（外文电子版资料）Ben Bova - Cafe Coup.pdfVIP

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, /abclit.html Ben Bova The Cafe Coup The more things change, the more they stay the same. Or do they? Two time travelers will find out for themselves in the latest story from the prolific author of Mars, Brothers, and many other novels and works of nonfiction. Paris was not friendly to Americans in the soft springtime of 1922. The French didnt care much for the English, either, and they hated the victorious Germans, of course. I couldnt blame them very much. The Great War had been over for more than three years, yet Paris had still not recovered its gaiety, its light and color, despite the hordes of boisterous German tourists who spent so freely on the boulevards. More likely, because of them. I sat in one of the crowded sidewalk cafes beneath a splendid warm sun, waiting for my lovely wife to show up. Because of all the Germans, I was forced to share my minuscule round table with a tall, gaunt Frenchman who looked me over with suspicious eyes. You are an American? he asked, looking down his prominent nose at me. His accent was worse than mine, certainly not Parisian. No, I answered truthfully. Then I lied, Im from New Zealand. It was as far away in distance as my real birthplace was in time. Ah, he said with an exhalation of breath that was somewhere between a sigh and a snort. Your countrymen fought well at Gallipoli. Were you there? No, I said. I was too young. That apparently puzzled him. Obviously I was of an age to fight in the Great War. But in fact, I hadnt been born when the British Empire troops were decimated at Gallipoli. I hadnt been born in the twentieth century at all. Were you in the war? I asked needlessly. But certainly. To the very last moment I fought the Boche. It was a great tragedy. The Americans betrayed us, he muttered. My brows rose a few millimeters. He was quite tall for a Frenchman, but painfully thin. Half starved. Even his eyes looked hungry. The inflatio