by James Morrow
‘If a war ever started, God forbid, the Soviets would immediately see they had nothing to gain by moving beyond surgical strikes,’ answered Wengernook.
‘They would be deterred from escalating?’
‘Exactly. Their only option would be peace.’
Bonenfant allowed the word peace to linger for several beats, then announced that he had no further questions. Justice Jefferson ordered a lunch recess.
‘I’m glad he got immorality in there,’ said Brat.
‘The line about peace was good too,’ said George.
His bullet wound throbbed crazily as he tried to recall Victor Seabird’s testimony. A complicated test ban, is that what the old man had negotiated? And there was something about weaponsgrade material . . .
‘Secretary Wengernook,’ Aquinas began after the break, ‘is it fair to say that the defense of Western Europe lay at the heart of America’s involvement with nuclear weapons?’
‘Given the superiority of the Warsaw Pact’s conventional forces, tactical deployments were essential to NATO’s security.’
‘Some observers believed that the new intermediate-range missiles in Europe forced the Soviets to adopt a policy of launchon-warning.’
‘You must consider the stabilizing aspects of launch-on-warning.’ Wengernook jettisoned his cigarette. ‘When a nation puts her missiles on a so-called “hair trigger,” her military leaders feel much less threatened.’
‘Because they know they won’t lose those forces in a preemptive strike?’
‘Yes.’
‘So they’re less likely to do something foolish?’
‘Right.’
‘Like launching on warning?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Tell the tribunal about no-first-use.’
‘This was the proposed doctrine whereby NATO would never be first to fire nuclear weapons, even in the face of a total defeat by the Warsaw Pact’s tank divisions.’
Aquinas retrieved several items from one of the document piles. ‘Glancing through your writings, I see that you were opposed to a no-first-use pledge.’
‘It would have severely eroded deterrence. I much prefer a policy that says, “NATO will never shoot any nuclear missiles unless attacked.” ’
‘By conventional weapons.’
‘It also had a credibility problem. The whole thing would have gone out the window as soon as the Soviet blitzkrieg began.’
‘Let me get this straight. The problem with no-first-use was that it had just enough credibility to invite a grand scale assault, but not enough credibility to hold up during one?’
‘You should never let the enemy know your intentions.’
‘Is that why in this issue of Strategic Doctrine Quarterly, Document 794, you praised President Truman for introducing something called “The Hiroshima Factor”?’
‘Well, Hiroshima certainly gave us an advantage over the Soviets in the ambiguity area,’ said Wengernook, leafing through the document in question. ‘They never knew just what we would do.’
‘So by rejecting no-first-use, America could retain its superiority in ambiguity?’
‘I’m trying to give a serious interview here.’
‘Your 1992 commencement address at the Air Force Academy, Document 613, includes the famous remark that, quote, “In a nuclear war our forces must prevail over the Soviets and achieve an early cessation of hostilities on terms favorable to the United States.” Unquote. What does it mean to “prevail” in a nuclear war, Secretary?’
‘It means absorbing a first strike and then retaliating decisively.’
‘How would you characterize a country that has absorbed a first strike?’
‘The industrial base is largely intact, the command structure is functioning, and deterrence has been restored.’
‘What about the civilian population?’
‘A significant percentage has survived.’
‘And a significant percentage hasn’t survived. Is this what you people call “acceptable losses”?’
‘Occasionally we used that term.’
‘Five million people killed, is that acceptable?’
‘Well, we had that twenty million figure staring us in the face.’
‘What twenty million figure?’
‘The casualties Russia suffered in the Second World War.’
‘A troubling sum. You were losing the acceptable losses race.’
Justice Wojciechowski asked, ‘Mr Wengernook, may I assume that no losses were acceptable to you personally?’
‘That goes without saying.’ The defendant drew a pair of mirrored sunglasses from his scopas suit and put them on. ‘Acceptable losses is a very abstract concept. It only comes up in strategic discussions.’
