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.The overwhelming gall taste always reminded me ofundergraduate days.Page 103 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlNobody paid any attention to me as I walked up to the LeningradHotel entrance.Security people had formed up in a double line so that theluminaries could make it to their limousines, running the gauntlet ofphotographers.I overheard something about Fitzpatrick staying on inRussia for a few days.Probably a good idea.Probably a number of hiscompatriots will suggest that he take up residence permanently.One advantage to being thin is that you can slip through crowds.It only tookme a minute to make my way to the edge of the police line.Various people walked through the television lights, looking important.Then came Secretary Froelich, whom I recognized, and then the president,looking at the sidewalk with a sad smile.Behind him was a stranger.Thestranger passed within two yards of me, looked straight into my face, andsuddenly flinched and turned pale.It was Foley, by God.It didn't look like him, but who else could it be?I smiled and gave him a half salute, then watched the back of his head as hefollowed Fitzpatrick to the limo.He looked back once, andI was still smiling.Let him fidget.I wasn't going to blow the whistle on him.Twice he spared me when he couldhave greatly simplified his life by killing me, at no danger to himself.Besides, it might work.His cockeyed scheme might work.CHAPTER FORTY-NICK EpilogueIT WAS VALERIE'S idea.Where was the best hiding place for someone who couldbe history's richest and most powerful man, independent of any government? Ahaven of poverty and insignificance, of course, in the swollen heart of thebureaucracy itself: the PeaceCorps.For ten years, she and I toiled in the drought-scourged villages and farms ofRwanda, helping scrape irrigation systems out of the hard crust of the land,teaching English and numbers and our own version of TheAmerican Way.She was in her natural element, helping people.For me it was along decade.As penance, though, I suppose it worked.The bad dream went away,and so did the killing.Though I don't think Iwould ever have tried to kill anyone without the watch, and it was in asafe-deposit box on the other side of the world.Curiously, at the very end time of Valerie's fertility, she became pregnant.(When she stopped menstruating, we thought it was menopause.It was Nick,junior.) She delivered him in an American hospital, because of the possibilityof complications, but we returned toRwanda and raised Nickie in relative poverty.Being poor didn'timpress him, of course, given his surroundings and companions; and we havetried to raise him in such a way that when he eventually finds out he hasmillions, that won't impress him, either.I came back from Rwanda old and leathery but fit, weighing about what I did inBasic Training.We found a suburban community with good schools and bought acarefully modest house.I took one certificate of deposit out of thesafe-deposit box and spread it around several local banks.I took the watchout, put a fresh battery in it, and hilariously tested it on Valerie.Then Ireturned it to the box, along with the millions in CD's and securities thathad grown from the cash left over from our second round of plastic surgery inZacatecas.It looks as if this twenty-first century may turn out better than the previousone.The four largest nuclear powers playing a reverseMexican standoff, just as Valerie had predicted.Usually it's France whoditches a warhead, just to make the others scramble.It's always a smallwarhead.But every year there are not quite as many bombs around as mere werebefore.Page 104 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlOf course there are still wars, and rumors of war, and we may yet live to seenations consumed in nuclear fire.At least it won't be the whole planetburning.Not so long as they follow the rules of the game.But treaties are only promises, and promises are only as good as the peoplewho make them.The warhead factories can be started up as quickly as they wereshut down.This boy of mine is twelve years old.He speaks Russian andFrench as well as his native English and Swahili, and he keeps the abilitysecret.His childhood tempered with poverty, he owes allegiance to no god orcountry or culture; he doesn't even think of himself aswhite.Most people get a watch when they retire.He'll get his when Ithink he's ready to start work.Page 105
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