She was reading a typed report while he took a midday swim, and then she slipped a dress on over her swimsuit at the same time as he changed into his homemade shorts, so they walked together from the beach up to what they called the Barracks.

It was an ugly new building with bedrooms for relatively low-status visitors such as themselves. They met with the other aides in the empty dining room, which smelled of boiled pork and cabbage.

This was a jockeying-for-position meeting ahead of next week’s Politburo. The purpose, as always, was to identify controversial issues and assess the support for one side or another. Then an aide could save his boss from the embarrassment of arguing in favor of a proposal that would be subsequently rejected.

Dimka went on the attack right away. “Why is the Defense Ministry so slow in sending arms to our comrades in Cuba?” he said. “Cuba is the only revolutionary state in the American continent. It is proof that Marxism applies all over the world, not just in the East.”

Dimka’s fondness for the Cuban revolution was more than ideological. He was thrilled by the bearded heroes with their combat fatigues and their cigars—such a contrast to the grim-faced Soviet leaders in their gray suits. Communism was supposed to be a joyous crusade to make a better world. Sometimes the Soviet Union was more like a medieval monastery where everyone had taken vows of poverty and obedience.

Yevgeny Filipov was aide to the defense minister, and he bristled. “Castro is not a true Marxist,” he said. “He ignores the correct line laid down by the Popular Socialist Party of Cuba.” The PSP was the pro-Moscow party. “He goes his own revisionist way.”

Communism was badly in need of revision, in Dimka’s opinion, but he did not say that. “The Cuban revolution is a massive blow to capitalist imperialism. We should support it if only because the Kennedy brothers so hate Castro!”

“Do they?” said Filipov. “I don’t know so much. The Bay of Pigs invasion happened a year ago. What have the Americans done since?”

“They have spurned Castro’s peace feelers.”

“True: the conservatives in Congress would not let Kennedy make a pact with Castro even if he wanted to. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to war.”

Dimka looked around the room at the assembled aides in their short-sleeved shirts and sandals. They were watching him and Filipov, discreetly remaining silent until they could tell who was going to win this gladiatorial contest. Dimka said: “We have to make sure the Cuban revolution is not overthrown. Comrade Khrushchev believes there will be another American invasion, this one better organized and more lavishly financed.”

“But where is your evidence?”

Dimka was defeated. He had been aggressive and done his best, but his position was weak. “We don’t have evidence either way,” he admitted. “We have to argue from probabilities.”

“Or we could delay arming Castro until the position becomes clearer.”

Around the table several people nodded agreement. Filipov had scored heavily against Dimka.