He looked at the viewing screen in the back of the seat before him and saw the surface of Earth below, a curving horizon and a general mottling of clouds. Nothing else. The look of no expression on Maria’s face as he had left her came so clearly back into his imagination that it was as if her face floated before him in the air this moment. He felt the coldness of her fingers against his fingers, and her voice rang, re-echoing in memory in his ear—
“Isn’t anybody willing to do anything? Not anybody? Nobody at all?”
They were all insane. He shivered. He had been wise to play along and pretend to consider their suggestion that he involve himself in their charade of resistance that could only lead to torture and death at Aalaag hands. They had no chance. None. If he had seriously considered joining them, he would have been as insane as they were.
His heart beat heavily. The cold touch of Maria’s fingers that lingered in his fingers seemed to spread up his arms and all through him. No, it was no use. It made no difference that they were insane.
He had no choice. Something within him left him no choice, even though he knew what it would mean. He would do it even though he knew it would mean his death in the end. He would seek them out again and go back to them. Join them.
Editor's Introduction to:
WINTER SNOW
by Eric Vinicoff and Marcia Martin
Two generations of Americans have grown up in the shadow of death. ICBMs and nuclear weapons combine to put the world one half hour from doomsday.
We have grown used to this bizarre situation. Statesmen and politicians have learned to live with it. Indeed, by adopting the doctrine of Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD) we have institutionalized doomsday. Under MAD we strive to make the world safe, not for people and civilizations, but for weapons. We undertake not to defend ourselves, lest we threaten the enemy’s rockets.
Common sense would tell us that defenses are useful. It requires considerable intellectual ability to explain why defense and damage limitation are more dangerous than helplessness.
The United States has no great record of success in the field of diplomacy. One of our diplomatic triumphs was the Kellogg-Briand Treaty, which outlawed war even as the storm clouds of World War II were gathering. The Washington Naval Arms Limitation Treaty was another. The United Nations was a third. Yet, despite our previous failures in the world of diplomacy, we are exhorted to entrust our children’s safety to Arms Control rather than to our technology. As I write this, we are going once again to Geneva; and all across the nation, learned writers are urging that we once and for all give up “Star Wars”; that we abandon strategic defense.
The Soviet Union has clearly violated the original Ballistic Missile Defense treaty. They have built two large radars; one of them might conceivably be intended for early warning, but the other can only be for battle management. The evidence continues to pile up: the Soviet Union believes in strategic defense, and will install strategic defenses as soon as they are technically available.
Meanwhile, the United States continues to act as if SALT II, the second Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty, were in effect, even though it was rejected by the Senate Armed Services Committee as “not in the national security interest of the United States.” Under SALT II we agreed to limit our strategic offensive forces (SOF) to 1200 missiles carrying MIRV (multiple independently targeted reentry vehicles); and pursuant to this non-ratified agreement the United States has not replaced older Minuteman II missiles with already-stockpiled Minuteman III, but proposes to dismantle six perfectly serviceable Poseidon submarines carrying an additional 96 MIRVed submarine-launched missiles. These subs cost $18 billion—which has already been paid.
Since 1979 when SALT II was signed, the Soviet Union has added over 3,850 warheads to their SOF.
The alternative to diplomacy is technology. In his historic speech of March 23, 1983, President Reagan proposed a shift in US policy: that we abandon Mutual Assured Destruction, MAD, and instead begin to implement a new doctrine of assured survival based on defensive systems.
Within minutes of the President’s speech there was a howl of protest.
According to Carl Sagan, Richard Garwin (an IBM Fellow) and others, “anything short of an impermeable defense system tends to undermine, not improve, U.S. national security.” According to them, if we can’t have perfect defenses we’re better off with no defenses at all. Perfect defenses are unlikely. Therefore we shouldn’t defend ourselves.
The iron logic of MAD has never appealed to the Soviet Union. They have always believed in defensive systems. Their citizens are trained in Civil Defense; the Soviet government has constructed shelters for key officials and a large part of the population; and they have begun to deploy the first elements of a ballistic missile defense system.
Sagan, Garwin, and the Union of Concerned Scientists believe that U.S. deployment of ballistic missile defenses would be destabilizing. They do not believe that we can afford missile defenses, or that the systems would work if we built them; but nevertheless, if we deploy them we invite the Soviets to attack us before the system is in place.
What happens if the Soviets get their system first?
WINTER SNOW
by Eric Vinicoff and Marcia Martin
Every so often one of the tiny, ersatz snowflakes sparkled as though reflecting an errant beam of moonlight. But there wasn’t any moonlight, only the softened lamp illumination of Premier Kirinski’s personal office and, beyond the curtains, the early morning sun raising mists from the stone-strong Kremlin walls.
The snowflakes drifted, seemingly carried by a gentle breeze, around the dark metal ball in the center of the crystal globe. The globe was twelve centimeters across. A slender rod of the same dark metal rose from the globe’s base to hold the ball in place. The base was set in a black plastic stand.
