Advise and Consent (97 page)

“Are these things suddenly turned to nothing in half an hour’s time?

“Are a few words from the moon sufficient to erase all we have stood for and all we are?

“Should we who have done so much, and have so much, and have yet before us such great tasks for ourselves and for all humankind, be struck dumb and paralyzed because we have been temporarily bested in our continuing contest with the Soviet Union?

“Does this suddenly cancel everything that America is?

“Mr. President,” he said quietly, “I cannot believe it. I know not how others feel, but I know how I feel.

“There are certain things in this life that are still valid, and will always be.

“There are ways of dealing with other people which are just and honest and honorable and decent; and these have not been changed.

“There are standards of character and of integrity which honorable men, while they may not always achieve them, at least have before them for their goal; and these have not been changed.

“There is human good will and loving-kindness and tolerance towards one’s fellow man in all his shortcomings, whatever they may be and bearing in mind one’s own; and these have not been changed.

“There is a great nation and a great people and a great mission of liberty and freedom and justice for all, coming out of the past and moving on gloriously into the future, insofar as God helps us to achieve it; and neither have these been changed.

“Nothing of the essentials of the human heart or the human character or the human story as good men see it have been changed.

“Senators,” he said softly, and in the utter silence there was a powerful emotion in his voice that powerfully moved them all, “I commend to you your country: a very great nation, which has a job to do.

“Let us get on with it!”

And he sat down, and for a moment the silence continued. Then the chamber burst into a roar of approving sound, and Senators began hurrying from all sides, to his desk to shake his hand, and the press rushed out to file their stories, and in the mind of the Vice President as he blew his nose and then tried rather futilely to gavel for order an idea began to grow.

A little later, as Senator Knox passed his desk, he took the first step toward putting it in operation.

“Orrin,” he said, shaking hands, “that was wonderful. Just wonderful.”

“Well, thank you, Harley,” Orrin said with a pleased smile. “I meant every word of it.”

“That was part of what made it wonderful,” the Vice President said. “I was just wondering if you would like to join me in my office at three-thirty? Howie has an appointment set up with me for Tashikov and Khaleel and Claude and Raoul, and I thought possibly you would like to sit in on it with me.”

Senator Knox looked very pleased.

“Why, Harley,” he said, “I’d be delighted to.” He chuckled. “Maybe we can set friend Vasily back on his heels a little.”

“I hope so,” the Vice President said, “because I’m quite sure he’ll be insufferable.”

But how insufferable they did not at that moment know, though a little later they could begin to suspect. For at 3 p.m. sharp further word came from Moscow. It was addressed to the President of the United States and broadcast in all languages; and so cold and forbidding was its tone that men lifted up a little by Orrin’s speech were once again cast down.

To the President it said tersely:

Excellency:

I have the honor to inform you that the premier of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the chairman of the central presidium of the Communist Party, U.S.S.R., together with other peoples’ representatives of the U.S.S.R., will arrive in Geneva at 1200 hours Saturday to confer with you and such representatives of the United States of America as you may wish to have with you.

We are sure you will understand the vital importance of this meeting to the future of the United States.

—Varanov

They were not, as the
Times
remarked with a sigh to the
Herald Tribune
, out of the woods yet.

In the Vice President’s office just off the floor half an hour later, however, one would never have known it, for neither he nor the Secretary of State nor the senior Senator from Illinois seemed anything but calm and unperturbed when their distinguished visitors were shown in. If anything it was the Ambassadors whose feelings were apparent, for Vasily Tashikov could not conceal an obvious air of triumph, K.K. looked white and worried, and even the British and French Ambassadors were in the grip of a concern they could not quite conceal. In this situation, Senator Knox and Secretary Sheppard noted with surprise and a growing respect neither had believed possible, that the Vice President acted as though he had been meeting crises all his life; either that, or perhaps had made up his mind finally that he was going to have to be meeting them from now on.

