Free Summit by Richard Bowker

some of Colonel Poole's time so he can sit in on a few meetings and talk to people over at Langley? He certainly knows more about endorphins than we do."
    "Of course, Mr. President."
    "Tom, is that okay with you?"
    Poole nodded. "I'm honored that you place such trust in me, sir."
    "Good. It's settled, then." Winn stood up. That was about as long a meeting as he cared to have. "Thank you, gentlemen."
    They murmured their thanks in return and left the Oval Office. Winn looked out into the Rose Garden and sighed as his chief of staff hurried in to brief him on the next meeting.

 
     
     
    Chapter 8

     
    The man was wearing a Yankees cap, a University of Guelph sweatshirt, one gold earring, and wraparound sunglasses. Long blond hair spilled out from beneath the cap; a fuzzy blond mustache perched on his upper lip. He was carrying a Bloomingdale's shopping bag; he was chewing bubble gum.
    He blew an enormous bubble before saying anything. It just missed his mustache when it burst. He grinned. "I'm a poet," he said in a raspy voice to the woman, "and I got copies of all the poems I ever wrote right here in this bag. This looks like a classy place, so I figured you might be interested in buying some direct from the author. Eliminate the bourgeois capitalist middleman who sucks the blood out of us sensitive artists, know what I mean? So what do you say? A lyric ode, maybe? Or a sonnet sequence—you look like the romantic type, am I right? How about a sestina? Very tricky to write, sestinas. They're on special this week, actually. Two for a dollar ninety-nine, and that's my final offer."
    Marcia picked up the phone. "I'll tell Mr. Hershohn you're here, Mr. Fulton."
    "Shit," Fulton said.
    * * *
    Charles Hershohn was a bloodsucking bourgeois capitalist middleman. It was not an easy job. The man sitting across the desk from him wearing the University of Guelph sweatshirt was the main reason. "How nice to see you, Daniel," Hershohn said. "You're looking well."
    Fulton blew a bubble.
    "Marcia informed me there was some sort of, uh, problem with the, uh, CIA while I was out of town."
    Fulton took off his sunglasses. "Have you received an offer from Goskoncert for me to play in Moscow this fall?"
    Hershohn nodded. "It would have been forwarded to you in due course with all the other offers, to save you the trouble of rejecting each of them separately."
    "Very kind of you. This one I want to accept."
    Hershohn felt a sudden need for a drink. He was not a drinking man. "Daniel," he said as gently as he could, "how do I know that this will be different from the other offers that you have, on occasion, accepted in the past three years? I only end up apologizing to everyone when you change your mind."
    "I know. I've been a bad boy," Fulton said. "But this is different. You can trust me on this one."
    He sounded sincere. He often sounded sincere. "Daniel, give me a reason why I can trust you on this one. I don't mind kissing off the communists if you change your mind , but if you are going to do this, I want a record contract, I want a video, I want you to make some real money—and that starts to complicate things."
    "I don't care about that stuff. Let's just do the recital."
    Hershohn made a connection. It seemed crazy, but... "Does this have anything to do with the CIA business you were talking to Marcia about, Daniel?"
    Fulton stared at him, stared at the ceiling. "Are you going to bother me until I give you a reason?" he asked finally.
    "Daniel, your career is on the line," Hershohn said. "You might not care about it, but I do. No matter how talented you are, you can't keep acting irresponsibly and not have some fallout."
    Fulton shrugged. "Okay. There is a psychic in Moscow. The CIA wants me to go there, using the recital as an excuse, meet her, and convince her to defect. You cannot tell that to a living soul. Now will you make the arrangements?"
    "I thought the CIA, uh, kidnapped you."
    "For God's sake, Charles, Marcia has always