The Man

The young man’s directness and quick perception nudged Dilman’s interest in him. He attempted to smile back. “As a matter of fact, you are quite right, General.”

“I-while I can speak to you like this-there is something I wanted to say to you, sir. I’ve been reading about your trip around the United States. I’ve been following the debate in the House of Representatives on television. I’ve never been more ashamed of my fellow Americans, or their representatives, and I wanted you to know. I want you to know also, there are many of us who feel this has been rigged, blown up out of all proportion, and that you are being judged solely because of prejudice against your color. Maybe I’m out of line, but I had to tell you.”

Not in days had Dilman been so genuinely moved by the friendliness of another human being. His eyes moistened, and he averted his head. “I thank you,” he said, almost inaudibly. “I sincerely appreciate your understanding. I-in fact, I was impressed from the moment I arrived here-by the courtesy, an air of decency, such as I have not seen in four days.”

Jaskawich’s frank, open face had become intensely serious. “We are another breed here at Cape Ke

He stopped in mid-sentence. General Fortney and the Operations Director had walked back to join them again.

Fortney said to Dilman, “Had enough of this?”

Dilman smiled. “I find I like it up here. But I guess it’s time to get down to earth.”

In the elevator he studied General Leo Jaskawich with new interest. During an era already becoming jaded from continuous space exploits and achievements, Jaskawich was a special hero. He was the only astronaut to have been in orbit three times, once alone and then twice in the two-man Gemini capsule for six days. His physical aspect was deceptively average, in no proportion matching his legend. Dilman judged the astronaut to be perhaps five feet ten inches in height, and weighing around 160 pounds. His hair was short-cropped and sunblanched, his eyes quick and kind, his nose the most prominent feature on his swarthy Lithuanian face. He wore his uniform not as a martinet would, but with the confidence of one who had earned it through calculated and accepted risk. Not since Dilman had first met Nat Abrahams, and later The Judge and Tim Fla

After that, for the remainder of their ground tour about the heart of Cape Ke

The last stop before riding out to the beach was the horseshoe-shaped, one-story dormitory where the new astronauts, twelve in number, now training for the next Apollo flight, were supposed to reside while on the base.

As they examined the neat, furnished rooms, Jaskawich stated, “Ten of them live here, while their families live in Cocoa Beach.”

Some inconsistency joggled inside Dilman’s head. “Ten live here? I thought you said there were twelve in training.”

Before Jaskawich could reply, General Fortney brusquely intervened. “A couple of them preferred to stay in the old barracks. It’s the same as this. They’re doing special work that keeps them up later. Let’s move on.”

As he started away with the directors and public relations officers, Dilman held Jaskawich back. “Those other two, who are they? Why are they living separately?”

For the first time, Jaskawich appeared uneasy. “They are Negroes, sir,” he said.

“But I thought this place was-”

“I know, Mr. President,” Jaskawich said sadly. “When I spoke of a new breed of men that had grown out of this program, I meant the ones who had experienced orbital flight or been thoroughly indoctrinated for it. The new trainees are just groundlings, and while they are superior in some respects, they still carry the infection of groundling education and prejudices. Officially, like all military installations since 1951, this is a desegregated base, entirely so. But if two newcomers are made to feel-well-different, and know they’ll have more peace of mind for concentrating on their training if they can remove themselves from social abrasion, they do so, they volunteer. I don’t think our two colored astronauts give a damn. They’re too devoted to the work. That’s all that counts. Eventually, I promise you, the others will be inviting them back to this building.” He hesitated, and then added, “Even when done on a so-called voluntary basis, I didn’t back this segregation. I’m not ru

“Maybe he did,” said Dilman. “He knows what is going on here.”

“Dammit, I’m sorry, Mr. President.”

“You’ve done your best. Now I’ll do mine. You see that I have a memorandum waiting for me at the White House, reminding me to order that all the astronaut trainees on the Cape henceforth, whatever their wish or anyone else’s, live in the same quarters, receive the same food and teaching, without discrimination or favoritism. You can bet I’ll act on it.”

Jaskawich’s eyes were bright. “You’ll have that memo. Thank you, Mr. President.”

“To everyone else I may be a groundling, but you and I know, General, I’ve been up there and returned.” Dilman started to go, then had an afterthought and stopped. “Tell me, General Jaskawich, are you permanently assigned to Cape Ke

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you do here?”

“I’m supposed to teach,” he said, and then he gri