The Anti-Death League

by Kingsley Amis

  "What do you suggest I do about Apollo?"

  "It's nothing to do with Catharine or Fawkes or the dispatch-rider. It's detachable, so detach it. Tell me about it."

  "Why? What good would that do?"

  "There's no guarantee, of course, but I might be able to help you to feel better about some of it, less guilty and so on. It's worth a try."

  "I can't do it. I promised not to tell anybody."

  "Break your promise. If you can seriously go on about deserting and being court-martialed and the rest of it, you've got beyond that sort of promise. I shan't tell anybody else. You trust me, don't you?"

  "Yes." Churchill swallowed whisky. "But supposing I told you and then found it didn't help?"

  "Then you're no worse off, are you?"

  "A lot of lives are involved."

  "That makes it particularly important for me to keep my mouth shut, but I was going to do that anyway. You don't think I'm a spy, do you?"

  "No."

  "Then tell me."

  Churchill told him.

  By first light on the morning of Exercise Nabob a cordon of troops was in position along the perimeter of an area in the hills amounting to something over two square miles. Official signs diverting all civilian traffic had been set up on the relevant roads the previous evening. At 0800 hours a convoy of vehicles made its way out of the camp and headed for the cordoned area. It included two lorry-loads of infantry in full battle-order and two armored carriers containing machine-gun crews and their weapons. An RAF helicopter flew at fifty feet above the head of the column while another shuttled back and forth along the route. A sweep program had been arranged for the duration of the exercise to ensure continuous observation of the ground.

  On arrival at the assembly point, the machine-guns were unloaded and set up on tripods so as to command the main approaches. The infantrymen took up defensive positions round the rim of the slight depression in which the exercise proper was to take place.

  "I trust you've remembered to order the light cruiser squadron to prepare to receive cavalry, Brian," said Hunter.

  "It's all very well for you to laugh," said Leonard, doing so himself. He was in unusually high spirits, as if feeling that this was his day. "I can assure you that none of this is unnecessary."

  "Do you really think there's the slightest possibility of armed attack? Attack by whom, anyway? Perhaps war was declared while we were on our way up here."

  "I'd know about it if it had been. No, any form of physical intervention is in the highest degree unlikely-as things are. This show of preparedness has done a good deal to make it so."

  "You mean unless we'd rendered ourselves capable of delivering a million rounds a minute at any intruder we'd have had a Red Chinese parachute company on our necks? I think I see."

  "Stranger things have happened."

  "Very few. What precautions have you taken against high-altitude photography? It's a good day for it."

  They looked up into the cloudless, deep blue sky. One of the helicopters was rattling along almost overhead with its curious not-quite-head-foremost aerial gait. The two men were standing at the comer of a rough square of level grass where the transport had been parked. Nearby, the main stores vehicle was being unloaded under the supervision of Ross-Donaldson and a sergeant-major. A number of long narrow wooden boxes, about five feet by nine inches by six inches, were being carefully handed down from the interior of the truck and piled side by side on the turf. Now and then Hunter glanced interestedly over at this proceeding.

  Leonard was saying something about conditions actually being unfavorable to air observation of the secret material and activity about to be exposed. These were on too small a scale physically, he explained, to be meaningful if photographed at normal spy-plane height with even the most mature apparatus known to be available. To fly at the comparatively low altitude demanded, in the present absence of cloud-cover, would be to approach maximal risk-potential. The equations and curves prepared in advance at the direction of Leonard's masters, which seemed to have taken into account a meteorological spectrum ranging from the existing bright sunshine to unforeseen solar eclipse, gave the probability of unauthorized penetration of the air-space above Exercise Nabob as approximately two centicents, or 0.02 of 1 per cent. These two chances in ten thousand were being taken care of by a system of coastal watch and patrol which Leonard did not see fit to go into at the present time.

  By the end of his exposition three more officers had approached. They were Major Venables and two taciturn captains called O'Neill and Isaacs who had arrived at the unit two days previously. The pair had spent most of the intervening period in the Exercise area accompanied by a large working-party.

