Page 45 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

"Curious, isn't it?" she said. "He believes in freedom and democracy for German people in East Berlin, but not for American Negroes in the South."

George smiled. She was always combative. "It's not just about what he believes," he said. "It's what he can achieve."

She shrugged. "So how much difference can you make?"

"The Justice Department employs nine hundred and fifty lawyers. Before I arrived, only ten were black. Already I'm a ten percent improvement."

"So what have you achieved?"

"Justice is taking a tough line with the Interstate Commerce Commission. Bobby has asked them to ban segregation in the bus service."

"And what makes you think this ruling will be enforced any better than all the previous ones?"

"Not much, so far." George was frustrated, but he wanted to hide the full extent of that from Verena. "There's a guy called Dennis Wilson, a young white lawyer on Bobby's personal team, who sees me as a threat, and keeps me out of the really important meetings."

"How can he do that? You were hired by Robert Kennedy--doesn't he want your input?"

"I need to win Bobby's confidence."

"You're cosmetic," she said scornfully. "With you there, Bobby can tell the world he's got a Negro advising him on civil rights. He doesn't have to listen to you."

George feared she might be right, but he did not admit it. "That depends on me. I have to make him listen."

"Come to Atlanta," she said. "The job with Dr. King is still open."

George shook his head. "My career is here." He remembered what Maria had said, and repeated it. "Protesters can have a big impact but, in the end, it's governments that reshape the world."

"Some do, some don't," said Verena.

When they left, they found George's mother waiting in the hotel lobby. George had arranged to meet her here, but had not expected her to wait outside the restaurant. "Why didn't you join us?" he asked.

She ignored his question and spoke to Verena. "We met briefly at the Harvard commencement," she said. "How are you, Verena?" She was going out of her way to be polite, which was a sign, George knew, that she did not really like Verena.

George saw Verena to a taxi and kissed her cheek. "It was great to see you again," he said.

He and his mother went on foot, heading for the Justice Department. Jacky Jakes wanted to see where her son worked. George had arranged for her to visit on a quiet day, when Bobby Kennedy was at CIA headquarters at Langley, Virginia, seven or eight miles out of town.

Jacky had taken a day off work. She was dressed for the occasion in a hat and gloves, as if she were going to church. As they walked he said: "What do you think of Verena?"

"She's a beautiful girl," Jacky replied promptly.

"You'd like her politics," George said. "You and Khrushchev." He was exaggerating, but both Verena and Jacky were ultra-liberal. "She thinks the Cubans have the right to be Communists if they want."

"And so they do," Jacky said, proving his point.

"So what don't you like?"

"Nothing."

"Mom, we men aren't very intuitive, but I've been studying you all my life, and I know when you have reservations."

She smiled and touched his arm affectionately. "You're attracted to her, and I can see why. She's irresistible. I don't want to badmouth a girl you like, but . . ."

"But what?"

"It might be difficult to be married to Verena. I get the feeling she considers her own inclinations first, last, and in between."

"You think she's selfish."

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