international journalist. This is something only Romanians and amateur political scientists like me know. That is something I like to study.”
“In your spare time.”
“Precisely. But even I had not known of this man. I mean, I knew someone in the House of Deputies—that’s what they call the lower house in Romania—was a peacemaker and leading a movement toward disarmament. But I did not know his name. I believe his goal is global disarmament, which Israelis have come to distrust. But of course he must first bring about disarmament in his own country, which not even you will see in your lifetime. This man is about your age, by the way. Blonde and blue eyed, like the original Romanians, who came from Rome, before the Mongols affected their race.”
“What did you like so much about him?”
“Let me count,” Rosenzweig had said. “He knew my language as well as his own. And he speaks fluent English. Several others also, they tell me. Well educated but also widely self-taught. And I just like him as a person. Very bright. Very honest. Very open.”
“What did he want from you?”
“That was what I liked the best. Because I found him so open and honest, I asked him outright that question. He insisted I call him Nicolae, and so I said, ‘Nicolae’ (this is after an hour of pleasantries), ‘what do you want from me?’ Do you know what he said, young man? He said, ‘Dr. Rosenzweig, I seek only your goodwill.’ What could I say? I said, ‘Nicolae, you have it.’ I am a bit of a pacifist myself, you know. Not unrealistically. I did not tell him this. I merely told him he had my goodwill. Which is something you also have.”
“I suspect that is not something you bestow easily.”
“That is why I like you and why you have it. One day you must meet Carpathia. You would like-each other. His goals and dreams may never be realized even in his own country, but he is a man of high ideals. If he should emerge, you will hear of him. And as you are emerging in your own orbit, he will likely hear of you, or from you, am I right?”
“I hope you are.”
Suddenly it was Buck’s turn at the counter. He gathered up his extension cord and thanked the young woman for bearing with him. “Sorry about that,” he, said, pausing briefly for forgiveness that was not forthcoming. “It’s just that today, of all days, well, you understand.”
Apparently she did not understand. She’d had a rough day, too. She looked at him tolerantly and said, “What can I not do for you?”
“Oh, you mean because I did not do something you asked?”
“No,” she said. “I’m saying that to everybody. It’s my little joke because there’s really nothing I can do for anybody. No flights are scheduled today. The airport is going to close any minute. Who knows how long it will take to clear all the wreckage and get any kind of traffic moving again. I mean, I’ll take your request and everything, but I can’t get your luggage, book you a flight, get you a phone, book you a hotel room, anything we love to do for our members. You are a member, aren’t you?”
“Am I a member!”
“Gold or platinum?”
“Lady, I’m, like, a kryptonite member.”
He flashed his card, showing that he was among the top 3 percent of air travelers in the world. If any flight had one seat in the cheapest section, it had to be given to him and upgraded to first class at no charge.
“Oh, my gosh,” she said, “tell me you’re not the Cameron Williams from that magazine.”
“I am.”
“Time? Honest?”
“Don’t blaspheme. I’m from the competition.”
“Oh, I knew that. The reason I know is that I wanted to get into journalism. I studied it in college. I just read about you, didn’t I? Youngest award winner or most cover stories by someone under twelve?”
“Funny.”
“Or something.”
“I can’t believe we’re joking on a day like this,” he said.
She suddenly clouded over. “I don’t even want to think about it. So
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