  "Are you happy, Leonard?" asked Venables. "I use the ridiculous but serviceable locution. Your emotional welfare is no concern of mine."

  "I understand, sir. Yes, my preparations are complete. I suggest you conduct your preliminaries now and go ahead in your own time with final briefing."

  "I can find no objection to that."

  "How long will you need?"

  Venables looked at O'Neill, who said, "Fifteen minutes should do it."

  "See to it, then," said Venables.

  O'Neill and his companion moved off towards the stores vehicle.

  "Would anybody mind if I watched this part, Brian?" asked Hunter.

  Leonard hesitated. "No," he said finally. "Mere acquaintance with externals isn't inappropriate for an officer of your Security rating… That's if you approve, sir."

  "Who, I?" Venables seemed astonished. "I have no grounds for disapproval. Hunter may do as he pleases, short of inconveniencing me."

  "Okay, then, Max. See you later."

  The two captains had already begun their preliminaries when Hunter reached them. A party under a sergeant was carrying the boxes from their stack by the lorry over to a small but substantial earth and concrete bunker built during the past couple of days. It lay just short of the crest of a minor slope. From it, Hunter found he had an unimpeded view of half a mile or more across the floor of the valley. He caught a wink of metal up near the skyline as somebody in the defense detachment shifted his position. From near at hand he heard a fluctuating roar and a grinding of tracks from the small obsolete-looking tank that had come from a nearby armored training unit to join the convoy earlier that morning, incidentally imposing a twenty-minute delay in starting. Now the tank began to move slowly away round the inner edge of the depression.

  With a certain amount of ceremony, the locking bolts on one of the boxes were pulled aside and the lid raised. Inside, resting between padded clips, lay an object roughly resembling an elongated golf-bag in webbing with brass studs. At this point Isaacs stepped forward, opened this container and drew out a rifle with an unusually extended barrel, a conical projection at the muzzle, a small bipod forward of the point of balance and a drum-type magazine to the right of the breech. He laid the weapon down on one of several piles of sacking arranged along the parapet of the bunker. Meanwhile another box had been opened under the direction of O'Neill, and within a couple of minutes five rifles of the type described were lying on the parapet.

  "Ammunition," said O'Neill sharply.

  Isaacs moved to a metal box with a double stripe of red and yellow round it. He tore off the Ministry of Defence seal on its fastening and opened it, revealing a row of elongated cartridges with red-painted cases. Inside the lid was printed in red, Danger- Atomics-Arm by pressing base and giving half-turn to right-Not to be distributed except on the orders of an officer. While O'Neill watched, Isaacs took five rounds out of the box and carefully laid one down beside each of the rifles.

  Just then Hunter caught sight of Churchill standing with a couple of other officers by the line of vehicles. He walked over and Churchill came forward to meet him.

  "Quite a show they've evidently got lined up for us," said Churchill. His eyes were half closed, as if the sunlight were too strong for them.

  "I'm surprised they
haven't brought Willie Ayscue along to bless the proceedings. Are you actually going to fire one of those things?"

  "I may and I may not. We're going to sort of draw lots for it."

  "Why isn't everybody taking a turn?"

  "I don't know. It could easily be a benign growth, not cancer at all. I hope it is. I wish I hadn't let her talk me out of being with her this morning. I should have insisted." Churchill spoke flatly.

  "Why did she talk you out of it?"

  "I don't know. I think it's just part of the way everybody's tacitly agreed to behave as if there's nothing much at stake. But I don't know."

  "I see. When will you hear what they've found?"

  "Any moment now. Lucy's going to telephone to the Command Post and they'll get on to Brian over the radio link. He set up the whole thing."

  "I see. I hope-"

  "Assemble for briefing, please," said Venables's amplified voice on a loud-hailer. "All S1 officers to the firing-point for briefing."

