In High Places

by Arthur Hailey

  A few steps up the President had stopped. He said contritely, 'Do forgive me. I'm always forgetting, and doing that to people.'

  'I should have known better.' James Howden's heart was pounding; his heavy breathing punctuated the words. 'I expect it was your remark about the body personal.' Like everyone else he was aware of the President's lifelong passion for physical fitness in himself and those around him. A succession of White House aides, including dispirited generals and admirals, staggered exhausted from daily presidential sessions of handball, tennis, or badminton. A frequent complaint from the President's lips was that 'This generation has the bellies of Buddhas and shoulders like bloodhounds' ears.' It was the President, too, who had revived the Theodore Roosevelt pastime of taking country walks in straight lines, going over objects - trees, barns, haystacks - instead of around them. He had even attempted something of the kind in Washington and, remembering, Howden asked, 'How did those local forays of yours go - the A to B idea?'

  The other man chortled as they moved together, leisurely, up the stairs. 'I had to quit in the end; got into a few problems. We couldn't scramble over buildings here, except some small ones, so we started going through them wherever a straight line led. Got in some strange places too, including a toilet in the Pentagon - in the door and out the window.' He chuckled reminiscently. 'But one day my brother and I wound up in the Statler Hotel kitchens - walked in the cold room and short of blasting there was no way out.'

  Howden laughed. 'Perhaps we'll try it in Ottawa. There are some of the Opposition I'd like to see depart in straight lines -especially if they'd keep on going.'

  'Our opponents are sent to try us, Jim.'

  'I suppose so,' Howden said. 'But some try harder than others. By the way, I've brought some new rock samples for your collection. Our Mines and Resources people tell me they're unique.'

  'Well, thank you,' the President said. 'I'm really most grateful. And please thank your people too.'

  From the South Portico's shade they passed into the cool White House interior, then threaded a hallway and corridors to the presidential office on the building's southeast corner. Opening the white-painted single door, the President ushered How-den in.

  As usual, on the several occasions he had been here, the Prime Minister was conscious of the room's simplicity. Oval-shaped, with waist-high panelling and plain grey carpeting, its principal furnishings comprised a wide flat-topped desk, set centre, a padded swivel chair in the rear and, behind the chair, twin gold-trimmed banners - the Stars and Stripes and the President's personal flag. Floor-to-ceiling casement windows and a french door to a terrace outside faced a satin-damask sofa occupying most of one wall to the desk's right. At present the sofa was occupied by Arthur Lexington and Admiral Levin Rapoport, the latter a small, scrawny man in a neat brown suit, his hawklike face and incongruously large head seeming to dwarf the remainder of his body. The two men rose as the President and Prime Minister came in.

  'Good morning, Arthur,' the President said warmly, offering his hand to Lexington. 'Jim, you know Levin, of course.'

  'Yes,' Howden said, 'we've met. How are you. Admiral?'

  'Good morning.' Admiral Rapoport nodded curtly and coolly. He seldom did more, notoriously having no patience either for small talk or social functions. The admiral - presidential assistant extraordinaire -- had been a notable absentee from the previous evening's state banquet.

  As the four men sat down, a tray of drinks was whisked in by a Filipino manservant. Arthur Lexington chose scotch and water, the President a dry sherry. Admiral Rapoport shook his head in refusal and, before James Howden, the man smilingly placed a glass of iced grape juice.

  While the drinks were being served Howden watched the admiral covertly, recalling what he had heard of this man who (some said) was now virtually as powerful as the President himself.

  Four years earlier Captain Levin Rapoport, USN, had been a regular navy officer on the point of compulsory retirement -- compulsory because his superior admirals had twice passed him over for promotion despite a brilliant, highly-publicized career in pioneering underwater firing of intercontinental missiles. The trouble was that almost no one liked Levin Rapoport personally and a surprising number of influential superiors harboured feelings of active hatred. Mostly, the latter stemmed from a long-standing Rapoport habit of being dead right on every major issue affecting naval defence, and afterwards never hesitating to say 'I told you so', singling out by name those who had disagreed with him.

