I reached quickly, and so did X-117, and the loudspeaker had hardly finished before Zone A became covered with a mass of blue and golden points.
Aesthetically the picture was quite pleasing. Red blobs and blue and yellow spots, some on the red blobs and some outside them. But the colour was still restricted to Zone A. The other zones remained white, like a continent waiting for an explorer to map it.
I wondered what impression the news would make on P. Also on other people who would meet me in the lounge and ask me about it all. I thought about this, that and the other—like during a concert, when one’s thoughts wander far away from the music.
At 10.10 came the next order from the loudspeaker: “Push Button B1, push Button B2, push Button B3, push Button C1!”
We pushed four times. Now all the map was unevenly spotted with points in three colours.
Five minutes later the blue and yellow spots in Zone A started to change into circular blots. The blue ones were particularly big: these indicated the destruction resulting from the blast and heat of multi-megaton bombs which were bursting in the air to cause very widespread damage. Areas ranging from hundreds to thousands of square miles were being wiped out.
It was obvious from the screen that this bombing was proving much more effective than the first lot. Perhaps the enemy was running short of interceptors, or else our A2 and A3 missiles were fitted with some anti- interceptor device which the A1 rockets did not possess. Whatever the explanation, the blue and golden circles were steadily obliterating Zone A, and soon the red circles looked almost insignificant. There were very few of them which were not surrounded by circles of yellow or blue. The blue was steadily spreading over the zone, with smaller golden and red blobs superimposed like stars in a night sky.
At 10.40 the dots on Zone B started their metamorphosis into circles. This time the process was different, for red, blue and yellow circles appeared simultaneously. They were all there competing for space.
The coloured ‘exploration’ progressed into the heart of Zone B almost unchecked. Apparently there were no more obstacles in the way of our missiles. The ‘
The spots started to spread in Zone C at 10.55. This time there were only red ones, so the process could be seen more clearly.
But there appeared to be some trouble, for a large number of the spots disappeared, meaning that the missiles had not found their marks. Either the enemy had some defensive counter-measures in Zone C, or else our rockets were simply failing to reach there. Perhaps it was the greater range that was the difficulty. Certainly something had gone wrong.
At 11.00 hours we received another order, from a different voice this time: “Press Button C2, press Button C3!”
We pushed and waited again.
There were only three buttons left unpushed—the supposedly most dangerous ones, which controlled the batteries of ‘rigged’ bombs. Their radioactivity would make the areas they hit uninhabitable not ‘just in the immediate future but for years to come. Perhaps for generations.
It had always been doubted whether these bombs would be used at all, for in all probability their effect would not be limited to the territory directly hit but would also spread to neighbouring countries. And there were no grounds for annihilating neutrals. Even more to the point, these bombs might endanger our own existence. No country wants a suicidal war!
“Or does it?” I began to ask myself; but the thought was quickly banished from my mind by the loudspeaker (in its original voice) : “Attention! Push Button A4, push Button B4, push Button C4!”
I glanced at the clock—11.15 hours—and pressed the three buttons. Then I looked up at the map, and was puzzled to find that no black marks had appeared. I pushed the buttons again. Nothing happened.
Then the loudspeaker—it was voice number two again—practically shouted: “Officer X-117! Push Buttons A4! B4! C4!”
I turned and looked at X-117. He was sitting in his chair staring at the buttons, while his arms hung limply as if someone had severed the nerves. He did not stir, but there were some sounds coming from his lips.
They were hardly audible, but after a while I could make out what he was saying: “No! Anything but those! Not Buttons 4! I can’t kill my mother! No, not those…”
The Operations Room door suddenly swung open and two men—from the medical department, I think— dragged X-117 from the room. His arms were still hanging limply, and as he staggered out of the doorway he went on repeating: “No! Not Buttons 4….”
I had no time to reflect on what had happened. X-107 entered the room and quietly took X-117’s place at the
other table. X-137 came in behind him—apparently to replace me if necessary.
The loudspeaker sounded again (by now the time was 11.20): “Push Button A4, push Button B4, push Button C4!”
This time it went without a hitch.
At 11.21 hours today the 9th of June, I was through with my daily duty. As a matter of fact, I was through with my life’s work. I had done my job. My function as PBX Officer was completely fulfilled.
The loudspeaker said: “You are free, gentlemen. You may go to your quarters or, if you prefer, stay to watch the results of A4, B4 and C4.”
X-107 and X-137 remained behind to see what happened. I came back here to my room and lay down.
JUNE 10
So the war is over. It started yesterday at 09.12 hours, as far as our offensive action was concerned, and it ended when our last missiles exploded in enemy territory at 12.10 hours.
The whole war lasted two hours and fifty-eight minutes—the shortest war in history. And the most devastating one. For both these reasons it is very easy to write its history: no complicated and lengthy campaigns, no battlefields to remember—the globe was one battlefield.
I could summarise this war, the greatest in human history, in a few words: “Yesterday, in a little under three hours, life on vast patches of the earth was annihilated.” But I had better be more historically minded and write down a few details about how it happened. These details were announced on the general loudspeaker system first thing this morning, and have been repeated several times since. Everybody knows them now almost by heart. I shall reproduce them true to their spirit, even if the wording differs a little from the original.
Yesterday, at 09.07 hours, twelve H-bombs fell in a remote part of our country. Ten of them exploded in sparsely inhabited areas, but two hit big centres of population. The attack came suddenly, and by the time PBY Command detected the missiles they were already striking their targets. No interception of these rockets was possible, but their arrival served as the best possible warning and PBY Command’s later achievements were spectacular.
The PBX Command too was alive to what was going on. The treacherous attack had to be met with a counter-attack,and so the command “Push Button A1” was given. The command was limited, quite conscientiously, to just the one button. We did not want to start a total war as long as we were not sure that the enemy intended to annihilate us completely. Button A1 released only two thousand rockets, with warheads of one to five megatons. They were directed solely at military and industrial installations in the nearest enemy zone.
At the same time, in case the enemy should retaliate, the alarm was sounded throughout the country and people hurried underground. This was done in a fairly orderly manner, except for some trouble over the Level 1 shelters. Many people without the proper identification tried to get into them, and this led to rioting. It is likely that many people who should not have gone below did so, while some who were entitled to a place were left outside. The shelters became overcrowded, and in the struggle for space many women, children and old people were crushed to death. These scenes went on for as long as the areas concerned were not hit; and the longer they were spared the bombs, the worse the fighting became. In some places it was over in forty minutes or so, but