‘I hate to be a Monday-morning quarterback,’ said Aquinas, ‘but the United States didn’t “prevail,” did it? Your menu got used up, the Soviets neglected to offer favorable terms, the SPASM was implemented, and the human race disappeared. Now, in light of these events, do you still believe your plans were more moral than mutual assured destruction?’
‘There is a world of ethical difference between offensive warfighting plans and preventive war-fighting plans.’
‘Is that why winning was an ugly concept when the Soviets thought about it and a realistic option when you did?’
‘We had to live in the world as it was, Prosecutor, not as we would have liked it to be.’
Aquinas moved so close to Wengernook that his breath fogged the defendant’s sunglasses. ‘But you made the world as it was! Your strategic menu threatened the Soviets from all sides! Your theater forces menaced them! Your Multiprongs taunted them! Your Omegas—!’
‘ “If you would have peace, prepare for war,” ’ Wengernook quoted somberly. ‘Appius Claudius the Blind.’
‘And if you would have war, you also prepare for war!’
George had seen this scene before, on movie screens – the prosecutor trying to break down the defendant.
‘I submit that your strategies had the Soviets frightened to death!’ Aquinas persisted. ‘I submit that the best hope they saw was a quick, unexpected decapitation of the American command structure!’
But this was not the movies. This was the post-exchange environment, where everybody is extinct and assistant defense secretaries are as unyielding as Vermont granite.
‘No, you’re wrong,’ said Wengernook wearily. ‘That Soviet Spitball attack was completely unmotivated.’
Aquinas was at the bench, standing before the little frozen missile exhibits. ‘When was this arms race supposed to end, Secretary?’ He kicked the ice arsenal. ‘When?’
‘An unmotivated, naive, pointless, reckless, suicidal attack,’ said Wengernook. ‘Everybody knows that Spitball cruise missiles are not good for first strikes.’
‘When?’ shouted Mother Mary Catherine from the gallery.
‘How many times can you fantasize all these battle plans before wanting to get the whole thing over with?’ Aquinas demanded, kicking missiles. ‘How many times can you go through the door marked DETERRENCE before you end up in a concrete bunker turning launch keys?’
Wengernook ripped off his sunglasses and said, ‘To this day, I don’t understand the enemy’s reasoning. Spitballs are second-strike weapons. Not first-strike – second-strike. Is that clear?’
For the next ten minutes Aquinas kicked missiles and shouted rhetorical questions, Wengernook patiently explained why Spitballs were useless in first strikes, Mother Mary Catherine released balloons with WHEN? painted on their sides, and Justice Jefferson made halfhearted attempts to restore order. Finally a haggard chief prosecutor announced that he had no further questions.
Back in the booth, Wengernook received warm congratulations and firm handshakes from Brat, Randstable, Overwhite, and Sparrow. He approached George and gave him an amiable slap on the shoulder. ‘This sort of testimony must sound awfully technical to you, huh?’ asked the defense secretary.
‘I didn’t hear you sa
y how many times you could go through the door marked DETERRENCE,’ George replied. His tone was more acid than he intended, but it sounded right. ‘The crowd drowned you out.’
‘Defending a country is a damn sight harder than sticking a few words on a tombstone,’ said Wengernook between locked teeth. A WHEN? balloon bounced off the booth door. ‘You’re going to testify tomorrow, aren’t you? Just remember, we’re with you one hundred percent.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In Which Our Hero Learns that One Person on Earth Was Less Guilty than He
George’s spermatids trembled as his advocate left the defense table and walked through the mid-morning darkness. It won’t be that bad, he told them. I merely have to explain that I was not involved with smart warheads, damage limitation, any of it.
Bonenfant said, ‘The defense calls George—’
‘No!’ a familiar voice piped up from the back of the courtroom. ‘The defense calls me!’
