Johann waited anxiously, checking his watch every ten minutes. Aleksandra had organised a visit to the Bolshoi Theatre for tonight. Shakhlikov, who knocked shortly before five o'clock and entered the study, was wearing a black suit with a dark red tie.

"Doctor, are you ready? Comrade Piatnitskaya will surely be here on time". Johann nodded and grinned, "Your adjustment today doesn't seem particularly revolutionary. I mean, apart from the red tie."

Shakhlikov picked up the ball: "After all, the piece is not by Shostakovich but by your Mozart. And I have no problem dressing up in this bourgeois costume for it. Opera is basically a place of disguise."

As if one should be able to set the clock after that, the room bell rang at 17h00 sharp. While Shakhlikov went to open the door, Johann quickly looked at himself in the mirror. He had smoothed out the frock coat he had taken with him for more formal occasions in the steam of the hot shower. Somehow he was looking forward to seeing the inside of the famous opera house. He also wondered how Mozart was played and sung in the Soviet Union. His thoughts in this direction were abruptly interrupted when Shakhlikov entered the room with Aleksandra. It took Johann a moment to take her hand in greeting. The sight of her had almost left him speechless. Aleksandra was wearing a floor-length, wine-red dress and a matching, wide silk scarf. Her hair, which was usually tied back tightly, was pinned up in an elaborate hairstyle. Only at second glance did Johann notice that she was not wearing any jewellery with this stunning ensemble. Until now she had always appeared in inconspicuous grey, green or dark brown outfits, always coiffed in the same way and never wearing make-up.

With a touch of pleasure, Alexandra also noticed that her counterpart must have been taken aback. She had borrowed the dress from the relevant department of the Foreign Ministry because it would never have occurred to her to want something like that for herself. Neither would she voluntarily go to the opera, but General Schelepin had insisted on today's appointment. "Doctor Erath, I am looking forward to a pleasant evening. We will be able to see the performance from his box as guests of the Ottoman ambassador. And, you will be pleased to know, your acquaintance, Lieutenant-Colonel Bruschek, will also be present."

Only this hint reminded Johann that he had not heard from his travelling companions for a fortnight. Had he really only spoken to Aleksandra and Shakhlikov during this time? The days had flown by.

"After the performance, the ambassador will invite us to dinner at the embassy. Comrade Piatnitskaya therefore suggests that we start work tomorrow only after lunch, in order to have sufficient time to regenerate."

Johann, still mesmerised by the sight of Aleksandra, nodded absent-mindedly in response to Shakhlikov's translation.

"Please tell Doctor Piatnitskaya that I am happy to agree to the proposal. I am very happy to see Lieutenant Colonel Bruschek and Staff Sergeant Winter again."

Shakhlikov shook his head in wonder, "Thomas will not be there. The ambassador's invitation was - as is customary in the West - only for the superior officer. Am I lucky," he added with a grin, "that you don't know Russian well enough yet to do without me as interpreter. Otherwise, of course, I would not be able to attend this dinner either."

Ambassador Yenal, who was already in the box with Lieutenant Colonel Bruschek when Aleksandra, Johann and Shakhlikov arrived, first greeted her in accent-free Russian and assigned her the best seat in the box. Then he greeted Johann in German: "I am pleased that you have accepted the invitation. Lieutenant Colonel Bruschek has told me a lot about you and your thirst for knowledge. Once you have completed your research in Russia, you must definitely visit Turkey."

He directed him to the seat next to Aleksandra and sat down next to him. Lieutenant Colonel Bruschek and Shakhlikov took the two seats behind them. "May I ask why you speak German, Mr. Ambassador?" asked Johann, who was surprised at the greeting and at the same time wondered what Bruschek had really told the ambassador.

"In a way, we are compatriots. My family was employed in the service of the Sultans in the Balkans for centuries. After the Habsburg conquest of Bosnia-Herzegovina - no, as you would say, after the Habsburgs took over the protectorate over the independent country - in 1878, my great-grandfather Cemal became the Ottoman consul in Sarajevo. My grandfather was a liaison officer in Vienna during the First World War, where my father was also born. After the Young Turk revolution, the Yenals' political involvement was briefly suspended, but after the restoration of 1932, Sultan Abdulmecid again entrusted my grandfather with a post in Vienna, this time as ambassador. German was therefore a language that was always learned and spoken in my family, along with Turkish. And since my grandfather married a Bulgarian woman from Kazanlak, the foundation for understanding the Slavic languages was also laid in my cradle. My uncle also married into Bulgaria and lives in Kazanlak to this day. But we should discuss everything else over dinner, for now we have to listen to a Marxist introduction to the work, which will explain the class-struggle value of this opera."

