Page 125 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

"When I was fifteen I wanted to, more than anything else in the world. But my father made damn sure it didn't happen. I had another chance, a decade later, but at that point I was old enough to see what a crazy idea it was. Listen, mixed-race couples have a hard enough time of it now, in the sixties. Imagine what it would have been like in the forties. All three of us would probably have been miserable." He looked sad. "Besides, I didn't have the guts--and that's the truth. Now tell me about the crisis."

With an effort, George turned his mind to the Cuban missiles. "An hour ago I was beginning to believe we might get through this--but now the president has ordered the navy to intercept a Soviet ship tomorrow morning." He told Greg about the Marucla.

Greg said: "If she's genuine, there should be no problem."

"Correct. Our people will go aboard and look at the cargo, then give out some candy bars and leave."

"Candy?"

"Each interception vessel has been allocated two hundred dollars for 'people-to-people materials'--that means candy, magazines, and cheap cigarette lighters."

"God bless America. But . . ."

"But if the crew are Soviet military and the cargo is nuclear warheads, the ship probably won't stop when requested. Then the shooting starts."

"I better let you get back to saving the world."

They got up and left the cafeteria. In the hall they shook hands again. Greg said: "The reason I came by . . ."

George waited.

"We may all die this weekend, and before we do there's something I want you to know."

"Okay." George wondered what the hell was coming.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Wow," George said quietly.

"I haven't been much of a father, and I wasn't kind to your mother, and . . . you know all that. But I'm proud of you, George. I don't deserve any credit, I know, but, my God, I'm proud." He had tears in his eyes.

George had had no idea Greg felt so strongly. He was stunned. He did not know what to say in response to such unexpected emotions. In the end he just said: "Thank you."

"Good-bye, George."

"Good-bye."

"God bless and keep you," said Greg, and he walked away.

*

Early Friday morning George went to the White House Situation Room.

President Kennedy had created this suite in the West Wing basement where previously there had been a bowling alley. Its ostensible purpose was to speed communications in a crisis. The truth was that Kennedy believed the military had kept information from him during the Bay of Pigs crisis, and he wanted to make sure they never got another chance to do that.

This morning the walls were covered with large-scale maps of Cuba and its sea approaches. The teletype machines chattered like cicadas on a warm night. Pentagon telegrams were copied here. The president could listen in to military communications. The quarantine operation was being run from a room in the Pentagon known as Navy Flag Plot, but radio conversations between that room and the ships could be overheard here.

The military hated the Situation Room.

George sat on an uncomfortable modern chair at a cheap dining table and listened. He was still mulling over last night's conversation with Greg. Had Greg expected George to throw his arms around him and cry: "Daddy!" Probably not. Greg seemed comfortable with his avuncular role. George had no wish to change that. At the age of twenty-six he could not suddenly start treating Greg like a regular father. All the same, George was kind of happy about what Greg had said. My father loves me, he thought; that can't be bad.

The USS Joseph P. Kennedy hailed the Marucla at dawn.

The Kennedy was a twenty-four-hundred-ton destroyer armed with eight missiles, an antisubmarine rocket launcher, six torpedo tubes, and twin five-inch gun mounts. It also had nuclear depth charge capability.

The Marucla immediately cut its engines, and George breathed easier.

The Kennedy lowered a boat and six men crossed to the Marucla. The sea was rough, but the crew of the Marucla obligingly threw a rope ladder over the side. All the same, the chop made it difficult to board. The officer in charge did not want to look ridiculous by falling in the water, but eventually he took a chance, leaped for the ladder, and boarded the ship. His men followed.

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