  "That's me," said Churchill. "Max, if the message comes through while I'm down there would you take it? I've arranged it with Brian. They'll say they're calling Blacksmith, which is my code-name, and then they'll just say ‘Good news' or ‘Bad news.' "

  "I'll do that, of course."

  "Thanks. I'd like you to be the one to tell me. But of course it might not come until they've finished briefing. I'll go over to Brian's car as soon as they have. See you."

  Churchill went off after his companions. Colonel White got out of his car, where he had been sitting reading what looked like some learned journal ever since arriving at the assembly point, and limped off briskly in the same direction. Ross-Donaldson appeared and joined him. Hunter returned to where he had left Leonard, who at that moment ran the few yards to his car, got in and slammed the door. The window was open, however, and Hunter arrived in time to hear him say excitedly,

  "Padlock here. Over."

  "Man in civilian clothes sighted approaching southeast corner," said a voice over the loud-speaker. "I've got the glasses on him but I can't tell whether it's Optimus or not. Could be. He's coming slow and cautious, trying to keep concealed as much as possible. No doubt about it, he's seen us and reckons we haven't seen him. Over."

  "You keep it that way," said Leonard, picking up a mapcase and a chinagraph pencil. "Give map-reference of his present location and estimate his general direction. Over."

  Letters and figures followed. Leonard marked a cross in red on the talc over his map and an arrow pointing northwest. Then he studied the map for a moment and said,

  "He seems to be making for that re-entrant or gully that runs into the ridge about eighty yards northeast of you. Do you agree? Over."

  "Could be, sir. Yes, there's fairish cover for him most of the way there and the gully itself's pretty well wooded. Yes, he's moving that way now. Oh, and I'm pretty sure it is Optimus. Over."

  "Good, splendid. Right, sergeant-major. Instruct your men on both sides of the gully to move away from it when the man approaches. Gradually, mind. Nothing obvious. Check back to me when you've done that. Over."

  "Roger, Padlock. Out."

  Leonard looked up, sweat glittering among the thin hair on the top of his head. "Looks as if we've got him," he said.

  "Optimus equals Best." Hunter too seemed excited. "What a scholar you are, Brian. How do your fellows know what he looks like? Did you send them all on a tour of the hospital?"

  "I had him photographed. Without his knowing it, of course."

  "Marvelous. And what's in store for him now?"

  "When he's through the cordon I shall let him find his way along here. The defense detachments have orders to show themselves as much as possible. Then, as soon as I find out what route he's taking, I'll get them to withdraw laterally, like the cordon just now, and presumably he'll arrive somewhere up there"-Leonard gestured at the skyline with his head-"and start taking photographs."

  "And then you grab him."

  "No, we want him to pass on the stuff so that we can grab the people on his line of communication as well. I'm putting him under continuous surveillance. He'll be allowed to leave the area in the same way as he entered it. With one of my men in close attendance."

  Hunter shook his head admiringly. "Very neat. And frightfully energetic. All this show just put on for Best's benefit."

  "It's not just for his benefit at all," said Leonard emphatically. "I don't know what gave you that idea. It's a vitally important piece of training."

  "Oh, of course. I was really only thinking what an efficient spy-trap it is."

  "Actually," and here Leonard's voice grew as confidential as it ever did, "it isn't really training in the strict sense. More of a demonstration. These fellows all know their business backwards. But it's felt that seeing this thing in action will be psychologically beneficial. It'll make them believe in it, give them confidence, stop them thinking exclusively in terms of theory."

  "Good idea."

  The loudspeaker came to life. "Hallo, Padlock. Are you receiving me? Over."

  "Padlock listening. Over."

  "Civilian now approaching mouth of gully. Definitely identifiable as Optimus. Men on both sides of gully moving off as ordered. Over."

  Hunter did not wait to hear Leonard's reply. He strolled over towards the bunker, where the briefing was evidently about to begin. His expression was puzzled.

