat was a hammering at the door.
She rose with a confused effort, smoothed the blouse she was wearing, and strode to the door in hasty concern. This turned to fury when she threw it open and found Konev frowning darkly, his fist raised to renew his assault.
"What is this, Yuri?" she said indignantly. "Is this your way of announcing yourself? There are signals."
"Which no one answered, though I knew you to be within."
Boranova motioned him in with a quick gesture of her head. She was not anxious to see him and he was not a pleasant sight.
She said, "Haven't you slept at all? You look awful."
"I haven't had time. I've been working."
"At what?"