the present reign of Frol
Zverev. In fact, Ilya Simonov was not alone in Party circles in wondering
whether or not discipline had been allowed to slip too far. It is easier,
the old Russian proverb goes, to hang onto the reins than to regain them
once dropped.

[Illustration]

But if Moscow had lost much of its pall of fear, Prague had certainly gone
even further. In fact, in the U Pinkasu beer hall Simonov had idly picked
up a magazine left by some earlier wassailer. It was a light literary
publication devoted almost exclusively to humor. There were various
cartoons, some of them touching political subjects. Ilya Simonov had been
shocked to see a caricature of Frol Zverev himself. Zverev, Number One!
Ridiculed in a second-rate magazine in a satellite country!

Ilya Simonov made a note of the name and address of the magazine and the
issue.

Across the heavy wooden community table from him, a beer drinker grinned,
in typically friendly Czech style. "A good magazine," he said. "You should
subscribe."

A waiter, bearing an even dozen liter-size steins of beer hurried along,
spotted the fact that Simonov's mug was empty, slipped a full one into its
place, gave the police agent's saucer a quick mark of a pencil, and
hurried on again. In the U Pinkasu, it was supposed that you wanted
another beer so long as you remained sitting. When you finally staggered
to your feet, the nearest waiter counted the number of pencil marks on
your saucer and you paid up.

Ilya Simonov said cautiously to his neighbor, "Seems to be quite, ah,
brash." He tapped the magazine with a finger.

The other shrugged and grinned again. "Things loosen up as the years go
by," he said. "What a man wouldn't have dared say to his own wife five
years ago, they have on TV today."

"I'm surprised the police don't take steps," Simonov said, trying to keep
his voice expressionless.

The other took a deep swallow of his Pilsen Urquell. He pursed his lips
and thought about it. "You know, I wonder if they'd dare. Such a case
brought into the People's Courts might lead to all sort of public reaction
these days."

It had been some years since Ilya Simonov had been in Prague and even then
he'd only gone through on the way to the ski resorts in the mountains. He
was shocked to find the Czech state's control had fallen off to this
extent. Why, here he was, a complete stranger, being openly talked to on
political subjects.

His cross-the-table neighbor shook