“You intrigue me, Mathieu,” said Novak. “But we both know the rules of bureaucratic inertia. You tell me you envy and admire the extraordinary effectiveness of the Liberty Foundation, and I thank you for the kind words. But there’s a reason for our record: the fact that I have always retained absolute, top-to-bottom control of it.”

“I am deeply aware of that fact,” said the secretary-general. “And when I speak of ‘partnerships,’ I need you to understand my meaning. ‘Strategic ambiguity,’ as you call it, is something my role at the United Nations often requires. But on one issue there can be no ambiguity. Ultimate control would be exercised by you, Peter.”

There was a long moment of silence, and Zinsou briefly wondered whether Novak’s phone had gone dead. Then the man spoke again. “You are indeed a man of vision. It’s always nice to meet another one.”

“It is a grave, an immense responsibility. Are you prepared for it?” Zinsou did not wait for an answer but continued to speak, with passion, eloquence, and urgency, elaborating on his vision.

Twenty minutes later, the man who called himself Peter Novak maintained an odd reticence.

“We have so much to discuss,” Zinsou said, winding up. “So much that can only be discussed face-to-face, just you and me, together. Perhaps it is grandiose of me to say it, but I truly believe the world is depending on us.”

At last, a mirthless laugh came from the phone: “Sounds like you’re offering to sell me the United Nations.”

“I hope I didn’t say that!” Zinsou exclaimed lightly. “It is a treasure beyond price. But yes, I think we understand each other.”

“And in the short term, my Liberty Foundation people would have ambassadorial rank, diplomatic immunity?”

“The U.N. is like a corporation with a hundred and sixty-nine CEOs. Nimble it is not. But yes, the charter I’ll draft will make that quite clear,” answered the secretary-general.

“And what about you, mon cher Mathieu? You’ll be serving out your second term—and then what?” The voice on the phone grew friendly. “You have served your organization selflessly for so many years.”

“You’re kind to say so,” the secretary-general said, catching his drift. “The personal element is an entirely subsidiary one, you appreciate. My real concerns are for the survival of this institution. But, yes, I will be frank. The U.N. job does not exactly pay well. A job as, let us say, a director of a new Liberty Foundation institute … obviously with the salary and benefits to be negotiated … would be the ideal way to continue my work for international peace. Forgive me for being so forward. The complexity of what I propose makes it imperative that we be absolutely straightforward with each other.”

“I believe I’m coming to a better understanding, and find it all very encouraging,” said the man who was Peter Novak, now sounding positively genial.