Windmills of the Gods

It was almost midnight when Mary looked at her watch. “Oh, no! You children should have been in bed hours ago. Scoot.”

Tim went over to Louis. “Will you come see us again?”

“I hope so, Tim.”

Mary saw Louis to the door. He took her hand in his. “They’re beautiful children.” His voice was husky. “I won’t try to tell you what this evening has meant to me, Mary.”

“I’m glad.” She was looking into his eyes, and she felt him moving toward her. She raised her lips.

“Good night, Mary.” And he was gone.

DAvm Victor, the commerce consul, hurried into Mary’s office. “I have some very bad news. I just got a tip that President Ionescu is going to approve a contract with Argentina for a million and a half tons of corn, and with Brazil for half a million tons of soybeans. We were counting heavily on their buying from us.”

“How far have the negotiations gone?”

“They’re almost concluded. We’ve been shut out. I was about to send a cable to Washington-with your approval, of course.”

“Hold off a bit,” Mary said. “I want to think about it.”

“You won’t get President Ioneseu to change his mind. Believe me, I’ve tried every argument I could think of.”

“Then we have nothing to lose if I give it a try.” She buzzed her secretary. “Dorothy, get me the presidential palace.”

ALExomRos Ionescu invited Mary to the palace for lunch. As she entered she was greeted at the door by Nicu, his fourteenyear-old son. He was a handsome boy, tall for his age, with beautiful black eyes and a flawless complexion.

“Good afternoon, Madsen Ambassador,” he said. “I am Nicu. Welcome to the palace. I have heard very nice things about you.”

“Thank you. I’m pleased to hear that, Nicu.”

“I will tell my father you have arrived.”

MARY AND IONESCU SAT ACROss from each other in the formal dining room, just the two of them. The President had been drinking and was in a mellow mood. He lit a Snogoy, the vile-smelling Remanian cigarette.

“Mr; President,” said Mary, “I was eager to meet with you, because there is something important I would like to discuss with you.”

Ionescu almost laughed aloud. He knew exactly why she had come. The Americans wished to sell him corn and soybeans, but they were too late. The American ambassador would go away empty-handed this time. Too bad. Such an attractivewoman.

“Yes?” he said innocently.

“I want to talk to you about sister cities.”

lonescu blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Sister cities. You know, like San Francisco and Osaka, Los Angeles and Bombay, Washington and Bangkok… .”

“-don’t understand. What does that have to do with-“

“Mr. President, it occurred to me that you could get headlines all over the world if you made Bucharest a sister city of some American city. It would get almost as much attention as President Ellison’s people-to-people plan.”

He said cautiously, “A sister city with a city in the United States? It is an interesting idea. What would it involve?”

“Mostly, wonderful publicity for you. You would be a hero. It would be your idea. You would pay the city a visit. A delegation from Kansas City would pay you a visit.”

Kansas City?”

“That’s just a suggestion, of course. Kansas City is Middle America. There are farmers there, like your farmers. Mr. President, your name will be on everyone’s lips. No one in Europe has thought of doing this.”

He sat there, silent. “I-I would naturally have to give this a great deal of thought.”

“Naturally.”

“Kansas City, Kansas, and Bucharest, Remania.” He nodded. “We are a much larger city, of course.”

“Of course. Bucharest would be the big sister.”

“I must admit it is a very intriguing idea.” Your name will be on everyone’s lips. “Is there any chance of a rejection from the American side?” Ioneseu asked.

“Absolutely none. I can guarantee it.”

He sat there reflecting. “When would this go into effect?”

“Just as soon as you’re ready to announce it. I’ll handle our end.”

Ionescu thought. of something else. “We could set up a trade exchange with our sister city. Remania has many things to sell. Tell me, what crops does Kansas grow?”

“Among other things,” Mary said quietly, “corn and soybeans.”

“You really made the deal? You actually fooled him?” David Victor asked incredulously.

“Not for a minute,” Mary assured him. “loneseu knew what I was after. He just liked the package I wrapped it in. You can go in and close the deal. He’s already rehearsing his television speech.”

WHEN Stanton Rogers heard the news, he telephoned Mary. “You’re a genius.” He laughed. “We thought we’d lost that deal. How in the world did you do it?”

“Ego,” Mary said. “His.”

“The President asked me to tell you what a really great job you’re doing over there, Mary.”

“Thank him for me, Stan.”

“I will. By the way, the President and I are leaving for China in a few weeks. If you need me, you can get in touch with me.

through my office.”

“Have a wonderful trip.”

Chapter Nine

OVER the swiffly moving weeks the dancing March winds had given way to spring and then summer. Trees and flowers blossomed everywhere in Bucharest, and the parks were green.