Program for a Puppet by Roland Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

occupants of the bus filed out.Another two guards swung the gates open as German shepherd dogs barked a fierce disapproval.
    Graham was greeted by a squat, heavy-featured man with a pockmarked face.
    After a limp handshake and a gutteral, “I’m Hans Hart,” the grubbily dressed PR man proceeded to show Graham around the palace, stressing that no photographs were to be taken. They walked up a marble stairway to the second floor, where there was an excellent view of the palace grounds, of about twenty acres, which were as plush and smooth as a green pool table. The grounds were dotted with small “pleasure pavilions.” One had a tennis court, another a swimming pool. About a dozen people dozed under canopies. Several German shepherds were chained to a barbed-wire-protected high wall, beyond which a thick forest unrolled to the horizon.
    Motioning for silence, Hart led Graham into a library. All its shelves were stark and bare. Every piece of information was apparently on microfilm. About twenty people sat at desks watching miniature TV display units.
    At 12:45 they returned to Hart’s office, where he gave out PR material, including photographs and brochures, and some papers on the organization’s research into world problems.
    After a few minutes they were informed that Letovsky would see the Australian. They were ushered into the professor’s office. Its green silk and gold-paneled walls and ceiling were typical of the restoration, befitting the heads of state to which it once catered. A huge, glittering candelabrum hung from the center of the ceiling.
    Letovsky, a heavily built Russian with black bushy eyebrows and alert brown eyes, unhurriedly eased himself up to shake hands with Graham. Hart spoke rapidly about the reason for the Australian’s visit while Letovsky nodded slightly and stood close, as if he were a prizefighter sizing up an opponent. Apparently satisfied that the stranger was worth a minute or two of his precious time, the Russian motioned them to sit down as he moved back behind his leather-topped desk.
    With his eyes on Graham, he said in near-perfect English, “I didn’t realize we would be news on such a wide sphere, Mr. Graham. But if an article can attract fresh funds, then we arealways interested in speaking to the Western press.” He offered Graham a cigarette and lit one himself.
    The Australian pulled out a tape recorder, saying, “You won’t mind if I …”
    Letovsky waved an indifferent hand. “Use a tape if you wish.” He regarded himself as experienced in handling the Western press.
    Graham nodded a thank-you. “I’ve often read about you making trips to the West with Soviet trade delegations,” he said. “You split your time between that and your work here, I suppose?”
    â€œMore or less, yes,” Letovsky said. He stacked folders on his desk impatiently. “What would you like to know about IOSWOP?”
    Graham switched on his tape. “First, who is financing you? I see in your hand-out material that you have about thirty million dollars’ worth of computer equipment here. That takes some funding.”
    â€œOf course,” Letovsky said, brushing a bit of ash from his floral Dior tie. “Academies and institutions in the Soviet Union and the United States are our biggest supporters. But there are many others from many countries that want membership with us. There are several on the waiting list. It would not, you will understand, be prudent for me to name the smaller contributing nations at this time.”
    â€œWhere are all the scientists from?”
    â€œMainly the institutions that support us.”
    â€œIn proportion to their financial support?”
    â€œYes.”
    The next question had to be as offhand as possible.
    â€œI see that the Brogan Foundation, which is entirely financed by Lasercomp, is down as a contributor. Is it the biggest, Professor?”
    â€œOne