THE COOL WAR by ANDREW FETLER Illustrated by NODEL [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Here's what happens when two Master Spies tangle ... and stay that way! "Nothing, nothing to get upset about," Pashkov said soothingly, taking his friend's arm as they came out of the villa forty miles from Moscow. Pashkov looked like a roly-poly zoo attendant leading a tame bear. "Erase his memory, give him a new name and feed him more patriotism. Very simple." Medvedev raised his hand threateningly. "Don't come howling to me if everybody guesses he is nothing but a robot." Pashkov glanced back at the house. Since the publication of _Dentist Amigovitch_, this house had become known all over the world as Boris Knackenpast's villa. Now the house was guarded by a company of soldiers to keep visitors out. From an open window Pashkov heard the clicking of a typewriter. "It's when they're not like robots that everybody suspects them," he said, climbing into his flier. "Petchareff will send you word when to announce his 'death'." "A question, brother." "No questions." "Who smuggled the manuscript out of Russia?" Pashkov frowned convincingly. "Comrade Petchareff has suspected even me." He took off for Moscow, poking his flier up through the clouds and flying close to them, as was his habit. Then he switched on the radio and got Petchareff's secretary. "Nadezhda?" "I know what you're up to, Seven One Three," Nadezhda Brunhildova said. "Don't try to fool _me_, you confidence man. You are coming in?" "In ten minutes. What have I done now?" "You were supposed to make funeral arrangements for Knackenpast, so what are you doing in Stockholm?" "Stockholm?" "You're lying and I'll kill you. Don't you think I know about Anastina, that she-nurse in the Stockholm National Hospital?" "Darling, why so cruel? Anastina is one of our contacts. Besides, she's cross-eyed and buck-toothed." "Beast!" She switched him to Petchareff. "What's been keeping you, Pashkov?" "Consoling Medvedev. Am I supposed to be in Stockholm?" "Never mind, get here at once. What size hospital gown do you wear?" "Hospital gown?" "Stockholm embassy says you're in the National Hospital there. In a hospital gown. I got through to Anastina. She says it's Colonel James again. He looks like you now." Pashkov grunted. "I'll never understand," said Petchareff, "why all top secret agents have to look like bankers. Anastina says Colonel James was operated on by a Monsieur Fanti. What do you know about him?" "He's a theatrical surgeon." "You're not playing one of your jokes, Pashkov?" "Hardly." "You'd better be in my office in ten minutes. What size hospital gown?"