Whatever the reason, he stepped forward with a bland air and a firm handshake to greet each of them in turn, ignoring the Soviet Ambassador’s triumphant aspect and the worried looks of the others, gesturing them easily to chairs and then taking his own behind the big desk on which he had caused to be placed several manila folders bulging with papers. Through these he went for a last look while they waited, riffling through them slowly, shaking his head a little here, nodding it a little there, exclaiming softly once or twice to himself, while the silence lengthened and his visitors began to look decidedly fidgety. Finally with a deliberation that both Orrin and Howie applauded silently inside, he put the folders by and leaned forward with a cordial but appraising air.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said calmly, “what can I do for you? The Secretary tells me you wanted to see me.” He looked at them pleasantly and suddenly focused on the Soviet Ambassador. “Why?”

The abrupt challenge seemed to take Vasily Tashikov aback for a brief second, and he permitted himself an expression of surprise. Then he shrugged.

“It seemed a necessary courtesy,” he said. “We had not met and I thought it would be helpful to my country to know you.”

“I think that is nice,” the Vice President said, and his tone was so noncommittal that they could not tell what it held. “I wish,” he added gravely, “to congratulate your country upon its latest scientific achievement. It is a great triumph and a great inspiration to us.”

“How is that?” the Ambassador asked quickly. “As I understand your use of the expression ‘inspiration to us,’ it means that one is inspired to do the same thing.”

“That is very true,” Harley said.

“But did you not hear our broadcast?” the Ambassador asked sharply.

“I am sure everyone on earth, more or less, heard your broadcast,” the Vice President said.

“We said we would repel any invaders who attempted to land on the moon,” Tashikov said flatly. Senator Knox snorted.

“Did you hear about my speech?” he asked. The Ambassador shook his head, though they all knew he must have.

“I said go to hell,” Orrin said. “And,” he added, “you understand my use of the expression.”

The Russian Ambassador lost for a moment his air of careful calm and seemed about to make some sharp rejoinder. The Indian Ambassador held up a hand in nervous placation.

“Well, now,” he said quickly, “I do think that gentlemen should try to remain courteous and pleasant with one another when things are on this—this high level. My government does hope everyone will continue to deal with one another kindly and with a full awareness of all those things which—which hang in the balance.”

“Thank you, K.K.,” Senator Knox said dryly. “It is always good to have you around to keep everybody well mannered.”

“We have found,” Krishna Khaleel said with the same nervous politeness, “that sometimes good manners are a barrier against—other things.”

“They are,” Lord Maudulayne agreed, “if they are based upon good will. Whether they are in this instance, my government is not sure. Indeed, on the basis of the evidence we have received so far today, they are not.”

“What do you propose to do about it?” the Soviet Ambassador asked bluntly, and Claude Maudulayne shrugged.

“We propose to wait just a little longer, and see,” he said. “Although your kind invitation to Geneva did not include Her Majesty’s Government, I feel Her Majesty’s Government will not be entirely unconcerned with what may go on there.”

“If anything does,” Raoul Barre suggested. “If the Americans accept.”

“They will accept,” Vasily Tashikov said coldly. “They will accept if they are not utter fools.”

“Mr. Ambassador,” Harley said quietly, “you will speak with proper respect for the United States or you will leave my office at once.”

The Soviet Ambassador turned on his sudden smile that the press made so much of, the smile that hovered around the lips and never reached the eyes.

“Well, Excellency,” he said, “you know how it is when one has just won a great victory. One is sometimes a little ruthless toward the delicacies of diplomatic conduct. I would not wish to indicate that I did not respect the United States as a second-cla—As a power occupying the international status which she does occupy.”

“What would you people do,” Harley Hudson asked suddenly, “if I became President, recognized Red China, gave them a billion-dollar loan and started doing everything I could to divide the two of you?”

For just a second an expression of quite genuine alarm crossed the Soviet Ambassador’s face. It was followed quickly by another smile.

“Such precipitous action,” he said smoothly, “would hardly be characteristic of the great democracy which controls the free world.”