  Coupled with this was a massive personal conceit (entirely justified, but unpleasant nonetheless), grossly bad manners, impatience with 'channels' and red tape, and open contempt for those whom Captain Rapoport considered his intellectual inferiors, as most were.

  But what the higher navy brass had not foreseen in deciding to retire its controversial genius was the fierce outcry - from Congress and the public - at the prospect of the nation's loss if the Rapoport brain were no longer brooding actively upon its affairs. As one congressman put it succinctly, 'Goddam, we need the bastard.'

  Thereupon, prodded sharply both from the Senate and White House, the Navy had climbed down and promoted Cap-rain Rapoport to rear-admiral, thus avoiding his retirement. Two years and two ranks later, following a series of fresh brilliances, Rapoport (a full admiral by now and pricklier than ever) had been whisked by the President from the Navy's orbit to be presidential chief of staff. Within a few weeks, through zeal, speed, and sheer ability, the new appointee was exercising more direct power than predecessors like Harry Hopkins, Sherman Adams, or Ted Sorenson had ever enjoyed.

  Since then the list of directed achievements, known and unknown, had been formidable; a self-help overseas aid programme which, though late, was gaining America respect instead of contempt; at home, an agriculture policy which farmers fought savagely, claiming it wouldn't work, but (as Rapoport had said from the beginning would happen) it did; a crash research effort and, for long term, realignment of scientific education and pure research; and in law enforcement a crackdown on industrial fraud at one end of the scale and, at the other, a house-cleaning of labour, with Lufto, the once supreme labour hoodlum, ousted and jailed.

  Someone (James Howden recalled) had asked in a moment of intimacy with the President, 'if Rapoport's that good, why doesn't he have your job?'

  The President (it was said) had smiled benignly and answered, 'It's simply that I can get elected. Levin wouldn't receive six votes for dog catcher.'

  Along the way, while the President had been acclaimed for his shrewdness in choosing talent. Admiral Rapoport continued to attract animosity and hate in much the same proportion as before.

  James Howden wondered how this austere and harsh-minded man would affect Canada's destiny.

  'Before we go on,' the President said, 'I'd like to ask: have you been getting everything you need at Blair House?'

  Arthur Lexington replied smilingly, 'We're being cosseted with kindness.'

  'Well, I'm glad of that.' The President had settled himself comfortably behind the big desk. 'Sometimes we have a little trouble over the road there - like when the Arabs burned incense, and part of the house along with it. Though I guess you won't check under the panelling the way the Russians did, looking for concealed microphones.'

  'We'll promise not to,' Howden said, 'if you'll tell us where they are.'

  The President gave his throaty chuckle. 'You'd better cable the Kremlin. Anyway, I shouldn't be surprised if they slipped their own transmitter in while they were about it.'

  'That might not be such a bad arrangement,' Howden said easily. 'At least we'd get through to them. We don't seem to be doing much of a job by other means.'

  'No,' the President said quietly, 'I'm afraid we don't.'

  There was a sudden silence. Through a partially opened window the sound of traffic on B Street and children's cries from the White House playground, drifted in faintly. From somewhere close by, muted by intervening walls, a clack of typewriter keys could be sensed rather
than heard. Subtly, Howden realized, the atmosphere had changed from flippancy to deadly seriousness. Now he asked, 'For the record, Tyler, do you still hold the opinion that open major conflict, within a comparatively short time, has become inevitable?'

  'With all my heart and soul,' the President answered, 'I wish that I could say no. I can only tell you - yes.'

  'And we're not ready, are we?' It was Arthur Lexington, his cherubic face pensive.

  The President leaned forward. Behind him a breeze stirred the curtains and twin flags. 'No, gentlemen,' he said softly, 'we are not ready, and shall not be, until the United States and Canada, acting in the name of freedom and the hope of a better world we cling to, have manned, together, our single border and our common fortress.'

  Well, Howden thought, we've come to the point quickly. The eyes of the others upon him, he said matter-of-factly, 'I've given your proposal for an Act of Union a great deal of consideration, Tyler.'

  There was a ghost of a smile on the President's face. 'Yes, Jim; I imagined you would.'

