“ So what? Are those people worth dying for? Worth trillions of dollars? Worth making permanent nervous wrecks of all the children in America and a lot of grownups, besides, like your father?”
Charles considered the idea of his father as a “nervous wreck”; it was such an unfamiliar thought that it fascinated him. He chuckled. “I know how you feel, Aunt Ruth. After all, it’s why I have to spend time in service. But look. There’s one thing the Soviets have never offered—offered and meant it. That’s to let the world come in and inspect them and make sure they aren’t stockpiling mass-destruction weapons. Right?”
“They’ve offered, time and again, to inspect themselves! I don’t see why, for the sake of ending all this crazy strain, we can’t try having just that much confidence in them.”
“You’ve shown a marked lack of confidence in the American citizens who have turned out to be Communists.”
“That’s different!”
“Why?”
“When an American citizen goes Communist, it shows that person is a moral leper and utterly untrustworthy, through and through.”
“But the Kremlin, with the same beliefs, can be trusted?”
Charles had felt a twinge of anger at his aunt and met it with vehemence.
“Oh, hell, let’s not argue,” Jim said unhappily. “Have some more wine, Chuck.”