Page 117 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

He strongly disapproved of Maria's lover. Even if the jerk was married he should have been here. He had made her pregnant, so he should have taken care of her after the abortion.

That voice . . . George had heard it before. Had he actually met Maria's lover? It would not be surprising, if the man was a work colleague, as George's mother surmised. But the voice on the phone was not Pierre Salinger's.

The girl who had let him in now walked by, on her way out again. She grinned at him standing outside the door like a naughty boy. "Have you been misbehaving in class?" she said.

"No such luck," said George.

She laughed and walked on.

Maria opened the door and he went back inside. "I really have to get back to work," he said.

"I know. You came to visit me in the middle of the Cuba crisis. I'll never forget that." She was visibly happier now that she had talked to her man.

Suddenly George had a flash of realization. "That voice!" he said. "On the phone."

"You recognized it?"

He was astonished. "Are you having an affair with Dave Powers?"

To George's consternation, Maria laughed out loud. "Please!" she said.

He saw right away how unlikely it was. Dave, the president's personal assistant, was a homely-looking man of about fifty who still wore a hat. He was not likely to win the heart of a beautiful and lively young woman.

A moment later, George realized who Maria was having an affair with.

"Oh, my God," he said, staring. He was astonished at what he had just figured out.

Maria said nothing.

"You're sleeping with President Kennedy," George said in amazement.

"Please don't tell!" she begged. "If you do, he'll leave me. Promise, please!"

"I promise," said George.

*

For the first time in his adult life, Dimka had done something truly, indisputably, shamefully wrong.

He was not married to Nina, but she expected him to be faithful, and he assumed she was faithful to him; so there was no question that he had betrayed her trust by spending the night with Natalya.

He had thought it might be the last night of his life but, since it had not been, the excuse seemed feeble.

He had not had sexual intercourse with Natalya, but that, too, was a lousy excuse. What they had done was, if anything, even more intimate and loving than regular sex. He felt wretchedly guilty. Never before had he seen himself as untrustworthy, dishonest, and unreliable.

His friend Valentin would probably handle this situation by cheerfully carrying on affairs with both women until he was found out. Dimka did not even consider that option. He felt bad enough after one night of deception: he could not possibly do it on a regular basis. He would end up throwing himself in the Moskva River.

He had to either tell Nina, or break up with her, or both. He could not live with such a mammoth deception. But he found that he was scared. This was ludicrous. He was Dmitri Ilich Dvorkin, hatchet man to Khrushchev, hated by some, feared by many. How could he be afraid of a girl? But he was.

And what about Natalya?

He had a hundred questions for Natalya. He wanted to know how she felt about her husband. Dimka knew nothing about him except his name, Nik. Was she getting divorced? If so, did the breakdown of the marriage have anything to do with Dimka? Most importantly, did Natalya see Dimka playing any role in her future?

He kept seeing her around the Kremlin, but there was no chance for them to be alone. The Presidium met three times on Tuesday--morning, afternoon, and evening--and the aides were even busier during the meal breaks. Each time Dimka looked at Natalya she seemed more wonderful. He was still wearing the suit he had slept in, as were all the men, but Natalya had changed into a dark-blue dress with a matching jacket that made her look both authoritative and alluring at the same time. Dimka had trouble concentrating on the meetings, even though their task was to prevent World War III. He would gaze at her, remember what they had done to one another, and look away in embarrassment; then, a minute later, he would stare at her again.

But the pace of work was so intense that he was not able to talk privately to her even for a few seconds.

Khrushchev went home to his own bed late on Tuesday night, so everyone else did the same. First thing on Wednesday, Dimka gave Khrushchev the glad news--hot from his sister in Cuba--that the Aleksandrovsk had docked safely at La Isabela. The rest of the day was equally busy. He saw Natalya constantly, but neither of them had a minute to spare.

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