  'There are many objections,' Howden said.

  'When something of this magnitude is involved' - the voice came quietly across the desk - 'it would be surprising if there were not.'

  'On the other hand,' Howden declared, 'I may tell you that my senior colleagues and I are aware of substantial advantages in what is proposed, but only if certain considerations are met and specific guarantees given.'

  'You talk of considerations and guarantees.' It was Admiral Rapoport, head thrust forward, speaking for the first time. His voice was taut and crisp. 'No doubt you, and the colleagues you refer to, have taken into account that any guarantee, from whatever source, would be useless without survival.'

  'Yes,' Arthur Lexington said, 'we've considered that.'

  The President interjected quickly, 'A point I'd like us to hold in mind, Jim - you, too, Arthur - is that time is against us. That's the reason I want us to move swiftly. It's also why we must speak plainly, even if we ruffle some feathers in the doing of it.'

  Howden smiled grimly. 'There'll be no ruffled feathers, unless they're on your eagle. What do you suggest first?'

  'I'd like to cover the ground again, Jim; that's what I'd like to do. Go over what we talked of last week by telephone. Let's be sure we understand each other. Then we'll see which way the compass points from there.'

  The Prime Minister glanced at Lexington who gave the slightest of nods. 'Very well,' Howden said. 'I'm agreeable to that. Will you be the one to begin?'

  'Yes, I will.' The President settled his broad-shouldered body in the swivel chair, half-turning from the others and towards the sunlight outside. Then he swung back, his eyes meeting Howden's.

  'I spoke of time,' the President said slowly. 'Time in which to prepare for the attack which we know inevitably must come.'

  From the sidelines Arthur Lexington asked quietly, 'How long do you think we have?'

  'There is no time,' the President answered. 'By reckoning, reason, logic, we've used it all. And if we do have time - for anything - it will be by God's good grace alone.' Softly: 'Are you a believer in God's good grace, Arthur?'

  'Well,' Lexington smiled, 'it's a nebulous kind of thing.'

  'But it's there, believe me.' Above the desk a hand rose, paw-like, fingers spread as if in benediction. 'It saved the British once when they stood alone, and it may yet save us. I'm praying that it will, and I'm praying for the gift of a year. There can't be any more.'

  Howden interjected, 'Three hundred days is what I'd hoped for myself.'

  The President nodded. 'If we get it, it will be from God.

  And whatever we get, tomorrow will be a day less, and an hour from now, an hour less.' The voice, with its Midwestern tone, quickened. 'So let us consider the picture as we in Washington see it now.'

  Point by point, with a master's instinct for order and summary, the brush strokes filled in. First the factors which Howden had described for his own Defence Committee: the primary protection of US food-producing areas - key to survival after nuclear attack; the bristling missile bases on the US-Canada border; the inevitability of missile intercept over Canada territory; Canada the battleground, defenceless, destroyed by explosion and fallout; its food areas poisoned ...

  Then the alternative: missile bases to the North, greater US striking power, early intercept with reduction of fallout over both countries, avoidance of the battleground, and a chance for survival. But the desperate need of speed, and authority for America to move quickly ... The Act of Union as proposed; total assumption of Canadian defence by the United States, and joint conduct of foreign affairs; disbandment of all Canadian armed forces and immediate re-recruitment under a joint Oath of Allegiance; abolition of border restrictions; customs union; the twenty-five-year term; a guarantee of Canadian sovereignty in all matters not proscribed...

  The President declared simply: 'In face of our common peril, which knows no border and respects no sovereignty, we offer the Act of Union in friendship, esteem, and honour.'

  Now there was a pause, the gaze of the small sturdy figure behind the desk ranging quizzically over the other three men. A hand went up to push back the familiar greying cowlick. The eyes beneath were wise and alert, James Howden thought, but behind them was an unmistakable sadness, the sadness perhaps of a man who has achieved so little of his lifetime's dream.

  It was Arthur Lexington who interposed quietly, 'Whatever the motives, Mr President, it isn't a slight matter to abandon independence and change the course of history overnight.'

