Atlantis Gate

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“Some say the world will end in fire; some say in ice.” The voice was deep, resonant with power, echoing off the walls of the Oval Office. “From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to know that for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice.”

The act of speaking wore out the old man and his head slumped back on the chair’s high back. President Kennedy was behind his desk across from the old man. The hallway outside the closed door was full of advisers and Secret Service agents, everyone on edge given the current crisis with Cuba, but there was only the two of them in the room.

The old man’s voice lost some of its power as he continued. “The words. The words are the key.”

Kennedy leaned forward. “Did Kruschchev really say we were too liberal to fight, Mister Frost?”

Robert Frost’s deep blue eyes turned toward the President. “You’re not listening. No one listens.”

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