Without looking up, Hand nodded.
"Follow me, slowly."
No one from the Progressive Tours group was in sight. Hank wandered
after the guard, looking into display cases as he went. Finally the
other turned a corner into an empty and comparatively narrow corridor.
He stopped and waited for the American.
"You're Kuran?" he asked anxiously in Russian.
"That's right."
"You're not afraid?"
"No. Let's go." Inwardly Hank growled, _Of course I'm afraid. Do I
look like a confounded hero?_ What was it Sheridan Hennessey had said?
This was combat, combat cold-war style, but still combat. Of course he
was afraid. Had there ever in the history of combat been a participant
who had gone into it unafraid?
They walked briskly along the corridor. The guard said, "You have
studied your maps?"
"Yes."
"I can take you only so far without exposing myself. Then you are on
your own. You must know your maps or you are lost. These old palaces
ramble--"
"I know," Hank said impatiently. "Brief me as we go along. Just for
luck."
"Very well. We leave Orushezhnaya Palace by this minor doorway. Across
there, to our right, is the _Bolshoi Kremlevski Dvorets_, the Great
Kremlin Palace. It's there the Central Executive Committee meets, and
the Assembly. The same hall used to be the czar's throne room in the
old days. On the nearer side, on the ground floor, are the
_Sobstvennaya Plovina_, the former private apartments of Nicholas
First. The extraterrestrials are there."
"You're sure? The others weren't sure."
"That's where they are."
"How can we get to them?"
"_We_ can't. Possibly _you_ can. I can take you only so far. The front
entrance is strongly guarded, we are going to have to enter the Great
Palace from the rear, through the Teremni Palace. You remember your
maps?"
"I think so."
They strode rapidly from the museum through a major courtyard. Hank to
the right and a step behind the uniformed guard.
The other was saying, "The Teremni preceded the Great Palace. One of
its walls was used to become the rear of the later structure. We can
enter it fairly freely."
They entered through another smaller doorway a hundred feet or more
from the main entrance, climbed a short marble stairway and turned
right down an ornate corridor, tapestry hung. They passed
occasionally other uniformed guards, none of whom paid them any
attention.
They passed through three joined rooms, each heavily furnished in
Seventeenth Century style, each thick with icons. The guide brought
them up abruptly at a small door.
He said, an air almost of defiance in his tone, "I go no further.
Through this door and you are in the Great Palace, in the bathroom of
the apartments of Catherine Second. You remember your maps?"
"Yes," Hank said.
"I hope so." The guard hesitated. "You are armed?"
"No. We were afraid that my things might be thoroughly searched. Had a
gun been found on me, my mission would have been over then and there."
The guard produced a heavy military revolver, offered it butt
foremost.
But Hank shook his head. "Thanks. But if it comes to the point where
I'd need a gun--I've already failed. I'm here to talk, not to shoot."
The guard nodded. "Perhaps you're right. Now, I repeat. On the other
side of this door is the bathroom of the Czarina's apartments. Beyond
it is her _paradnaya divannaya_, her dressing room and beyond that the
_Ekaterininskaya sala_, the throne room of Catherine Second. It is
probable that there will be nobody in any of these rooms. Beyond that,
I do not know."
He ended abruptly with "Good luck," turned and scurried away.
"Thanks," Hank Kuran said after him. He turned and tried the
door-knob. Inwardly he thought, _All right Henry Kuran. Hennessey
said you had a reputation for being able to think on your feet. Start
thinking. Thus far all you've been called on to do is exchange
low-level banter with a bevy of pro-commie critics of the United
States. Now the chips are down._
* * * * *
The apartments of the long dead czarina were empty. He pushed through
them and into the corridor beyond.
And came to a quick halt.
Halfway down the hall, Loo Motlamelle crouched over a uniformed,
crumpled body. He looked up at Hank Kuran's approach, startled, a
fighting man at bay. His lips thinned back over his teeth. A black
thumb did something to the weapon he held in his hand.