Theophilus Carter ambled forward stomping on WHEN? balloons and carrying a steaming cup of tea. His scopas suit was diamond-patterned like a harlequin’s tights, and its utility belt sagged with daggers and pistols from the costume racks of the Mad Tea Party. ‘I don’t normally arm myself so heavily,’ he explained, sipping tea, ‘but I understand there are war criminals present. Say, shouldn’t somebody ask me to remove my hat?’ He darted a blobby finger toward Justice Jefferson. ‘Aren’t you in charge of that?’
‘I don’t care what you do with your hat, sir,’ she replied, ‘Can anyone tell me who this is?’
‘Dr Theophilus Carter, unadmitted tailor and inventor,’ said Aquinas, rising. ‘We hired him to deliver Document 919 to the defendant Paxton.’
‘Why did you retain the services of such an unbalanced person?’ Justice Jefferson demanded.
‘Oh, I’m highly balanced,’ asserted the MAD Hatter. He set the teacup in the brim of his hat and did a pirouette. ‘It’s the strategic forces that are unbalanced.’
‘We were unaware of his condition at the time,’ Aquinas explained.
‘You don’t really want this man testifying, do you, Mr Bonenfant?’ asked Justice Jefferson.
‘But I have evidence to give,’ said the Hatter. ‘I can prove that George is innocent.’
Bonenfant uncurled his index finger, aimed it at the client in question, wiggled it. George left the glass booth and joined his advocate in a niche jammed with documents relating to STABLE II.
‘Any reason not to hear what this fellow has to say?’ whispered Bonenfant.
‘He’s a madman,’ said George. ‘Can you put a madman on the stand?’
Swearing in Theophilus Carter was the greatest challenge of the court usher’s career. After fifteen minutes of semantic circumlocution, the job was done.
‘Are you acquainted with the defendant Paxton?’ Bonenfant asked.
‘George and I go back a long way,’ the Hatter replied. ‘I knew him before his secondary spermatocytes were failing to become spermatids. May I give my testimony now?’
‘That’s what you’re doing.’
‘This whole thing would go a lot quicker if I told you what to say. Ask me, “When did you first meet the defendant?” ’
Bonenfant’s upper teeth entered into violent contact with his lower ones. ‘Er – when did you first meet—’
‘When he came in to get his free scopas suit. Ask me how much the prosecution paid me to make it.’
‘How much did the prosecution pay you—’
‘Objection!’ The Hatter shot up as if attached to a delivery system. ‘Leading the witness! The prosecution did not pay me to make the suit. But they did bribe me with a wonderful flying shop.’ He flopped back into the stand. ‘Ask me what happened after I told George he had to sign a sales contract implicating himself in the arms race.’
‘The tribunal will please note that my client was entrapped by the prosecution. Now, Mr Carter, what happened after you told George he had to sign a sales—’
‘He signed it, took the suit, and left.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I became curious. Would anyone have behaved as George did – accepting a free suit even after being told that this technology undermined deterrence? So I filled my hat with unsigned contracts and flew off in my shop. I figured that if fifty people refused to sign, then George was an unusually negligent person, and I was obliged to surrender his confession to the prosecution.’
‘Did you find fifty such people?’
After removing the teacup from the brim, Theophilus flipped his hat over and reached inside. His hand emerged with a stack of scopas suit sales contracts. ‘These are the first two hundred I gave out. Every one is signed. All right, I said to myself. I’ll settle for forty-five refusals. No luck. Thirty? Impossible, Ten? Nope. Time was running out. The warheads had started landing. One! If one person is less negligent than George Paxton, I’ll hand over the evidence of his guilt.’
‘And did you find such a person?’
‘Ask me if I found such a person.’
‘I just did.’
‘You did? What a coincidence – I found one too! Ask me whether this person was a man or a woman.’
‘Was this person a man or—’
‘That’s irrelevant! What’s relevant is that only one person on earth was willing to worry about the impact of scopas suits on deterrence.’
‘Your Honor, I object,’ said Aquinas. ‘Dr Carter did not approach every person on earth.’
As Justice Jefferson instructed the stenographers to delete the witness’s last remark, Theophilus unhooked a pineapple-type fragmentation grenade from his belt and began biting the cast iron case.
