Pashkov turned to the surgeon. "Monsieur, should my face have such a frivolous expression?"
M. Fanti raised his eyebrows, but did not answer.
"I thought," said Pashkov, "that Gospodin Pashkov's face has a more brutal look."
"Propaganda," said the artist. But he came closer and looked at Pashkov's face with sudden interest.
Professor Kristin said, "Colonel James, we presume you have studied the problem in detail. I'm afraid we have delayed announcing the Nobel prize for literature much too long. How soon can you bring Boris Knackenpast to Stockholm?"
So there it was: Boris Knackenpast a supreme success, as Pashkov had suspected. It would be amusing to tell robotist Medvedev about it.
"Delicate, very delicate," Pashkov said. "Everything depends on my not running into Gospodin Pashkov."
"We can't wait any longer," Professor Kristin said. "Fortunately, we have an ally in the enemy camp. The robotist, Medvedev, is expecting you at Knackenpast's villa."
"Bad show," M. Fanti said suddenly. "No good. His left cheekbone is at least four centimeters too high."
The men looked at the surgeon, then at Pashkov.