Page 137 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

Dimka had to be careful. He would be no use to Khrushchev drunk. He knocked back the vodka Grigori gave him, then put the glass down out of Grandfather's reach, to avoid a refill.

Dimka's mother was already there, helping Katerina. She came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of crackers with red caviar. Anya had not inherited Katerina's stylishness. She always looked comfortably dumpy, whatever she wore.

She kissed Nina.

The doorbell rang and Uncle Volodya came in with his family. He was forty-eight, and his close-cropped hair was now gray. He was in uniform: he might be called to duty at any moment. Aunt Zoya followed him, approaching fifty but still a pale Russian goddess. Behind her trailed their two teenagers, Dimka's cousins, Kotya and Galina.

Dimka introduced Nina. Both Volodya and Zoya greeted her warmly.

"Now we're all here!" said Katerina.

Dimka looked around: at the old couple who had started it all; at his plain mother and her handsome blue-eyed brother; at his beautiful aunt and his teenage cousins; and at the voluptuous redhead he was going to marry. This was his family. And it was the most precious part of everything that would be lost today if his fears came true. They all lived within a mile of the Kremlin. If the Americans fired their nuclear weapons at Moscow tonight, the people in this room would all be lying dead in the morning, their brains boiled, their bodies crushed, their skin burned black. And the only consolation was that he would not have to mourn them because he, too, would be dead.

They all drank to Grigori's birthday.

"I wish my little brother, Lev, could be with us," said Grigori.

"And Tanya," said Anya.

Volodya said: "Lev Peshkov is not so little anymore, Father. He's sixty-seven years old and a millionaire in America."

"I wonder if he has grandchildren in America."

"Not in America, no," said Volodya. Red Army Intelligence could find out this sort of thing easily, Dimka knew. "Lev's illegitimate son, Greg, the senator, is a bachelor. But his legitimate daughter, Daisy, who lives in London, has two adolescents, a boy and a girl, about the same age as Kotya and Galina."

"So, I'm a great-uncle to two British kids," Grigori said, musing in a pleased tone. "What are they called? Jane and Bill, perhaps." The others laughed at the odd sounds of the English names.

"David and Evie," said Volodya.

"You know, I was supposed to be the one to go to America," Grigori said. "But at the last minute I had to give my ticket to Lev." He went into a reminiscence. His family had heard the story before, but they listened again, happy to indulge him on his birthday.

After a moment, Volodya took Dimka aside and said: "How was this morning's Presidium?"

"They ordered Pliyev not to fire nuclear weapons without specific orders from the Kremlin."

Volodya grunted disparagingly. "Waste of time."

Dimka was surprised. "Why?"

"It will make no difference."

"Are you saying Pliyev will disobey orders?"

"I think any commander would. You haven't been in battle, have you?" Volodya gave Dimka a searching look with those intense blue eyes. "When you're under attack, fighting for your life, you defend yourself with any means that come to hand. It's visceral, you can't help it. If the Americans invade Cuba, our forces there will throw everything at them, regardless of orders from Moscow."

"Shit," said Dimka. All this morning's efforts had been wasted, if Volodya was right.

Grandfather's story wound down, and Nina touched Dimka's arm. "Now might be a good moment."

Dimka addressed the assembled family. "Now that we have honored my grandfather's birthday, I have an announcement. Quiet, please." He waited for the teenagers to stop talking. "I have asked Nina to marry me, and she has accepted."

They all cheered.

Another round of vodka was poured, but Dimka managed not to drink this one.

Anya kissed Dimka. "Well done, my son," she said. "She didn't want to get married--until she met you!"

"Maybe I'll have great-grandchildren soon!" said Grigori, and he winked broadly at Nina.

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