‘Ask me why I’m insane,’ he said.
‘Why are you insane?’ the advocate responded.
Theophilus pulled the pin from the grenade – nothing happened – and used it to stir his tea. If admitted, he explained, he would have been part of the abolition regime. His job would have been to sit in a rubber room in the Pentagon all day, thinking about strategic doctrine. It was assumed that people who took this job would go crazy. They were the heroes of the twenty-first century. Their madness was their gift to the human species; because of the Hatter and his fellow martyrs, humanity would never forget how close it had come to suicide.
‘Ask me what job I have now,’ said Theophilus.
‘What job—’
‘History rehabilitation. Long hours, low pay, bad smells. ‘Again he reached into his hat, this time coming up with a stack of computer software disks. ‘Now this program here,’ he said, ‘this is Marcus Aurelius. And this one will go into Mahatma Gandhi’s brain. At one time, all of history heartily approved of what this tribunal is trying to do. But then, after George saved my life—’
‘Saved your life?’ said Bonenfant, pouncing on the testimonial. ‘How did he come to save your life?’
‘I’m asking the questions around here! Ask me how George came to save my life.’
‘How did George—’
‘Somebody was going to shoot me. Ask me who.’
‘Who?’
‘Don’t ask! It would not help Tarmac’s case one bit.’
‘I wasn’t really going to shoot him,’ Brat explained to his codefendants. ‘I just wanted to scare him into giving me his shop.’
‘It flies – is that what he said?’ asked Randstable.
‘Twenty-first century know-how,’ said Brat.
‘Love to see the schematics,’ said Randstable.
Theophilus took more software from his hat. ‘After George saved my life, I realized that the framers of the McMurdo Sound Agreement had been overstepping their authority. He’s a fine fellow, old George is. You should see the witnesses I’ve got lined up.’ The Hatter waved a disk around. ‘Look! Socrates will testify in his defense! And Saint Francis of Assisi! Joan of Arc! Jesus Christ Himself is prepared to take the stand on George’s behalf . . . Yes, the same Jesus Christ who said, “But whosoever shall nuke thy capital cit
y, turn to him thy best seaport also.” ’
George noticed that Reverend Sparrow’s face was rapidly shifting toward the purple end of the spectrum.
Aquinas rose and said, ‘I move that all of this witness’s babblings be stricken.’
‘Mr Carter has stated that my client was entrapped,’ said Bonenfant. ‘That is vital testimony.’
While the president of the court deliberated, Theophilus refilled his hat with software and sales contracts.
‘The testimony will stand,’ said Justice Jefferson. ‘However, we do not wish to hear any more of it. The prosecution may cross-examine.’
‘We decline to cross-examine,’ said Aquinas.
‘Oh? Why?’
‘Because life is short, your Honor.’
As when a fever seizes the brain and makes things grotesquely smaller, larger, fatter, or thinner, so did the perspectives afforded by the stand disorient George. The audience, a tame and predictable creature when viewed from within the booth, now looked ferocious. The judges had acquired a terrifying hostility. The court usher was stark and unforgiving.
‘What did you do for a living?’ Bonenfant asked.
‘I inscribed tombstones,’ George answered. ‘And sold them.’
‘Did this work have anything to do with national defense?’
‘No.’ So far, so good, he thought.
Bonenfant retrieved Document 919 from a nearby evidence pile. ‘The prosecution’s entire case against you seems to rest on this sales contract. Is that your signature at the bottom?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Did Theophilus Carter insist that you read these statements carefully before signing?’
‘No.’
‘Did you read them carefully?’
‘Not really.’
‘According to the contract, you believed that scopas suits were encouraging America’s leaders to pursue a policy of nuclear brinksmanship.’
‘I didn’t even know what “nuclear brinksmanship” was. I’m still not sure.’
‘Did you believe, as the contract says, that scopas suits were distracting people from the real issues – STABLE talks, the MARCH Plan, no-first-use?’
‘Certainly not.’
