Page 138 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

Volodya said: "Father, don't embarrass the poor girl."

"Embarrass? Rubbish. Nina and I are friends."

"Don't worry about that," said Katerina, who was now drunk. "She's already pregnant."

Volodya protested: "Mother!"

Katerina shrugged. "A woman can tell."

So that was why Grandmother looked Nina up and down so hard when we arrived, Dimka thought. He saw a glance pass between Volodya and Zoya: Volodya raised an eyebrow, Zoya gave a slight nod, and Volodya made a momentary "Oh!" with his mouth.

Anya looked shocked. She said to Nina: "But you told me . . ."

Dimka said: "I know. We thought Nina couldn't have children. But the doctors were wrong!"

Grigori raised yet another glass. "Hooray for wrong doctors! I want a boy, Nina--a great-grandson to carry on the Peshkov-Dvorkin line!"

Nina smiled. "I'll do my best, Grigori Sergeivitch."

Anya still looked troubled. "The doctors made a mistake?"

"You know doctors, they never adm

it to mistakes," said Nina. "They say it's a miracle."

"I just hope I live to see my great-grandchild," said Grigori. "Damn the Americans to hell." He drank.

Kotya, the sixteen-year-old boy, spoke up. "Why do the Americans have more missiles than we do?"

Zoya answered: "When we scientists began to work on nuclear energy, back in 1940, and we told the government that it could be used to create a super-powerful bomb, Stalin did not believe us. So the West got ahead of the USSR, and they're still ahead. That's what happens when governments don't listen to scientists."

Volodya added: "But don't repeat what your mother says when you go to school, okay?"

Anya said: "Who cares? Stalin killed half of us, now Khrushchev will kill the other half."

"Anya!" protested Volodya. "Not in front of the children!"

"I feel for Tanya," said Anya, ignoring her brother's remonstrances. "Over there in Cuba, waiting for the Americans to attack." She began to weep. "I wish I could have seen my pretty little girl again," she said, sudden tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just once more, before we die."

*

By Saturday morning the U.S. was ready to attack Cuba.

Larry Mawhinney gave George the details in the basement Situation Room at the White House. President Kennedy called this area a pigpen, because he found it cramped; but he had been raised in grand spacious homes: the suite was larger than George's apartment.

According to Mawhinney, the air force had five hundred seventy-six planes at five different bases ready for the air strike that would turn Cuba into a smoking wasteland. The army had mobilized one hundred fifty thousand troops for the invasion that would follow. The navy had twenty-six destroyers and three aircraft carriers circling the island nation. Mawhinney said all this proudly, as if it were his own personal achievement.

George thought Mawhinney was too glib. "None of that will be any use against nuclear missiles," George said.

"Fortunately, we have nukes of our own," Mawhinney replied.

Like that made everything all right.

"How do we fire them, exactly?" said George. "I mean, what does the president do, physically?"

"He has to call the Joint War Room at the Pentagon. His phone in the Oval Office has a red button that connects him instantly."

"And what would he say?"

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