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. We have a classstarting in this room. John yelled back, Sorry. As they got up to leave, John wondered, Why was I so surprised? Itfelt like I could have completed her sentence when she told me that.but I couldn t have known that.Crazy.He led her to his office, where he motioned her in first, then left thedoor open behind him he never closed the door with a female studentin his office.His desk faced the wall, since he hated to put a desk be-tween him and a student.He offered his own cushioned captain s chairto her, took the desk chair, and turned it to face her.They picked up the conversation where they d left off.He foundout that her mother owned Nguon Industries and was very rich he wasnot told this, but surmised it and Joy worked on computers at hergodmother Gu Yaping s company, Peng Magnetics and Propulsion.Her mother had her trained at a very early age in karate and judo.He told her about his mother the top-ten tennis pro, and the fatherhe hardly saw as he grew older, and who died mysteriously while work-ing for the CIA.Then he told her about his growing interest in doingsomething about war and democide, and that the democratic peaceseemed the solution, the more he studied it.Totally lost in her eyes and manner, her tilted head, her caressingvoice, he couldn t recall where in the discussion they started callingeach other Joy and John.But he did remember that she had said, I mJoy that Miss Phim is a turnoff, and emphasized it by jabbing a deli-cate finger into his shoulder.He had resisted. You are my student.I can t call you Joy. I am an auditor, not really a student, she countered. Besides, as Itold you, I have already completed college and graduate school.And Iam almost as old as you are.You re twenty-six, and a fresh Ph.D.fromYale.I m twenty-five.Call me Joy or henceforth I will forever call youDr.Professor Banks. Never Again? 245He stared at her.That s right.political science? Computer sci-ence? Holy Christ.He threw his hands up and replied, I m John.Niceto meetcha. He hesitated, trying to get his mental feet under him. Ah.whyare you taking my class? With, ah, your degrees and all? It s not strange at all, John.Some of my courses at Berkeley wentinto the democratic peace as an idealistic alternative view to the realistemphasis on diplomacy and the balance of power, and in my course oninternational relations from Professor Schuman, I wrote a term paper onit.Then I heard a speech by the former Israeli Prime Minister BenjaminNetanyahu in which he emphasized the democratic peace.That stimu-lated my interest all over again.Here, it seemed, was a solution to warand what you call democide.Amazing.So, I wanted to know moreabout it.I talked to some professors in the area at the American Politi-cal Science Association meeting, including, it turned out, yourdissertation chairman at Yale.He was highly complimentary aboutyour dissertation, and said you would be teaching it here. So I asked my mother to investigate you.She is as interested as I amin the democratic peace.You passed her scrutiny, so I took time out frommy computer work, got an apartment here in Bloomington, and here I amin the office of the very person I wanted to hear lecture about it. Investigated? Jesus.He shook his head over that.But he wasn t in-sulted, or even shocked, as he would have been normally. You mustknow so much more about me than I do about you. Well, she said, giving him a beautiful smile, I ll have to changethat. Wow, he thought.Outside his window, daylight was fading, but he didn t want this toever end.He was more than smitten.He was overcome.But he liked somuch about her, was so comfortable around her, that he knew it wasn tlove at first sight.And it went beyond the familiarity that grew fromseeing her in class.It was like déjà vu, as though he had gone throughthis before and he was rediscovering his love.That couldn t be.Noway.But the feeling was, mysteriously, there. Would you like to join me for supper? We would have to eat in thecafeteria, which is the only legitimate place I can be seen with you.This is a college town, you know. John, I am an auditor, as I said.You are not grading me. Afraid of the grade I would have given you, eh? That lilt to her voice, her don t you dare contradict me way of as-serting something, and his reaction too comfortable, like a well-usedeasy chair. 246Rudy RummelHer eyes narrowed briefly and her lips tightened, then she looked athim askance before seeming to relax. I have never been afraid of anygrade I would get. Oops.Then she added, strangely, Are you afraid of the grade I will giveyou? John s response just came out without his thinking. I have neverbeen afraid of any grade I would get from a beautiful, intelligentwoman. She laughed. Does that include me? Don t know, do you. She hadn t accepted his invitation to supper yet.He just assumed it,and said, Let s eat. Since you re so sensitive about me being a student, you re wel-come to eat at my place.I m not a good cook, but I have pizza in thefreezer and beer in the refrigerator.I could sneak you in with a blanketover your head. Well now, that is very friendly of you, but the blanket might slipand I could be recognized.And then there is my moral reputation touphold.It would appear that I m sneaking into a student s apartmentfor immoral purposes, and then where would I be? Joy s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs, and she gawked at him.He added, Anyway, I don t go to a woman s place until the tenthdate.I keep track. He tried to keep his face straight, but he felt thedimple forming at the corner of his mouth.She looked into his eyes, then at his dimples, and finally studied hisoverly bland expression.And burst out laughing. I ll get you for that. She hesitated, obviously thinking of something
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