“Who knows?” the Vice President demanded, and he smiled too, looking like the amiable, easygoing Harley they had always known but with a sudden edge to him that was new to his friends. “Who knows,” he repeated softly, “what I would do if I were President of the United States? There isn’t a man in this entire world—perhaps I should say, now, entire universe—who knows what I would do, except the man who sits right here. So watch out, Mr. Ambassador. Watch out! The future might not be as simple as you think.”

Vasily Tashikov stared at him for several minutes until Harley, staring impassively back, made him lower his eyes.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We do not know. That is why my government wanted me to meet you, so that we might perhaps find out.”

“Well,” Harley said in a pleasant voice, “now that you’ve been given a little taste, I trust you will enjoy analyzing it.”

“You cannot bluff us!” Tashikov said in sudden anger, and Krishna Khaleel sucked in his breath with a sharp sound. The Secretary of State sat forward calmly.

“Nor you us, Mr. Tashikov,” he said quietly. “So there we are.”

“There you have always been!” the Indian Ambassador remarked brightly “Is it not so?”

The French Ambassador made a little gesture, one of those things that made people say, “So French!” because, of course, it was French.

“How many times,” he said, “has our dear colleague from the great subcontinent restored amicability and reason to heated discussions. How many times has that significant and commanding hisssss (and he prolonged it for a moment) brought us up short when passions were running away!
...
As for my government,” he said dryly, “we are impressed by the achievement of the Soviet Government, but we are no more afraid of her, and no more inclined to submit ourselves to her blackmail, than we were before. And that was not at all.”

“We are losing the subject of the visit,” the Soviet Ambassador said harshly. “We came here to talk to the President.”

“I’m not the President,” Harley Hudson said pleasantly, “but I know he feels the same way, and will tell the world so when he speaks tonight.”

“Do you not think, Mr. Vice President,” the Soviet Ambassador asked softly, “of the enormous and fearsome responsibilities which some fluke of fate or nature might put suddenly in your hands? Do you not wonder how you would deal with all these vast problems that confront your country as she tries without success to match the progress of the U.S.S.R.? Do you not feel some doubts about your abilities to handle them?”

“I certainly do,” Harley Hudson said with an agreeable laugh. “But,” he added, “many a man has become President feeling doubts about his ability to handle his problems. They’ve all managed somehow, some better than others but they’ve all done it, and we’ve gotten along. I dare say we would get along under me. What was your suggestion, Mr. Ambassador,” he asked suddenly, “that you be allowed to appoint a regent for me if the situation should arise?”

The Soviet Ambassador looked slightly off balance—in fact, Orrin thought with some admiration, Harley seemed to have kept him there pretty much all through the conversation—and made a gesture of protest and denial.

“Oh, of course, Mr. Vice President,” he said, “of course I do not suggest anything so fantastic. But these are serious times for your country. And now that the U.S.S.R. has achieved this great victory, they are even more serious.”

“Victories can be matched,” Harley said bluntly, and Senator Knox decided the President must have told him too, an unusual sign of confidence that made him wonder for a sharp second about the President’s own judgment of his health on this climactic day.

“Not always,” Vasily Tashikov said quietly. “No, Mr. Vice President, not always.”

“Well,” Harley said. “In any event. Obviously the United States is not frightened, so if that was the initial aim, it has failed.”

“Lack of fright can sometimes come from ignorance as well as bravery,” the Soviet Ambassador said sharply, and the three Americans started to react in unison so angrily that Lord Maudulayne decided it was time to speak up in his best drawl.

“I
say
, old boy!” he said, sounding as though the whole Commonwealth and Empire were suddenly looking down its collective nose at this little urchin before him. Raoul Barre came in on cue with a laugh to ease the tension.

“Good old Claude,” he said affectionately. “You know, I sometimes think that on the Day of Judgment, when the last bomb has fallen and the last trump has sounded, and our gracious friends in the Kremlin have finally had their way with civilization, and there are ten people left living on the earth—that suddenly one of them will speak up and he will say, ‘I
say
, old boy!’ in just that tone of voice. And automatically all the rest will feel inferior.”