The foyer is larger than one might have expected from the outside. Tall windows, a polished stone floor, dark wood, steel beams beneath glass, interspersed with strings of lights that make everything look both festive and a little worn. The place doesn’t look renovated, but rather hastily spruced up for the evening.
A string quartet plays something that is meant to sound like culture but in truth reeks of a sponsors’ budget.
Waiters balance trays of champagne, tea and small canapés through the crowd. Young people in oversized jackets and ill-fitting dresses stand too close to walls and door frames, as if afraid of soiling something that doesn’t belong to them with their shoes. In between them are regional dignitaries, former sporting greats, local businesswomen, ladies with old jewellery and men who move with such grace as if their memories, too, were still tailored from finer fabrics.
Mulder and Scully follow Jennifer and Jonathan across the room.
JONATHAN
If you’re wondering why this looks like a diplomatic reception in an ice rink: that’s because every year, this provincial town in the mountains tries to be Vienna, Geneva and Monte Carlo all at once for one evening.
SCULLY
And does it succeed?
JONATHAN
Surprisingly often, right up to dessert.
Jennifer glides past a lady who greets her by name as she passes, nods to an elderly gentleman and, at the same time, directs a waiter with a small flick of her finger so that he doesn’t bump into a school class of freshly spruced-up young players.
JENNIFER
Jonathan likes to think of evenings like this as improvisation. In truth, they’re purely a logistical problem with a bit of glitz. And I offered to help the rustic mayoress as hostess after she allowed my Jonathan to put at least sparkling wine, tea and coffee on the drinks list instead of cheap Coca-Cola punch. And to pay for them.
MULDER
Potential for culinary disasters?
Jennifer gives him a quick glance.
JENNIFER
Yes. That’s why such major rural events are interesting. But you’ll be amazed at the international mix gathered here today, despite the remoteness. Come along!
They reach the edge of the main hall.
The ice rink lies bathed in cold light, smooth and almost unreal. Hanging above it are the flags of the four nations: France, Great Britain, the Soviet Union, the United States. A large banner stretches across the steel girders:
INTERNATIONAL CHARITY TOURNAMENT FOR HOCKEY SCHOLARSHIPS
LAST WINTER IN THE OLD HALL
At the edge of the ice stands a podium with microphones, artificial flower arrangements, a row of chairs and a group of young scholarship recipients trying not to look intimidated.
On the opposite side, the teams are gathering in dark suits and team coats.
Scully pauses for a moment.
SCULLY
This is bigger than I expected.
MULDER
That’s always a bad sign.
SCULLY
We’re still only here for the coffee.
MULDER
Of course.
Jonathan follows Mulder’s gaze to the teams.
JONATHAN
Over there are our sporting protagonists. France, Britain, the Soviet Union and the United States. All very civilised, as long as no one puts on skates.
SCULLY
And if they do?
JONATHAN
Then a nation’s true nature usually comes to light faster than foreign ministries would like.
Jennifer takes two glasses from a passing tray, hands one to Scully, the other to Mulder.
JENNIFER
Before Jonathan starts explaining international relations through sports systems: France plays more beautifully, Great Britain suffers more gracefully, the Soviet Union more controlled, and the US more loudly.
MULDER
That sounds surprisingly empirical.
JENNIFER
No. Only after many charity events.
A soft tap on the microphone drowns out the murmur of voices. The conversations in the room slowly die down.
Jennifer looks towards the stage.
JENNIFER
That’s my cue.
Jonathan takes a deep breath, smooths his tie with the gesture of a man who regards public appearances as a mixture of sport and marital duty.
JONATHAN
Please give us a warm welcome!
SCULLY
I thought you had Jennifer for that.
JONATHAN
Exactly.
He offers his arm to his wife. Jennifer takes it only for the three steps to the podium, then she steps away and moves to the microphone.
The hall grows quieter. Not completely, but enough that every cough, every clink of a glass and every movement suddenly takes on significance.
Jennifer lets her gaze sweep over the ice, the stands and the guests.
JENNIFER
Ladies and gentlemen – welcome on behalf of Mayor Henriette Harrisson, who is unfortunately at home with a migraine. Promise me you’ll leave at least a salmon sandwich and a cup of tea for our dear Henriette. The fact that on an evening like this you’d rather be sitting here in a seventy-year-old ice rink than in a properly heated lounge speaks either to your sense of community or to a remarkably sentimental penchant for architecturally sophisticated farewells.
A warm laugh ripples through the room.
JENNIFER
Unfortunately, this hall is due to be demolished next summer. That alone would be cause for crocodile tears, insincere speeches and far too many people suddenly claiming to have been particularly happy here at some point. We have decided to do something more useful instead.
Jonathan steps up beside her and takes the second microphone.
JONATHAN
For example, raising money. As is well known in well-bred circles, this is the most elegant form of practical morality. And it is the foundation upon which something entirely new is to grow here. A place for international encounters and open-discourse democracy education, financed by donations from those who have always profited from the spread of democracy.
Laughter again, this time a little heartier.
JENNIFER
And giving young ice hockey players opportunities that start with talent and don’t end with their families’ bank balances.
She gestures towards the young people at the edge of the podium. The applause is half-hearted.
JENNIFER
Today’s tournament will fund one hundred and forty-four international exchange scholarships next year for young hockey players who have talent but lack the means to make something of it without help.
