'The Joint Chiefs know of this proposal?' Burdovsky said incredulously.
'Yes.'
'But not your government?'
'No.'
Burdovsky placed his cigar carefully in an ashtray and looked at it for several moments. 'How can you be sure your government will grant approval of such a scheme?' He raised his eyes. 'Is it possible?'
'As of now--this minute--the answer is no. Which is why we need your cooperation.' Madden held his left hand, palm uppermost, flat in front of him and pressed back the index finger. 'The depletion problem is worsening year by year. Right now both our governments are unwilling to face up to the facts of the situation. But very soon they'll have no choice.' He pressed back the middle finger. 'When they have to face it they're going to want a solution pretty desperately. One that's quick and effective.' He pressed back the ring finger. 'That's the moment to put forward our proposal. Speaking for my government I know they'll react negatively to the idea--I can hear the bleats of the liberals and humanitarians already.' He pressed back the little finger. 'Then we play our trump card. We tell our government that the USSR is already in the process of implementing an identical scheme. You tell your government the same thing about us.'
Madden curled his right hand into a fist, which he smacked firmly into his left palm. 'That leaves both governments no way out, Colonel. The only feasible course will be to reach an agreement whereby our two nations act in unison to implement the plan. There will be no alternative if they wish to survive.'
'An agreement which already exists. Secretly,' mused Burdovsky.
'At the military level. Not politically.'
'I understand now why you insisted that this meeting take place under such ridiculous and uncomfortable circumstances,' said Burdov-sky with a faint smile. 'The usual diplomatic channels would be out of the question.'
'And extremely stupid,' Madden remarked.
'You realize, of course, that I can make no immediate response. Until 1 have reported to my superiors and the proposal has been discussed.'
'I didn't expect one,' Madden said briskly, looking at his watch.
Lieutenant-Colonel Salazkin had a question. His voice was nasal and high-pitched. 'You predict that climatic conditions will become very bad--much worse--in ten to fifteen years. If that is so, why not let depletion do the work of extermination? People will die in any case.'
'Unfortunately not fast enough or in sufficient numbers,' Madden replied promptly. 'And in the meantime they're using up the available stock of oxygen that the rest of us need in order to survive. The equation is very simple: us or them.'
Colonel Burdovsky was gazing at Madden as if at a rare and dangerous species of jungle animal. He said, 'I must tell you, Colonel Madden, that never in my lifetime have I heard of an idea so fantastic. To exterminate three quarters of the human race.' He breathed gustily. 'Incredible.'
'But entirely necessary,' said Madden blandly. 'As I'm sure you'll agree.'
'How is this plan to be implemented?' asked Major Ivolgin. 'You have a method?'
'Several.' A playfully sly expression came into Madden's eyes. 'One might be to utilize our beam-weapon space platforms on a joint basis and put them to some practical use instead of floating around up there playing catch-as-catch-can. A return on all those billions of dollars and rubles we've invested, so far to no purpose.'
'Perhaps,' Burdovsky conceded cautiously.
'However, the final choice will have to be decided at a senior scientific level,' Madden went on briskly. 'And with utmost secrecy. Major Jones here has come up with a code name. He suggests 'Longfellow.' The major is a student of poetry,' Madden added dryly.
'I know of the poet Longfellow,' Burdovsky said. 'But I do not see
'What's the piece, Major?' Madden prompted.
Major Jones straightened up and recited solemnly:
'Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years Is hanging breathless on thy fate!'
'From a poem entitled The Building of the Ship,' ' he informed them.
'This will be a tremendous scientific challenge, gentlemen,' Madden said. 'Perhaps the greatest since the invention of the atomic bomb!'
Colonel Burdovsky nodded slowly, reminded of something.
'You spoke of getting near the ball, Colonel. But you did not say the ball is a time bomb that might explode in our faces.'
17
WASHINGTON--CHICAGO--KANSAS CITY
Everywhere they went there were questions. The same questions over and over again.
Why hadn't Chase spoken out about the U.S. government's indolence in enforcing environmental legislation?
Was it true that the Russians had abandoned Project Arrow?
What about the Australian big drought situation?
When was Earth Foundation going to move into the political arena?
What were his views on the pyro-assassinations? Who did he think was behind them, and why?
What were conditions really like in the south? As bad as had been reported?
This last question was top of the list and uppermost in most people's minds. The mounting concern was brought home to them when their cab from the airport to the hotel was held up by a demonstration. A procession of several hundred people bearing placards with the slogans
OKIES NOT OK HERE and KEEP KANSAS KLEAN--KILL A TEXAN TODAY.
It was in protest against the migration from the south, the cabdriver told them, which over the past fourteen months had swelled from a trickle to a flood. The Federal Resettlement Program wasn't able to cope with the problem. Citizens' militia groups had set up roadblocks along the southern state line to stop the 'illegals' spreading north.
ACROSS THE PLAINS TO NEBRASKA
There was a small Earth Foundation community on the shores of Lake McConaughy. Since the shift in climatic patterns the temperature for late September was an appreciable ten degrees F. warmer than usual. Many people were taking a late vacation--boating, fishing, water-skiing, and swimming along the banks of the North Platte.
Dan couldn't get over it. Never before had he seen people bathing in inland 'fresh' water. And the fish being caught were edible!
They sat under a striped awning and watched him splash about, his body flashing in the sunlight. In pleasant contrast to the sultry south and muggy Washington, the climate was mild and the air was clear and refreshing. Chase became wistful, seeing his son's face losing its soft boyish roundness, his features hardening and becoming more defined as the genetic template molded them into adulthood.
What went through Cheryl's mind when she looked at the boy? She was now forty-one. Even if the miscarriage five years ago had not made the possibility remote, the likelihood that she might have a child of her own was fast receding. She had been as good as a mother to Dan, he thought, leaning back in his chair and studying her profile against the glittering water. Never mind
Cheryl turned, caught him watching her, and stuck her tongue out.
He loved the woman.
EAST OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS
Over Wyoming the twelve-seater turbojet was twirled in the grand-daddy of all thunderstorms and they had to make a forced landing near a spot in the wilderness called Muddy Gap.
They sat on the single runway gazing out as hailstones as big as golf balls clanged and bounced off the wings. The pilot told them that he was quite seriously thinking of quitting. Sure, the pay was good, but three forced landings in two months were one hell of a strain on his nervous system. Besides, he had a wife and kids to consider.
