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"Me too," Moran said, yawning. "I can hardly keep my eyes open."
"Are you settled in all right?" Asked the President.
"Yes, thank you," replied Moran.
"If I haven't been seasick by now," said Larimer with a half grin, "I should keep my supper till morning."
They bin their good nights and disappeared together down the stairs to their staterooms. As soon as they were out of earshot, the President turned to Margolin.
"What do you think, Vince?"
"To be perfectly honest, sir, I think you're pissing up a rope."
"You're sa
ying it's hopeless?"
"Let's look at another side to this," Margolin began. "Your plan calls for buying surplus grain and other agricultural products to give to the Communist world for prices lower than our farmers could receive on the export market. Yet, thanks to poor weather conditions during the last two years and the inflationary spiral in diesel fuel costs, farms are going bankrupt at the highest rate since 1934. If you persist in handing out aid money, I respectfully suggest you do it here-not in Russia."
"Charity begins at home. is that it?"
"What better place? Also, you must consider the fact that you're rapidly losing party support-and getting murdered in the polls."
The President shook his head. "I can't remain mute while millions of men, women and children die of starvation."
"A noble stand, but hardly practical."
The President's features became shrouded with sadness. "Don't you see," he said, staring out over the dark waters of the river, "if we can show that Marxism has failed, no guerrilla movement anywhere in the world will be justified in using it as a battle cry for revolution."
"Which brings us to the final argument," said Margolin. "The Russians don't want our help. As you know, I've met with Foreign Minister Gromyko. He told me in no uncertain terms that if Congress should pass your aid program, any food shipments would be stopped at the borders."
"Still, we must try."
Margolin sighed softly to himself. Any argument was a waste of time. The President could not be moved.
"If you're tired," the President said, "please don't hesitate to go to bed. You don't have to stay awake just to keep me company."
"I'm not really in the mood for sleep."
"How about another brandy then?"
"Sounds good."
The President pressed a call button beside his chair and a figure in the white coat of a steward appeared on deck.
"Yes, Mr. President? What is your pleasure?"
"Please bring the Vice President and me another brandy."
"Yes, sir."
The steward turned to bring the order, but the President held up his hand.
"One moment."
"Sir?"
"You're not jack Klosner, the regular steward."