  "This is Captain O'Neill," said Venables without preamble. "You may have met him. He will tell you what it is necessary for you to know about this device."

  With that, Venables sat down on the grass. O'Neill came forward holding one of the rifles by the stock.

  "This, gentlemen, is the NHW-17," he said. "Now I know you're all fully trained in the tactical handling of nuclear hand-weapons, their mode of operation, special problems of supply and so on. But you'll forgive me if I just run over a few salient points. The first thing to remember is that this is an ordinary rifle that uses extraordinary ammunition, and that even the ammunition's ordinary enough until it arrives at its target. You'll see that it resembles an ordinary rather old-fashioned Service rifle with a few luxuries thrown in: bipod for greater steadiness, lengthened barrel for increased accuracy, flash eliminator for concealment. Ordinary magazine and bolt action." He demonstrated this. "You'll get a chance to practice that later on, using dummy rounds. Now as to the serious ammunition, the punch is.085 T, which as you know is jargon for eighty-five thousandths of a metric ton of TNT, or simply eighty-five kilograms. Nothing very much, you may say. Certainly it's a mere teaspoonful compared with what some of the NTWs can deliver. The purpose of this weapon, though, involves not the size of the punch but the rapidity and selectivity with which it can be delivered. A platoon equipped with the NHW-17 combines the mobility and ground-covering capacity of an infantryman with the firepower of something like three field batteries of artillery. Ideal for a war of movement over difficult terrain.

  "The other technical consideration is that of fall-out. This in my hand is a very clean bullet indeed, to a revolutionary degree, in fact. We'll be taking all precautions today, of course, but you can rest assured that residual radioactivity is negligible. If it weren't for the heat factor, which I'll go into in a minute, ground cleared by the NHW-17 could be occupied virtually at once. There are special circumstances, however, in which the use of an altogether different type of bullet will be advantageous. For obvious reasons we shan't be firing this type today, here in the middle of the English countryside. But consider the case of an enemy center of population within reach of airborne approach. You can see the implications there."

  At this point, Hunter heard Leonard calling his name from where he had left him. He turned at once and hurried to the car.

  "Blacksmith," said Leonard.

  "Have they passed the message yet?"

  "I'll tell them to now."

  Leonard said into his hand-microphone, "Hullo, Control. Pass your message. Over."

  "Hullo, Padlock," said a voice Hunter rec
ognized as that of one of the regular Command Post operators. "Message begins. Bad news. I say again, bad news. Message ends. Over."

  "Thank you, Control. Message received and understood. Out."

  Beyond the frying noise from the loudspeaker Hunter could hear O'Neill going on with his briefing, but too far off for words to be distinguishable. Then the clatter of a helicopter passing above the firing-point cut out all other sound. Hunter and Leonard looked away from each other as they waited for it to recede. It had become a faint murmur before either spoke.

  "What a terrible thing," said Leonard at last. "That poor girl. And James not able to be with her."

  "I know. It's an unpleasant situation."

  "Of course, there is a lot they can do these days. You've got quite a good chance if you catch it early on like this."

  "Yes, there is that."

  "When are you going to tell him?"

  "I'll wait till I see a moment."

  "I don't envy you, Max, having to do that. What on earth is there to say in this sort of situation? One feels so helpless."

  "One does indeed."

  "Hullo, Padlock," came from the loudspeaker. "Charlie here. Over."

  "Padlock listening. Over."

  "Optimus now inside cordon, still proceeding roughly northwest. He'll be out of sight in a minute or two. Any further instructions? Over."

  "No, that's fine. Keep him under observation as long as you can. Report his position when you finally lose contact. You can give your men a breather now. You've all done extremely well. Over."

  "Roger. Thank you, sir. Out."

  "Hullo, Fox. Hullo, Fox. Have you understood Charlie's information? Over."

  "Hullo, Padlock. Yes, Charlie's information received and understood. Over."

  "Very good. Keep strict watch for approach of Optimus and report as soon as sighted. Over."