scoonts.theminotaur-第51节
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Toad looked up and down the hall for help； someone or something to rescue him。 No such luck。 He looked again at Rita； who was absorbing every twitch of his facial muscles。 〃Women my own age I don't understand。 Now it's true； I've picked up a smattering of experience here and there with the gentle sex； but eighty…year…old ladies with busted hips are pletely out of…〃
〃You can do it；〃 Rita said with simple； matter…of…fact faith； and grasping his hand； she led him back along the hallway。
In the room she nudged him toward the chair near Mrs。 Douglas。 He started to give Rita a glare； but when he realized Mrs。 Douglas was watching him； he changed it to a smile。 It came out as a silly； nervous smile。
Women！ If they didn't screw there'd be a bounty on 'em。
〃Rita says you're facing some very significant changes in your life。〃
The elderly woman nodded。 She was still chewing on her lip。 At that moment Toad forgot Rita and saw before him his own mother as she would be in a few years。 〃Pretty damned tough；〃 he said； meaning it。
〃My life now is my garden； the roses and bulbs and the annuals that I plant every spring。 I do my housework and spend my time watching the cycle of life in my garden。 I wasn't ready to give that up。〃
〃I see。〃
〃I have most of my things planted now。 The bulbs have been up for a month or so。 They were so pretty this spring。〃
〃I don't suppose any of us are ever ready to give up something we love。〃
〃I suppose not。 But I had hoped that I wouldn't have to。 My husband…he died fifteen years ago with a heart attack while he was playing golf。 He so loved golf。 I was hoping that someday in my garden I。。。〃 She closed her eyes。
When she opened them again Toad asked about her garden。 It was not large； he was told。 Very small； in fact。 But it was enough。 That was one of life's most important lessons； learning what was enough and what was too much。 Understanding what was sufficient 〃But；〃 Mrs。 Douglas sighed； 〃what is sufficient changes as you get older。 It's one thing for a child； another for an adult； another thing still when you reach my age。 I think as you age life gets simpler； more basic。〃
〃I'm curious；〃 said Toad Tarkington； feeling more than a little embarrassed。 He shot a hot glance at Rita。 〃Do you pray much？〃
〃Na。 It's too much like begging。 The professional prayers always want things they will never get； things they just can't have。 Like peace on earth and conversion of the sinners and cures for all die sick。 And to prove they really want all these things that can never be； they grovel and beg。〃
〃At least they're sincere；〃 Rita said。
〃Beggars always are；〃 Mrs。 Douglas shot back。 〃That's their one virtue。〃
Toad grinned。 Mrs。 Douglas appeared to be a fellow cynic； which he found quite agreeable。 Perhaps the age difference doesn't matter that much after all。 A few minutes later he asked one more question。 〃What will heaven be like； do you think？〃
〃A garden。 With roses and flowers of all kinds。 My heaven will be that anyway。 What yours will be； I don't know。〃 Mrs。 Douglas waggled a finger at him without lifting her hand from the bed。 〃You are two very nice young people； to spend time with an old woman to cheer her up。 When are you going to marry？〃
Toad laughed and stood。 〃You tell her； Mrs。 Douglas。 She absolutely refuses to bee an honest woman。〃 He said his goodbyes and Rita followed him into the hall。
〃Thanks。 That wasn't so hard； was it？〃…She had her arms folded across her chest
〃Hang tough； Rita。 If they let you take a hike tonight or tomorrow； give me a call at the BOQ。 Captain Grafton or I will e get you and bring you some clothes。〃
She nodded。 〃You e if you can。〃
〃Sure。〃 He paused。 〃What do you want from life； Rita？ What will be sufficient？〃
She shook her head。 He winked and walked away。
16
In an era when the average American male stood almost six feet tall； Secretary of Defense Royce Caplinger towered just five feet six inches in his custom…made shoes with two…inch heels。 Perhaps understandably； his hero and role model was Douglas MacArthur； of whom he had written a biography ten years before。 The critics had savaged it and the post…Vietnam public had ignored it。 Caplinger； said one wag； would have won MacArthur sainthood had the book been even half true。
How deeply this experience hurt Caplinger only his family might have known。 The world was allowed to see only the merciless efficiency and detached intellect that had made him a millionaire by the time he was thirty and president and CEO of one of the twenty largest industrial panies in the nation when he was forty…two。 Now worth in excess of a hundred million dollars； he was a man who believed in himself with a maniacal faith； in the world of titanic egos in which he moved he saw himself as a giant and； to his credit； others saw him the same way。
