by Peter George
Inside General Ripper’s office, the marks of combat were showing. Occasional bursts of automatic fire had blasted into the room, into the walls, and across the pictures and decorations which hung on the walls. Now they were damaged and twisted, and the floor of the room was littered with pieces of wallboard and broken glass.
Ripper and Mandrake sat protected by the General’s desk. Their glasses were beside them on the carpet, and Ripper was nursing a 30-calibre Browning air-cooled machine gun across his knees.
His expression was determined, and as he listened to the noise of the fighting out on the base, he nodded with approval. He said, ‘The boys are doing good, Group Captain. Real good.’
‘Why yes,’ Mandrake said, ‘they certainly are.’ He ducked involuntarily as another burst of fire crashed into the room.
Ripper raised his glass, drank slowly, and said, ‘Group Captain Mandrake, have you ever seen a Russian drink a glass of water?’
‘No, sir, I don’t believe I ever have.’
‘Vodka. That’s what they drink, isn’t it? Never water.’
‘Well, I – I can’t really say, sir.’
‘On no account will a Russian ever drink water, and not without good reason.’
Mandrake looked at Ripper anxiously. He could not understand this emphasis on fluid and water. But Ripper appeared to be perfectly composed. Mandrake said, ‘I’m afraid I don’t quite see what you’re getting at, sir.’
Ripper removed his cigar from his mouth and waved it at Mandrake. ‘Water! That’s what I’m getting at, water! Water is the source of all life. Four-fifths of the surface of the earth is water, ninety-eight per cent of the human body is water. As human beings we require fresh, pure water to replenish our precious bodily fluids. Are you beginning to understand, Group Captain?’
‘No, sir, I’m afraid I can’t say that I am.’
‘Have you never wondered why I drink only distilled water, or rain water, and only pure grain alcohol?’
Mandrake said, ‘Yes, sir, I have wondered – yes.’
Ripper looked at his empty glass gloomily. He held it out to Mandrake, who scrambled on his knees across the floor for a refill.
Ripper said, ‘Have you ever heard of a thing called fluoridation, Group Captain, fluoridation of water?’
Mandrake paused to consider the question, then replied, ‘Yes, I think so, sir. Isn’t that something that has to do with teeth? I mean, isn’t it supposed to keep you from getting cavities or something like that?’
Again a burst of fire splashed across the room. Mandrake crawled back to Ripper.
The general said, ‘That sounded close. Now you just help me with this machine gun, Group Captain. Feed the belt of ammunition to me as I fire. There’s some joker outside our window pouring it in.’
He cocked the gun with a jerk of his powerful hands, fed the first cartridge into the breech, and worked the cocking device again. ‘Here we go,’ he said, stood up and advanced toward the window, with Mandrake crouching beside him ready to help the ammunition feed into the gun.
The general instantly saw the target he had been seeking, where a sniper had positioned himself on the building opposite the office. He opened fire, his massive form vibrating as the heavy machine gun bucked and kicked in his hands. Mandrake, still crouching, held the ammunition belt straight to feed the rounds into the gun. The noise inside the office was deafening as Ripper fired burst after burst, and soon the carpet was littered thickly with empty bullet cases.
Ripper ceased firing for a moment, stared out through the shuttered windows, then put in another long burst. Again he ceased fire and said to Mandrake with satisfaction, ‘That’s done it. I got him.’ They both sat down on the floor and Ripper picked up his glass with his right hand while still clutching the machine gun with his left.
He said, ‘Like I was saying, Group Captain, fluoridation of water is the most monstrously conceived and dangerous communist plot we have ever had to face. The fluorides form a basis of insecticides, fungicides, and rodent poisons. They pollute our precious bodily fluids! They clog them, Group Captain! Our precious bodily fluids become thick and rancid.’
Mandrake said thoughtfully, ‘Well, sir, I should have thought the scientists had checked it. At least that’s what one reads.’
