Transition by Henry Charles Mishkoff

Author:Henry Charles Mishkoff [Mishkoff, Henry Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deerfield Addison Books
Published: 2020-04-03T22:00:00+00:00

3.2.10: Kiroly

Savoring the comfortable silence, Dimitri Boronov swirls the remaining liquid in his glass, as if trying to make it appear that its quantity is greater than it actually is. When they have drained their drinks, he knows, the old man will announce his departure and the visit will be over. As if on cue, Ivan Petronovich leans his head back and downs the remains of his drink, marking the end of the evening with two quick gulps.

“Stay the night, Commissioner,” Dimitri urges, anticipating the inevitable announcement. “Our sleeping quarters are comfortable, if not luxurious. And I guarantee that our breakfasts are the heartiest you have ever seen.”

“I appreciate your generous invitation, Dimitri, but I am afraid that I must, once again, decline,” Petronovich says, as Dimitri knew he would. “There remains so much to do before I leave for Qen Phon. So much to do…” He shakes his head sadly. “Despite your inhospitable weather, I have enjoyed my visits here a great deal, and I am saddened that they have come to an end. The next time we meet will be in Qen Phon, and after that… who knows?”

The old man’s meaning is clear: If Dimitri’s protégés fail to live up to their expectations, Dimitri will immediately become persona non grata in the Russian athletic establishment, and Petronovich will have to sever all ties with him immediately, in a desperate – and possibly futile – attempt to save his own skin. But if Dimitri returns to Russia boasting a couple of gold medals, his standing will be abruptly elevated to such heights that he will no longer have to lead a Spartan existence in this desolate outpost. Dimitri will either be exalted or precipitously scorned. There is no middle ground.

“The weather has been magnificent today, Ivan,” Dimitri protests. “I think that you have become so accustomed to complaining about it that you did not even notice how exhilarating it was.”

“And yet you still have to light a fire the moment the sun goes down. In June, Dimitri. A fire in June.” He shakes his head in disgust. “But we speak too much of the weather, yes? It means that we have no more to say. I must go.” And yet, not only does he make no move to rise, he actually appears to sink more deeply into the plush cushions.

Dimitri stands, stretches, walks to the fireplace, and stirs the embers. Unaccustomed as he is to such late hours, even the dying warmth of the nearly extinguished fire makes him long for bed. “To a safe and pleasant journey, Ivan,” he says, lifting his glass in a toast. “And a victorious one,” he adds, although the old man’s incessant preoccupation with victory irritates him. He quickly downs the remains of his elixir and places his glass on the mantle.

“Karl is quite impressive, Dimitri. You have done well.”

“He will win.” Dimitri believes this to be true, and he knows that it is the reassurance that the Commissioner seeks, for perhaps the tenth time this evening.

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