Rude and abrasive； Caplinger never forgot or forgave。 He had never been accused of possessing a sense of humor。 He won many more battles than he lost because he was right； often terrifically right； as his many enemies freely acknowledged。 He often won when he was wrong too； because he could play major…league hardball with the best of them。 Years ago his subordinates had labeled him 〃the cannibal；〃 whispering that he liked the taste of raw flesh。
Caplinger had the brain of Caesar and the soul of a lizard； all housed in the body of a chimpanzee； or so one of his more daring victims had groused to Time magazine。 This quote crossed Jake Grafton's mind just now as he watched the secretary's gaze dart back and forth across the faces of the men at the luncheon table as they were served pear halves in china dishes bearing the seal of the Navy Department by a steward in a white jacket。
Jake was back in Washington for a week while the China Lake crowd fixed their A…6； Rita Moravia recovered； and Samuel Dodgers tinkered with the Athena device。 This was Jake's first meal in the Secretary of the Navy's dining/conference room； so today he was playing tourist and taking it all in。
The room was spacious and paneled with dark wood； perhaps mahogany。 Deep…blue drapes dressed up the windows。 A half dozen oil paintings of sailing ships and battles； with little spotlights to show them to advantage； were arranged strategically between the windows and doors。 Gleaming brass bric…a…brac provided the accents。 Sort of early New York Yacht Club； Jake decided； a nineteenth…century vision of a great place for railroad pirates and coal barons to socialize over whiskey with nautical small talk about spankers and jibs and their latest weekend sail to Newport。 He would describe the room for Callie this evening。 He sipped his sugarless iced tea and turned his attention to the conversation。
In keeping with his temperament； Caplinger was doing the talking： 〃。。。the Congress has ceased to exist as a viable legislative body since Watergate。 They can't even manage to give senior leaders or the judiciary a pay raise without making a hash of it。 Without strong； capable leaders； Congress is a collection of mediocrities drifting。。。〃
Jake used his knife to slice the fruit in his dish； two whole halves； to make it go further。 Already he suspected this wasn't going to be much of a meal。
At the opposite end of the table from the Secretary of Defense sat today's host。 Secretary of the Navy George Ludlow。 He was nibbling at pieces of pear he nicked off with his fork and listening to Caplinger。 No doubt he was used to these monologues； he had married Caplinger's second daughter； a modestly pretty young woman with a smile that looked vacuous in news photos。 Jake Grafton had never met her and probably never would。
〃。。。five hundred thirty…five ants on a soapbox drifting down the Potomac； each of them thinking he's steering。〃 Caplinger chuckled and everyone else smiled politely。 Jake had heard that old show before。
Across the long table from Jake sat Tyler Henry； Under Secretary of Defense for Acquisition Russell Queen； and the Chief of Naval Operations； Admiral Jerome Nathan Lanham。
Lanham was a submariner； a nuke； with all the baggage that term implies： team player； risk minimizer； technocrat par excellence in the service of the nuclear genie。 His patron saint was Hyman Rickover； the father of the nuclear navy； whose portrait hung in Lanham's office。 Like Rickover； Jerome Nathan Lanham was reputed to have little use for nonengineers。 Just now he sat regarding Jake Grafton； A。B。 in history； with raised eyebrows。
Jake nodded politely and speared another tiny hunk of pear。 The dish was half full of juice。 He wondered if he should go after it with a spoon and surveyed the table to see if anyone else was。 Nope。 Well； hell。 He used the spoon anyway； trying to be discreet； as Caplinger ruminated upon the current political situation in Japan and the steward began serving a tiny garden salad。 〃。。。wanted to hang Hirohito after the war； but MacArthur said no； which was genius。 The Japanese would never have forgiven us。〃
〃If we conquered Iran today； what would you do with Khomeini？〃 Helmet Fritsche； seated to Jake's right； asked the question of Caplinger； who grinned broadly。
〃Such a tiny hypothetical…he should have been a lawyer；〃 Ludlow muttered sotto voce as the others lau
