World War III

“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman, but what declaration are you making?”

“That the United States will have an uninterrupted flow of oil.”

“Surely, you’re not guaranteeing our own oil to us!”

“The Central Committee believes this to be… fair, Mr. President.”

“I don’t know what it was your Central Committee discussed at such length, but that offer isn’t any different from the original one. I expected some compromise, Mr. Chairman. What you’ve outlined is no more acceptable now than it was the first time you tried to palm it off on me.”

“Then nothing has changed?”

“Something’s changed, all right. Your Backfire bombers are a significant change, I would say.”

“I think the bombers are not a problem, Mr. President, believe me.”

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Chairman, I see that a little differently. Particularly since you are not in charge of the situation at your end. I see it very differently, as a matter of fact, which is why I have authorized the Strategic Air Command to take certain necessary steps. But don’t worry, they aren’t a problem.”

“You have alerted your B-52s?”

“Of course.”

“It is a very antagonistic move, Mr. President.”

“Antagonistic? You have invaded my country and to take appropriate defensive measures is antagonistic? Look, Gorny, you get your people off my land. Withdraw the unit and I’m sure we can negotiate this matter sensibly. But don’t push, Mr. Chairman. Don’t threaten me. You won’t solve anything, I can promise you that. The United States will not — not, Mr. Chairman— accept any terms or agree to any declaration while there are Soviet combat troops on its sovereign soil. I want to make that absolutely clear to you so you can explain it to your Central Committee. Do you understand, Mr.

Chairman?”

“Mr. President, I understand you only too well. Peace is the only imperative in this entire nasty business. I will present your views without delay to the Central Committee. I am sure arrangements will be made to bring the unit back. I will take your word that there will be no attempt to exploit this as a Soviet disaster.”

“You have my word.”

“And when the weather clears, your air force will not eliminate the unit?”

“It has been clear for the past hour, Mr. Chairman. They’re still in one piece. You have my assurance that they may withdraw peacefully. And you will guarantee that there will be no damage to the pipeline?”

“Of course. And your B-52s will return to their bases?”

“The moment I have evidence that the Backfires have changed course.”

“Then it will be done, Mr. President. I hope we will have the opportunity to meet again… under more agreeable circumstances.”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good day, Mr. President.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Chairman.”

McKenna replaced the special phone in its cradle. For several moments he said nothing. Then, without looking at anyone, he said, “I don’t believe him, I think Gorny was promising rainbows. I think he was speaking for himself, not for the ‘Central Committee.’ Rudenski is running it, I’m convinced of that, I felt as if I could hear him breathing down Gorny’s neck.” He glanced up at Farber. “Jules, I think they’re going to come in.”

“And if you’re wrong, Mr. President?”

McKenna stared at his hands. He remembered his special nightmare — the hospital, the doctor’s face, the guilt after the fantasy. You should have been there. You should have been there.

“Excuse me, Mr. President?”

McKenna looked up quickly. “No, ah, no. I…”

“The law says you must notify the Special Congressional Committee.” It was Secretary of Defense Alan Tennant, looking as if he might break down.

“We can’t wait that long,” General Olafson said. “Congress is in recess. God knows how long it’d take to find all of them. This is a national crisis, Mr. President. You have absolute authority as commander in chief. No one questions that.” The president glanced at Farber. The Oval Office was absolutely still. For once his national security advisor had no reply. “God forgive me,” McKenna whispered. He looked at Olafson… and nodded.

“How could you tell him that!” Rudenski said.

Gorny was the only one sitting at the conference table now. In his old chair. Rudenski was pacing, as usual. The rest of the committee stood about in pairs. Nervousness, Gorny thought. They know what’s coming and it terrifies them.

“You hadn’t the authority to speak for them! You cannot interfere!” Rudenski clasped his hands behind his back and conferred with Suloff a moment.

“It does not matter,” Gorny said, trying to catch the inflection Rudenski had used. “I don’t think McKenna believed me anyway.”

“I know you, comrade, and I didn’t believe you,” Rudenski said.

“He didn’t believe that you would turn the bombers back because I don’t believe you will. He believes you will go over the edge because I believe you will. It is difficult to lie, comrade General, when you know you cannot win whatever happens.” Rudenski stared at Gorny without expression. “I wouldn’t have, you know,” he said after a moment. “I really wouldn’t have.”