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Freedom

Page 4

by Arthur B. Reeve

Prague.

  She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, a graduate of the University ofMoscow, and although she'd been in the Czech capital only a matter of sixmonths or so, had already adapted to the more fashionable dress that thestyle-conscious women of this former Western capital went in for. Besidesthat, Catherina Panova managed to be one of the downright prettiest girlsIlya Simonov had ever seen.

  His career had largely kept him from serious involvement in the past.Certainly the dedicated women you usually found in Party ranks seldom wereof the type that inspired you to romance but he wondered now, looking atthis new assistant of his, if he hadn't let too much of his youth go bywithout more investigation into the usually favorite pastime of youth.

  He wondered also, but only briefly, if he should reveal his actualidentity to her. She was, after all, a party member. But then he checkedhimself. Kliment Blagonravov had stressed the necessity of completesecrecy. Not even the local offices of the ministry were to be acquaintedwith his presence.

  He let Catherina introduce him around, familiarize him with the localmethods of going about their business affairs and the problems they wererunning into.

  She ran a hand back over her forehead, placing a wisp of errant hair, andsaid, "I suppose, as an expert from Moscow, you'll be installing a wholeset of new methods."

  It was far from his intention to spend much time at office work. He said,"Not at all. There is no hurry. For a time, we'll continues your presentpolicies, just to get the feel of the situation. Then perhaps in a fewmonths, we'll come up with some ideas."

  She obviously liked his use of "we" rather than "I." Evidently, the staffhad been a bit nervous upon his appointment as new manager. He alreadyfelt, vaguely, that the three Russians here had no desire to return totheir homeland. Evidently, there was something about Czechoslovakia thatappealed to them all. The fact irritated him but somehow didn't surprise.

  Catherina said, "As a matter of fact, I have some opinions on possiblechanges myself. Perhaps if you'll have dinner with me tonight, we candiscuss them informally."

  Ilya Simonov was only mildly surprised at her suggesting a rendezvous withhim. Party members were expected to ignore sex and be on an equal footing.She was as free to suggest a dinner date to him, as he was to her. Ofcourse, she wasn't speaking as a Party member now. In fact, he hadn't evenrevealed to her his own membership.

  As it worked out, they never got around to discussing distribution of thenew Moskvich aircushion jet car. They became far too busy enjoying food,drink, dancing--and each other.

  They ate at the Budapest, in the Prava Hotel, complete with Hungariandishes and Riesling, and they danced to the inevitable gypsy music. Itoccurred to Ilya Simonov that there was a certain pleasure to be derivedfrom the fact that your feminine companion was the most beautiful woman inthe establishment and one of the most attractively dressed. There was acertain lift to be enjoyed when you realized that the eyes of half theother males present were following you in envy.

  One thing led to another. He insisted on introducing her to barack, theHungarian national spirit, in the way of a digestive. The apricot brandy,distilled to the point of losing all sweetness and fruit flavor, requiredlearning. It must be tossed back just so. By the time Catherina had theknack, neither of them were feeling strain. In fact, it became obviouslynecessary for him to be given a guided tour of Prague's night spots.

  It turned out that Prague offered considerably more than Moscow, whicheven with the new relaxation was still one of the most staid cities in theSoviet Complex.

  They took in the vaudeville at the Alhambra, and the variety at thePrazske Variete.

  They took in the show at the U Sv Tomise, the age old tavern which hadbeen making its own smoked black beer since the fifteenth century. Andhere Catherina with the assistance of revelers from neighboring tablestaught him the correct pronunciation of _Na zdravi!_ the Czech toast. Itseemed required to go from heavy planked table to table practicing the newsalutation to the accompaniment of the pungent borovika gin.

  Somewhere in here they saw the Joseph Skupa puppets, and at this stage,Ilya Simonov found only great amusement at the political innuendoesinvolved in half the skits. It would never had one in Moscow orLeningrad, of course, but here it was very amusing indeed. There was evena caricature of a security police minister who could only have been hissuperior Kliment Blagonravov.