The globe was on the corner of Premier Kirinski’s desk.
He sat rigidly, his back well away from the chair’s padding, and stared at the globe. He had just come from the Central Committee meeting, and he would return to it shortly. But he had chosen to talk to the American President here. (Though of course the committee members would be watching and listening to the conversation.)
The snowflakes were purposeful in their travel, deliberately circling, never touching, the ball or the crystal. They never fell. Unlike the snows of Kiev, where he had been a happy child too many years ago. Or the knife-edged blizzards during the street-to-street fighting in Leningrad, and later in Berlin…
He stabbed a button on the intercom impatiently. “What is delaying the call?”
“My apologies, Premier,” Colonel Gurkoff said diffidently. “We have not used the picturephone equipment on the special line except in tests. The technical difficulties will be corrected in a minute or two.”
“See that they are, Colonel.”
The notes for his discussion with the American President were open in front of him, but his gaze returned to the globe.
His father was a tall presence amid the snowflakes, calling him into the house to finish his chores. Yes, Father, I have done many chores for my family, my country. The doctors tell me I will be joining you soon, perhaps before the year is out. But I have this last and most important chore to do. Then I can warm myself by the fire and rest.
The company name, Omutami, was written in fine silver script in the globe’s base. The Japanese were very good at devising such clever toys. Many of them had been sent as gifts to influential persons in an effort to secure an import license. Of course the license had not been granted; grain came before toys. But he kept his because it was… clever.
The Nazis killed you, Father. They laid waste to our country and butchered our people, as other invaders did before them. Today we are hemmed in by enemies who would bring the horror upon us yet again if we weren’t strong in arms and determination. China. Western Europe. But above all, America.
The battery in the base would keep the snowflakes moving—for how long? He would have to hav
e replacements, purchased from the Japanese company. Much effort to keep a toy working, but few things gave him pleasure now. His body was old, a frail and failing container for his still-strong dedication to his country, party and people.
The Americans are a worse threat than the Nazis. Not as evil, but powerful and willful children. Governed by the whim of the mob. One day they wish to live in peace with us; the next day they hate and fear us. Who can know what they will do next? They corrupt other nations and turn them against us while squandering the world’s resources in capitalistic excess. Their atomic weapons are aimed at our cities and military bases. No more! We cannot go on as hostages to the actions of a decadent people!
The intercom buzzed. “The call to President Nivling is ready, Premier.”
He sighed and dragged his eyes from the globe to the picturephone. The decades of wishing, the years of hard work; all for this moment. A supreme moment. He would at last be the savior he had dreamed of being ever since the fear-clutched World War II days.
If he were mistaken… But no, the technicians and the military leaders and the party officials were all in agreement. Now was the moment. Any timorousness would let the great opportunity slip through his fingers.
The small screen flickered, then resolved into the head and shoulders of the American President. He was seated in a high-backed chair. No one else was in view, but his eyes revealed that others were present off-camera. With mild surprise the Premier recognized the darkened background as the Pentagon’s Situation Room.
“Good morning, Premier,” President Nivling said in his very bad Russian. His tone was somber, and he wasn’t trying to hide his frown. He was also an old man, but stocky and overweight where the Premier was wiry. He looked like a successful, decadent capitalist—which he was—and foolish, which he definitely was not. An accomplished demagogue, brilliant but not wise, with the morality of a starved wolf. “It is morning for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. You know why I have asked for this conference?”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
“Then you know that the matter is very serious. Shall we dispense with preliminaries and discuss it?”
“As you say.”
“I am sure your spies have kept you informed as to the progress of our project called Tsarina.”
“Of course. Even a few details you weren’t kind enough to leak to us.” The President paused. “Some of my advisers are puzzled over why you haven’t tried to keep it a better secret.”
“And you, Mister President, are not?”
“Of course not, Premier. Because by its very nature you couldn’t have hidden it even if you had wanted to. Plus you were giving us plenty of time to consider our options.”
It was a pleasure to deal with an intelligent opponent. If only that intelligence could be directed to smoothing the way to the necessary future. “Naturally that meant taking some risks. Several of your sabotages delayed us substantially.”
The President’s brows rose in an exaggerated gesture. “Sabotages?”
“Deny it if you wish. It doesn’t matter now. The Tsarina satellites are in orbit and activated—as you must know, since we destroyed your missiles that ‘strayed’ too close.”
The President did not bother with another denial. He waited stoically.
“You had the technology to build the equivalent of Tsarina and maintain parity. But you squabbled over diverting money from your hedonism until it was too late. While we sacrificed to insure our security.”
“Not that your citizens had any choice in the matter.”
He was bored with such simplistic misconceptions. “You who confuse freedom with anarchy can hardly be expected to see the difference between discipline and oppression. Enough of this. I have called to tell you the realities of the new situation.”
