"Well . . ."There's something crafty about this old man, Kinsman realized. "May I ask why?"
Baliagorev shifted his gaze to Landau momentarily, then looked back at Kinsman. His eyes were ice-blue. "Put it down as the whim of an old man. The women here are much prettier. The nurses at Lunagrad are awful—huge beasts, ungainly, hopeless."
"That's not true," Landau murmured.
"Bah! Why should I hide it? I want political asylum. I was seeking asylum in France when my countrymen arrested me and carted me to a hospital in Siberia. A psychiatric hospital! That is where my heart broke."
Kee-rist! Just what we need. Kinsman kept his eyes off Landau as he replied, "This is a very touchy time to ask for political asylum, you know."
Baliagorev pursed his thin, bluish lips.
Jill cut in, "There will be no discussions of politics of any sort as long as my patient is in intensive care." Turning sternly to Baliagorev, she shook a stubby finger at him. "We haven't brought you back from clinical death just so you can kill 373 yourself with excitement over politics!"
Landau broke into a laugh. "She's right, Nicholai Ivano- vich. This is no time to discuss politics."
The old man raised his wispy eyebrows. "Very well. You have performed your miracle, and you don't want your Lazarus to suffer a relapse, eh? But will you be discussing politics with our countrymen, Alexsei Alexandrovich?"
The Russian doctor shook his head gravely. "No. I promise you."
"You can trust Alexsei," Jill said.
"I'm sure you can trust him," Baliagorev muttered. Then, with a crooked grin that threatened to turn into a leer, "Admit it, Jilyushka, you were necking with this bearded rascal, eh?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, I was,"Jill admitted cheerfully. "And if you don't stop teasing, I'll put nothing but male nurses in here with you."
The Russian hesitated only for a moment, "H'mm ... if they are young and tender ..."
"You're impossible!"
Kinsman managed to say, "All right. Listen, Jill, Alex- sei: your patient will have to stay here several more days, won't he?"
"At least a week," Landau answered.
"I could arrange to have a relapse," Baliagorev said.
Kinsman raised a hand. "Let's allow things to work themselves out for a week." Before they could argue or object, he ducked back out through the doorway and headed down the corridor.
But he heard the ballet master's voice saying gently, "Now then, Jilyushka, there is no reason why you could not become a first-rate dancer here on the Moon. With this low gravity, and me to teach you, we could work miracles."