  'Nevertheless,' the President observed, 'the course of history will change whether we direct its course or not. Borders are not immutable, Arthur; nor have they ever been in human history. Every border that we know will change or disappear in time, and so will our own and Canada's, whether we hasten the process or not. Nations may last a century or two, or even more; but in the end there's no forever.'

  'I agree with you. there.' Lexington smiled faintly. He put down the drink he had been holding. 'But will everyone else?'

  'No, not everyone.' The President shook his head. 'Patriots -- the ardent ones, at least - have short-term minds. But others - if it's put to them plainly - will face facts when they have to.'

  'Perhaps they may in time,' James Howden said. 'But as you point out, Tyler - and I agree - time is the one commodity we lack.'

  'In that case, Jim, I'd like to hear what you suggest.' The moment had come. This was the time, Howden thought, for plain, hard dealing. Here was the crucial point at which Canada's future - if one existed - would be determined. True, even if broad agreement were reached now, there would be more negotiating later on, and specifics - many specifics and infinite detail - would have to be hammered out by experts on both sides. But that would come afterwards. The big broad issues, the major concessions - if any were to be swung -would be determined here and now between the President and himself.

  It was quiet in the oval room. There were no longer noises of traffic or children outside - perhaps the wind had changed; and the typewriter had stopped. Arthur Lexington shifted position on the sofa; beside him Admiral Rapoport remained still - as he had from the beginning - as if lashed in place. The President's chair creaked as he swung it slightly, his eyes troubled and questioning across the desk, fixed on the Prime Minister's hawklike, brooding face. We are merely four men, Howden thought ... ordinary mortal men, of flesh and blood, who will die soon and be forgotten ... and yet, what we decide today will affect the world for centuries to come.

  For a moment, as the silence hung, James Howden's mind was torn with indecision. Now that reality had come, doubt -as earlier - assailed him. A sense of history wrestled with a sane appraisal of known facts. Was his presence here, by its very nature, a betrayal of his own country? Was practicality -which had brought him to Washington - a matter for shame and not a virtue? There were spectres he had already faced, fears he had allayed. But now they arose, fresh and challenging again.

  Then he reasoned,
as he had in the days past, that the course of human history had shown national pride - the inflexible kind - to be mankind's worst enemy, and ordinary people paid the price in suffering. Nations had gone down because of vainglory, when moderation might have civilized and saved them. Canada, he was determined, should not go down.

  'If this is to be done,' James Howden said, 'I shall need a mandate from our own voters. That means I must fight an election - and win.'

  'I'd expected that,' the President said. 'Will it be soon?'

  'Tentatively I'd say early June.'

  The other nodded. 'I don't see how you could do it faster.'

  'It will be a short campaign,' Howden pointed out, 'and we'll have strong opposition. Therefore I must have specific things to offer.'

  Arthur Lexington put in, 'I'm sure, Mr President, that as a practical politician yourself, you'll see how necessary that is.'

  The President grinned broadly. 'I'm almost afraid to agree for fear you fellows will hold me to ransom. So let me say: yes, I'm sure you'll get hell from your Opposition, but after all that's no novelty for any of us here. You'll win, though, Jim;

  I'm sure of it. But as to the other - yes, I do see.'

  'There are a number of points,' Howden said.

  The President leaned back in his swivel chair. 'Shoot! '

  'Canadian industry and employment must be safeguarded after the Act of Union.' Howden's voice was clear, his tone emphatic. He was no supplicant, he took pains to make clear, but an equal discussing equalities. 'United States investment and manufacturing in Canada must continue and expand. We don't want General Motors moving out because of customs union, consolidating with Detroit; or Ford with Dearborn. The same thing goes for smaller industry.'

  'I agree,' the President said. He toyed with a pencil upon the desk. 'Industrial weakness would be a disadvantage all round. Something can be worked out, and I'd say you'll get more industry, not less.'

  'A specific guarantee?'

  The President nodded. 'A specific guarantee. Our Commerce Department and your Trade and Finance people can devise a tax incentive formula.' Both Admiral Rapoport and Arthur Lexington were making notes on pads beside them.