  They wound up finally at the U Kalicha, made famous by Hasek in "The GoodSoldier Schweik." In fact various illustrations from the original classicwere framed on the walls.

  They had been laughing over their early morning snack, now Ilya Simonovlooked at her approvingly. "See here," he said. "We must do this again."

  "Fine," she laughed.

  "In fact, tomorrow," he insisted. He looked at his watch. "I meantonight."

  She laughed at him. "Our great expert from Moscow. Far from improving ouroperations, there'll be less accomplished than ever if you make a nightlypractice of carrying on like we did this evening."

  He laughed too. "But tonight," he said insistently.

  She shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm already booked up for this evening."

  He scowled for the first time in hours. He'd seemingly forgotten that hehardly knew this girl. What her personal life was, he had no idea. Forthat matter, she might be engaged or even married. The very idea irritatedhim.

  He said stiffly, "Ah, you have a date?"

  Catherina laughed again. "My, what a dark face. If I didn't know you to bean automobile distributor expert, I would suspect you of being a securitypolice agent." She shook her head. "Not a date. If by that you meananother man. There is a meeting that I would like to attend."

  "A meeting! It sounds dry as--"

  She was shaking her head. "Oh, no. A group I belong to. Very interesting.We're to be addressed by an American journalist."

  Suddenly he was all but sober.

  He tried to smooth over the short space of silence his surprise hadprecipitated. "An American journalist? Under government auspices?"

  "Hardly." She smiled at him over her glass of Pilsen. "I forget," shesaid. "If you're from Moscow, you probably aren't aware of how open thingsare here in Prague. A whiff of fresh air."

  "I don't understand. Is this group of yours, ah, illegal?"

  She shrugged impatiently. "Oh, of course not. Don't be silly. We gather tohear various speakers, to discuss world affairs. That sort of thing. Oh,of course, _theoretically_ it's illegal, but for that matter even the headof the Skoda plant attended last week. It's only for the more advancedintellectuals, of course. Very advanced. But, for that matter, I know adozen or so Party members, both Czech and Russian, who attend."

  "But an American journalist? What's he doing in the country? Is heaccredited?"

  "No, no. You misunderstand. He entered as a tourist, came across somePrague newspapermen and as an upshot he's to give a talk on freedom of thepress."

  "I see," Simonov said.

  She was impatient with him. "You don't understand at all. See here, whydon't you come along tonight? I'm sure I can get you in."

  "It sounds like a good idea," Ilya Simonov said. He was completely sobernow.

  * * * * *

  He made a written report to Kliment Blagonravov before turning in. Hementioned the rather free discussion of matters political in the Czechcapital, using the man he'd met in the beer hall as an example. Hereported--although, undoubtedly, Blagonravov would already have theinformation--hearing of a Polish Tri-D film which had defended the OldBolsheviks purged in the 1930s. He mentioned the literary magazine, withits caricature of Frol Zverev, and, last of all, and then afterhesitation, he reported party member Catherina Panova, who evidentlybelonged to a group of intellectuals who were not above listening to atalk given by a foreign journalist who was not speaking under the auspicesof the Czech Party nor the government.

  At the office, later, Catherina grinned at him and made a face. She tickedit off on her fingers. "Riesling, barack, smoked black beer, and
borovikagin--we should have know better."

  He went along with her, putting one hand to his forehead. "We should havestuck to vodka."

  "Well," she said, "tonight we can be virtuous. An intellectual evening,rather than a carouse."

  Actually, she didn't look at all the worse for wear. Evidently, CatherinaPanova was still young enough that she could pub crawl all night, andstill look fresh and alert in the morning. His own mouth felt lined withimproperly tanned suede.

  He was quickly fitting into the routine of the office. Actually, it workedsmoothly enough that little effort was demanded of him. The Czechemployees handled almost all the details. Evidently, the word of hisevening on the town had somehow spread,

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