Johann winced slightly at this mocking remark. True, Aleksandra could not have understood this jibe, but Shakhlikov was sitting right behind him. Johann turned to see if he had heard anything and how he reacted. Shakhlikov leaned forward and whispered into his ear, which was facing the ambassador so that he could hear everything: "I will probably only be able to translate excerpts of the grandiose remarks of the Commissar for Socialist Artistic Understanding, since this vocabulary is not one of my specialities. Besides, the opera is self-explanatory, as it shows the excellent understanding of progressive Austria with the Turkish monarchy, which is reappraising its historical heritage, if I have interpreted the programme correctly." With a wink, he gave Johann the programme booklet, which was, however, only written in Cyrillic.

The ambassador glanced briefly at Shakhlikov before continuing unrelatedly to Johann: "How clever the Soviet translators have become. In case you can't read Cyrillic: We are seeing 'Abduction from the Seraglio' today."

Johann winced: Good thing he hadn't picked the date. It wouldn't have shown much diplomatic skill to invite the Turkish ambassador to this opera that made fun of harem customs and patriarchy in the Ottoman Empire. Aleksandra, on the other hand, seemed to listen with interest to the cultural commissioner's remarks, which had begun in the meantime. After the introduction, which lasted about fifteen minutes, the small, grey-haired man left the stage. Aleksandra was the first to stand up, and while the others were still standing up, Shakhlikov whispered in Johann's ear, "The Soviet anthem will be played before the opera."

Johann was embarrassed to find that not only Aleksandra and Shakhlikov, but also the ambassador, were singing along with the anthem. Lieutenant Colonel Bruschek saluted silently.

When everyone sat down after the anthem and the light slowly dimmed, the ambassador turned to Johann again: "I sing this anthem out of respect for the Soviet Union, of course; and," he looked more at Shakhlikov than at Johann, "because the melody would also be worth singing with any other text."

Musically, the opera was a delight, even if Johann looked over at Ambassador Yenal several times during the performance to see if he would not be offended by the rather crude allusions to the inadequate living conditions in a harem. Aleksandra, who did not care for operas on principle, had only referred during the interval to the socialist precise portrayal of the revolutionary woman who was breaking down the male chauvinist order. Johann had noticed with a smirk that the ambassador and the lieutenant colonel found this interpretation quite strange.

When they went downstairs after the opera via the staircase of the lodge guests, a group of differently uniformed men was waiting. If Johann had previously felt a slight unease about this, it had now become almost normal to him. Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck saluted the others, who returned the salute and then shook hands in friendship. The ambassador took over the introductions: "Doctor Piatnitskaya, may I introduce Colonel Ivan Nischalep from the Attache Department of the Soviet Ministry of Defence, a good friend who will also be joining us for dinner." Aleksandra nodded formally and extended her hand to the colonel in greeting. The ambassador now introduced the rest of the people to the colonel.

For his part, the colonel now began to introduce his escort: "Let me introduce you to Comrade Colonel Maria Bogenza, the head of the Moscow Air Force Hospital, Colonel Thomas Zollnikov, the head of the press department of the Soviet Ministry of Defence, Colonel Marcel Jacob Saecal, the French Defence Attaché, and Colonel Cemal Yenichar, the Turkish Defence Attaché, who is naturally familiar to them. As the four of them revealed to me, they will be dining later today on the Lenin Tower, from where there is a perfect view of Moscow lit up at night."

Johann, like the other members of his group, greeted those introduced. He was strangely surprised to see a woman in uniform. Such a thing was completely unthinkable in Austria, apart from the school uniforms of the teachers and the costumes of the nurses. Here the Soviet Union had really gone its own way, although Johann didn't yet know if he was comfortable with that.

After a more informal farewell, the Turkish ambassador's group went to the two vehicles waiting in front of the exit, which were decorated with the Turkish flag: "It makes it much easier to get through Moscow's evening traffic to have these little flags with you," he said in his winning way. He and Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck rode in the first car, Aleksandra, Johann and Shakhlikov in the second. The man introduced as Colonel Nischalep followed in a dark limousine with military licence plates.