The President nodded slightly, as though hearing expected words, but otherwise showed no reaction.
“The particle beams from the Tsarina satellites can destroy missiles and aircraft in flight anywhere in the world, even cruise missiles or jets flying, as you say, down on the deck. You know this is true—you have observed our tests.”
“You may be overly enthusiastic about your new ultimate weapon.”
“Tsarina is a defense, not a weapon. We are now safe from the strategic nuclear weapons of hostile nations.”
“Hopefully your sense of safety will help us reduce the tensions between us. We have never wanted anything from you but peace.”
He had to fight down a surge of anger. “We will have peace. We will have peace when no one can ever threaten us with war again. We are not going to sit idly while you develop countermeasures against Tsarina.”
Some color left the President’s ruddy cheeks. “You have some specific proposals?”
“We have specific demands; let’s not mince words. I am telling you this privately so you can put the best possible face on it for your people. You will destroy all of your strategic and tactical nuclear weapons. You will stop all nuclear research, as well as research in certain other areas. You will withdraw your military forces to within your national borders and reduce their number to an acceptable level. A detailed memorandum will be delivered tomorrow by our ambassador. The other nuclear powers will receive similar ultimatums.”
“Don’t be absurd,” the President said. “The United States isn’t about to surrender based on a mere threat. If I tried I would be removed from office. I warn you, Premier; if you insist on starting a war, you will get more of a war than you expect.”
His eyes wandered briefly to the globe. The snow had been bitterly cold during the scorched-earth retreat to Leningrad. He regained his concentration. “I am not threatening. If you don’t destroy your nuclear weapons, we are prepared to do it for you.”
“It’s not too late to stop this, Premier. Have you really considered that you might be triggering the destruction of the human race?”
“We have given this matter a great deal of serious thought. I hope you will now do the same and avoid senseless slaughter. If you haven’t complied with the terms of the memorandum within forty-five days, our naval forces will begin by destroying your missile submarines. Then, if necessary, we will destroy your land-based nuclear weapons. Any retaliation on your part will be crushed and punished.”
There was a pause by mutual consent. Words. Just words such as anyone could say. But because I am who I am, my words are magical spells that can unleash devastation. How can such power lie in two withered old hands? How can I wield it so perfunctorily? If I believed in a god, I would pray for a bloodless victory.
The President glanced off-camera and seemed to be listening to his unobtrusive earphone. Then he spoke. “Premier, because I know you are an intelligent and honorable man, I had hoped my hard-line advisers were wrong about your purpose. Unfortunately they weren’t. So from the highest motives, we are about to kill millions of people. It is my duty to inform you that a state of war now exists between our nations.”
He held in a bitter chuckle. “Empty formalities won’t change the facts. Time is short. May we please talk sense?”
The President looked even paler. “Yes, time is short. It has almost run out. For over half a century we have lived with the balance of terror. But now you have opted for all or nothing. You win or we win, or maybe everyone loses.”
He felt a sharp and totally irrational stab of uncertainty. It must be a bluff. General Zierten is positive they haven’t developed a means of counteracting Tsarina. “This isn’t a debate. We are discussing very real matters.”
“I know,” the American President agreed. “But your demands are based on incomplete information. Please listen carefully. You will have to act at once on what I tell you.”
It has to be a bluff. “Go ahead.”
“You were right that our political climate kept us from building our own particle-beam satellites. We realized the danger of that fact several years ago. What you didn’t realize—because we did a good job of keeping
it secret— was that we were developing a weapons system impervious to your Project Tsarina.”
“At the first sign of a disease or chemical attack, we will launch–”
“Nothing so unimaginative, Premier. The idea came from a Department of Energy project to develop an ultra-lightweight power source. When we realized its potential and evolved our plans, the actual engineering was done in Japan in cooperation with their Secret Service. Aside from being very capable, the Japanese are excellent at maintaining security. Aren’t they?”
“It is difficult to discover a weapon that exists only in your wishful thinking.”
The President picked up something from his desk and held it so that the Premier could see it.
It was a crystal globe filled with whirling snow. “I see you have a toy like this one on your desk too. Beautiful, isn’t it? Almost seductive.”
He glanced furtively to reassure himself that his globe was still on the desk, and then tried to hide his confusion. “You want me to believe this is some sort of weapon? You will have to do better than that. It was thoroughly scanned. It is nothing; a glass ball, some iron flakes, a battery and an electromagnet.”
“Yes, that is almost exactly what it is. You spent billions of rubles to create a perfect defense against strategic delivery systems. So we used the postal system. Thousands of these toys were mailed all over the Soviet Union. Most of them are as harmless as they look, like mine here. But a few hundred—yours, for instance—are different.”
He stared at the globe. The beauty of the swirling snowflakes had turned into a chill, ominous mystery.
There Will Be War Volume IV Page 6
