Marsden nodded, then asked: "What brings you here?" "It's a long story, and since you are working for the American government now, I don't think I'd better tell you. Not that anything I plan doing will hurt America--far from it. But you know about time-travel and the way we have to do everything in secret. All I want is some information, anyway. What's the current international state of affairs?" "I wish I knew, Tedor. Frankly, I'm worried. The Russians have massed three million troops on their European border, another million to the east, north of the Yellow Sea. Their big planes, capable of delivering anything including atomic weapons a third of the way around the world, are lined up on a 'round-the-clock stand-by basis at half a dozen airfields; there's talk they'll be used soon. Everything seems to hinge on something happening in the Kremlin right now. There's talk, wild rumors, but nothing official." "What are the rumors about?" "You'll think this is silly, but they're from usually reliable sources. They claim Stalin has come back to life." "What!" "That's right. Stalin has come back, sort of like a totalitarian Communist Messiah. All people have a culture-hero who's supposed to come back in times of trouble and lead his nation to glory. Even though Stalin's been gone only a year and a half, he's the Russian culture-hero. If somehow they can rig up a setup--the men in the Kremlin, I mean--which convinces the people he has come back and wants war, there's no telling what Russia might do." "But does the Kremlin want war?" Marsden shrugged. "It might be necessary to keep power. The people don't like their government, although they tolerated it under Stalin because he managed to convince them he was something of a deity. But if the government can turn the people to an exterior trouble, namely a world war, the government would stay in power. It depends on what these rumors are all about." "And don't you know?" "No." "Okay, Harry. Thanks. Listen, don't tell Dorlup I was here if he should call you. I'll get in touch with him when I have a chance." Marsden gave Tedor an address where Dorlup could be reached, told him they'd have to have lunch together some time, then led him to the door. * * * * * Vladimir Chenkov's dacha--his big estate at the far end of the private highway some thirty-odd miles south of Moscow--almost had the proportions of a palace. It was big all over, with huge rooms, high ceilings, half a dozen fireplaces, two grand pianos, ponderous, overstuffed furniture and eight private bedrooms, each easily large enough to accommodate four people although each contained only one oversized bed. "You're a strange girl, Anna," said Chenkov, sitting with her on bearskins near the fireplace and trying to maneuver in such a way that when she grew tired her head would naturally fall into his lap. "Oh, I like you--yes. Don't misunderstand. But at times you are so--cold."