Although Johann thought he had learned a lot about Aleksandra by now, she surprised him again when the group got out of the car on the grounds of the Turkish embassy: as if she had done this often, she wrapped her silk scarf, which Johann had thought was just a decorative accessory, into a headscarf that hid her hairstyle. To his questioning look, she replied: "Just so you understand this gesture correctly, I don't think anything of the oppression of women, but I respect cultural habits of other people, if through this respect the access to socialism is made easier for the others. And then, despite all cultural differences, one will be able to pursue the same goals."

Shakhlikov had not yet finished translating when the ambassador and Bruschek joined them. The ambassador showed the group the way to the main entrance. As they walked, he turned to Aleksandra: "I appreciate your gesture very much. If you like, my wife will come after our dinner and give you a tour of the embassy gardens, which she herself has replanted with great care." Aleksandra deftly picked up the ball: "Mr Ambassador, thank you for this opportunity. Garden architecture is not one of my specialties, so I will be happy to learn from an expert here. Besides, smoking hookah doesn't suit me, which I think you will invite the gentlemen to do after dinner."

After an excellent dinner served on large platters in an orientally decorated room, a staff member escorted Aleksandra out of the room. The plates were cleared, and a hookah placed at each of the low couches. "Doctor, I have had your pipe prepared very mildly because I suspect you have not tried anything like this before." Johann was in a quandary: basically, he didn't care for smokes at all. And he had never smoked a hookah before. He simply tried to follow the example of the others.

Although Shakhlikov, who had the couch next to him, eagerly translated everything the two military men discussed with the ambassador, the picture blurred more and more before Johann's eyes. The more his mind became clouded by the smoke, the more laboriously he tried to follow the political and military deliberations. When discussing the improved diplomatic climate between Turkey and Iran, Johann was able to score points with some facts from the earlier history of the Abbasid caliphs. When the conversation turned to France's policy in Algeria, in contrast to the reserved Bruschek, he fully endorsed the clear protest of the Russian colonel who fundamentally questioned military action to hold down subjugated territories in their condition, while at the same time speaking in favour of more human rights and self-determination of peoples in the UN.

"Colonel Saecal would certainly dislike your view." the ambassador poured some more oil on the fire. "I would also say it directly to his face, because in my opinion diplomacy is far too cowardly to speak the truth. They would rather act in the dark and conceal more by their words than they reveal. I recommend the Letter to the Ephesians, where it says: 'Everything that is uncovered is enlightened by light. Everything that is enlightened is light!' This is how we should talk to each other, then we would save ourselves all war and injustice!"

Strangely disinhibited by the hookah, Johann added a tirade about the hypocritical policies of the French Revolution, which would not have served the liberation of mankind by explicitly and violently holding down women and slaves, nor would it have taken into account the equality of citizens and freedom of conscience by executing believers for their faith. He also shrugged off Lieutenant-Colonel Bruscheck's attempt to slow him down a bit and just went on to castigate any form of religious oppression as absolutely inconsistent: "If atheistic systems were coherent in themselves, they would assert themselves of their own accord and would not have to persecute and kill believers. But he who is not sure of his own cause is unsettled by the testimony of others: Therefore, he either wants to re-educate them or murder them!"

If the Russian colonel had listened with great interest until now, this direction made him even more curious. Ambassador Yenal tried to steer the conversation in a more harmless direction and asked if anyone else would like some coffee. But the Russian colonel now addressed the question directly to Johann; and Shakhlikov had no choice but to translate verbatim: "You represent a radical position. Unfortunately, I am too little versed in certain customs of your institution. Please help me: did you mean to criticise the religious policy of the Soviet Union, which wants to save people from oppressive paternalism and deliberate misleading, or did you have in mind the policy of numerous Western potentates, who want to impose explicitly Christian rules and moral concepts, based on an alleged revelation, obligatorily on all people living in your state territories, often supported by your organisation, because people cannot logically be reasonably convinced of the correctness of these rules?"