JONATHAN
And because good intentions alone rarely keep spectators engaged, we have asked the four most important nations in the world to compete against each other on the ice in a controlled yet ambitious manner.
A murmur ripples through the hall; now everyone is looking at the teams.
JENNIFER
France.
Part of the audience applauds. The French team, almost as one, bows their heads slightly, as if even approval were a matter of form.
JENNIFER
Great Britain.
British applause sounds the same in every language: proper, brief, stoic.
JENNIFER
Soviet Union.
The Russian team remains disciplined and silent, but their presence alone serves as an answer.
JENNIFER
And the United States.
Here the applause grows louder. Jonathan acts as though this were a force of nature and not, in part, his own very American flair for hosting.
Mulder and Scully stand slightly to one side in the semi-shade of the foyer, watching the teams.
Shane stands with the Americans with a composure that borders on arrogance. Too photogenic to go unnoticed, and clever enough to pretend it bothers him.
With the Russians, Ilya stands almost motionless. Not hiding. More like someone who doesn’t seek attention because it comes to him anyway.
Mulder is the first to notice the aggressive exchange of glances. No open stare, just the brief, appraising glance of two men who know exactly where the other is in the room.
MULDER
There.
SCULLY
What?
MULDER
Those two.
Scully follows his gaze.
SCULLY
Rivalry.
MULDER
More than that. A re-enactment of a Third World War – on the ice.
SCULLY
Mulder, we’ve been here for seven minutes.
MULDER
Sometimes seven seconds are enough.
On the podium, Jonathan continues.
JONATHAN
We would also like to thank our generous patron, without whom neither this gala nor the tournament featuring precisely these four youth teams, nor the scholarships, would be possible in their current form today. Walter Franklin, the renowned entrepreneur, conservationist and sponsor!
He turns slightly towards the front row of guests of honour.
An elderly man stands up. Tall, silver-haired, wearing a well-cut but overly old-fashioned evening jacket, with the bearing of a man who has spent his whole life mindful of how a room perceives him. He does not look like a provincial sponsor, but rather like someone who, over decades, has learnt to conduct himself everywhere as if at least the better half of history belonged to him.
The applause is respectful. Not warm. Not cold. Just practised.
He nods slightly, but remains in his seat, as if he would rather measure out his grandeur than display it.
JENNIFER
And now to the real reasons why you are all here today: the match, the competition, and that rare moment when grown men are allowed to be patriotic enough to be praised for it.
Laughter.
JENNIFER
But before we begin, I would like to introduce our guests of honour among the players.
JENNIFER
For France: Luc.
Applause. Moreau steps half a step forward. Elegant bearing, upright reserve, a face that, even at rest, looks as though it is keeping its reactions under conscious control.
JENNIFER
For Great Britain: Daniel.
Mercer steps forward just as briefly. Taller, more angular, with that smooth composure that often looks, on the faces of British men, as though it had been drilled into them at boarding school.
JENNIFER
For the Soviet Union: Ilya.
Rozanov steps forward, and although he does nothing more than stand, the atmosphere in the room shifts. Not any more intense. Just denser.
JENNIFER
And for our United States: Shane.
The audience reacts audibly more strongly. Shane takes it with an almost insolent lack of humility.
Jonathan, incidentally at the second microphone:
JONATHAN
Incidentally, you can tell very clearly which names dominate the regional sports pages.
Jennifer ignores this with the experience of a professional wife.
JENNIFER
Hockey thrives on pace, toughness and competition. But no sport is worth anything if the people on the ice don’t also know when rivalry must give way to responsibility.
Mulder takes note of the sentence. Scully does too.
Philanthrop watches the line-up of captains attentively from the edge of the podium. His face remains friendly enough, but for a moment there is something harder around his eyes. Something that doesn’t quite keep pace with the tone of the gala.
Mulder sees it.
MULDER
The man out there is smiling as if, over the course of his life, he’s given many people reasons not to.
SCULLY
That’s not a particularly robust diagnosis.
MULDER
No. Just an aesthetic one.
JENNIFER
Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the evening, spend far too much money, and at least behave with dignity until the first face-off.
Applause. The music starts up again. Immediately, the orderly silence dissolves into conversation, clinking glasses, movement and the bustling restlessness of an evening that is, officially, still festive.
Jonathan leans towards the microphone as if he cannot help himself.
JONATHAN
And in case anyone asks: no, we deliberately scheduled the sporting part after the donations. Experience shows that generosity is much easier to elicit from people before national vanities start to stir. Eat croissants so crisp as if they’d been baked in Paris itself last week. Drink beer that tastes as if Queen Victoria had tapped it personally, and enjoy caviar from the Soviet Union, as cold as the ice beneath the ice hockey players’ feet.
Laughter again.
Mulder looks back at the podium, at the philanthropist, at the four captains, at the Harts in the spotlight, at the ice behind them, which now lies there like a pristine surface just waiting to be sullied.
MULDER
Scully.
SCULLY
No.
MULDER
I just wanted to say that this probably isn’t going to be a harmless coffee evening anymore.
SCULLY
You knew that the moment we saw the first press van.
MULDER
Yes.
SCULLY
And?
She finally takes a sip from her cup.
SCULLY
The Russian tea is better than expected, at least.
Mulder smiles. Then he looks out onto the ice again.
Between the teams, helpers begin checking the final markings. Lights reflect off the surface, as if beneath the cold sheen lay more of the past than this rink should reveal in a single farewell night.