For Johann, this was a clear declaration of war. Bruscheck and Yenal waited anxiously for the answer, Shakhlikov glanced alternately at Johann and the colonel. "I think" Johann formulated, trying with all his might to speak slowly and clearly, although his tongue seemed too long and his lips submitted with difficulty to his will, "that every system has the right to state its ideas in a language that can be understood by all, whether the system is based on revelations, observations of nature or philosophical considerations. In either case, individuals must have the free choice to subscribe to or reject the system. The prohibition of compulsory baptism, to cite an example from my institution, is now a recognised fact and has always been theoretically preserved by the unthinkably ancient rite according to which everyone must ask for baptism himself. But every system, yours and mine not excepted, is in danger, out of impatience, not to wait for the people's insight, but to hasten their consent by the application of social, financial or military pressure. And the existence of communists in Austria as well as Christians in the Soviet Union, despite unjust state persecution, shows that some will always resist this pressure. And even their murder will not break but strengthen the will of others to resist, as the martyrs of all systems prove. With the same vehemence, if that answers your question, I condemn the repressive and at times murderous religious policy of the Soviet Union as I condemn the missionary and state church policy in Western countries which seeks to force Catholic behaviour past the insight of the faithful."

The colonel stood up with a jerk, whereupon the ambassador, Lieutenant Colonel Bruscheck and Shakhlikov also stood up. Johann also tried to get up quickly but staggered back. Shakhlikov helped him up and supported him as inconspicuously as possible. The colonel turned to the ambassador: "Mr Ambassador, the meal was excellent. Please convey my best wishes to your wife. It is getting very late, and I have to go to work in the morning."

Johann was a little confused and addressed the colonel again, "I did not mean to offend you in any way. Perhaps we can continue the conversation at a more appropriate time?"

Shakhlikov translated under the attentive listening of Ambassador Yenal: "Doctor Erath apologises for any misleading remarks that may have offended the reputation of the Soviet Union or the Colonel."

The colonel nodded grimly. Turning to the ambassador, he said, "I think it is also better if I take Comrade Piatnitskaya with me. It makes more sense for Doctor Erath to go straight back to the hotel with Comrade Shakhlikov."

The ambassador led the colonel, who had formally bid farewell to Bruscheck and Johann and ignored Shakhlikov, to the front door: "Thank you very much, I will have Doctor Piatnitskaya escorted to your car immediately. I hope to be able to welcome you again as a guest in our modest house soon. This place is at your disposal for further meetings."

After the car had left the embassy grounds, the Russian colonel turned to Aleksandra, who was now wearing her scarf around her shoulders again, "Your reports did not promise too much. I think this Erath is our man."

Aleksandra turned to her seatmate, "Comrade General, I do not understand the purpose of today's meeting. I realised that I would address you with your chosen identity, but why this meeting and why at the Turkish Embassy?"

"There are few places in Moscow where General Shelepin can meet with others in an unbiased manner. That somewhat habitual background music that accompanied us all evening today was to ensure that our service did not eavesdrop on too much information, for which, of course, I will hold certain people accountable tomorrow. Cemal, the ambassador, is not only a good friend of the Austrian attaché, but the two of us have also known each other for many years and have worked together on several occasions. He also had the idea with the hashish in the water pipe to loosen the tongue of our guest a bit. The reaction was as desired. I think we have a brave, if somewhat uptight, ally on our hands."

Aleksandra interrupted the general, "You let him smoke hashish?"

Shelepin nodded, "Yes, and all sorts of other things Cemal has put together. He may have a bit of a headache tomorrow. Otherwise there should be no side effects. Comrade Shakhlikov will take him home and put him to sleep."

Aleksandra remained tense.

"That was the reason I didn't want you to take him home. In that dress and with his mood loosened, it would be too great a danger to his continence. And, after all, we don't want to make him vulnerable to a carelessness at his institution."

Aleksandra felt a certain resentment rise within her towards her mentor, "Firstly, I could very well defend myself on my own, as you can see from all reports of my close combat training. Secondly, I am perfectly certain that even under the most adverse circumstances, his sense of duty would prevail."

Shelepin now turned directly to Aleksandra as well, "You are not trying to defend him now, do you?"

Aleksandra held her gaze, "Yes I am, and rightly so, Comrade General. I've spent a lot of time with him over the last two weeks and I think I have a good idea of him in some respects."

Schelepin now looked forward again, "I think so too. But in such a case it is like with a big target: if you stand directly in front of it, you can see the texture of its surface exactly, but the whole shape gets out of sight. For that, it needs observation from a distance."