Ripper smiled. ‘Precisely, Group Captain. In order to realise the fantastic extent of communist infiltration, one has only to count the number of scientists, educators, public health officials, congressmen and senators who are behind it. The facts are all there, Group Captain!’
Ripper leaned his machine gun against the desk and crawled over to a drawer. He opened it and pulled out a thick file. As he crept back to where Mandrake sat, a burst of automatic fire splattered across the wall. But Ripper was oblivious to it.
He said, ‘I have studied the facts carefully for over seventeen years, and they’re all here.’ He tapped the file. ‘I have watched this thing grow since the end of World War Two to the incredible proportions it has reached today. I have studied the facts, Group Captain, facts, and by projecting the statistics I realised the time had come to act. I realised I had to act before the entire will and vitality of the free Western world was sapped and polluted and clotted and made rancid by this diabolical substance, fluoride. The absolutely fantastic thing is that the facts are all there for anyone who wants to see them. Do you know any facts about fluorides, Group Captain Mandrake?’
Mandrake stroked his moustache. He said, ‘Well, not actually, sir.’ Outside, the sound of firing was heavier now. It seemed to Mandrake that it was getting closer too.
Ripper patted Mandrake’s shoulder with his big hand. He said affectionately, ‘You’re a good officer, Group Captain. Loyal. From here on in you do not call me sir, you understand. You call me Jack, and that’s an order.’
Mandrake looked uneasy. Things like this simply did not happen in the Royal Air Force. But an order was an order. He gulped some of his drink and said, ‘I understand... Jack.’
Ripper said, ‘That’s right. That’s my name. Jack.’ He listened attentively to the sounds of firing outside, then turned to Mandrake again. ‘And those are my boys out there. They’re fighting. They’re dying for me, you know that.’
‘And I’m sure they’re proud and pleased to do it,’ Mandrake said warmly, ‘every man jack of them, er, Jack.’
‘I’m glad to hear you say that,’ Ripper said. ‘What were we talking about?’
‘Well actually you were asking me if I knew any facts about fluorides.’
Ripper inclined his massive head. ‘Well now,’ he said, ‘the facts are simple. Fluorine belongs to the halogen group, that is group seven of the period tables. It is the most active of all elements. It is transmitted from the mother to the foetus through the placenta, and it is also present in the breast milk. It is also found in the human body in bones, teeth, thyroid, hair, liver, kidneys, skin, nails, wool, feathers, horns, hooves and scales.’
Mandrake looked at the general closely. Ripper’s face was calm and reposed, but a small tic was apparent under his left eye. He said, ‘Yes, Jack, I see.’
Then Ripper went on. ‘Group Captain, I have been following this thing very carefully for years, ever since the commies introduced it. The facts are all there if anyone takes the trouble to study them. Did you know that in addition to fluoridating water there are studies under way to fluoridate salt, flour, fruit juices, soup, sugar, milk, and ice cream! Ice cream, Group Captain. Children’s ice cream! Do you know when fluoridation first began, Group Captain?’
‘No, I can’t say that I do, Jack.’
Ripper removed his cigar from his mouth and carefully inspected the glowing tip. He said slowly, ‘It began in 1946. You see the significance?’
Mandrake said, ‘Well...’
Ripper went on. ‘Nineteen forty-six, Group Captain. How does that coincide with the post-war communist conspiracy? Incredibly obvious, isn’t it? A foreign substance is introduced into the precious bodily fluids, without
the knowledge of the individual and certainly without any free choice. That’s the way the commies work...’
Mandrake thought about it for a moment. Then he said, ‘Jack, can I ask you a question?’
Ripper waved his cigar in a magnanimous gesture. ‘Sure, Group Captain, you’re a good officer.’
‘Jack, when did you first develop this, er, theory about fluoridation?’
Ripper said, ‘It’s not a theory. It is an awareness of an absolute certainty.’
‘Yes, I see that, Jack, but when did you first become aware of this?’
Ripper appeared not to have heard the question. He was staring at the opposite wall. Mandrake repeated the question.
Ripper’s eyes slowly turned toward Mandrake. He said, ‘Have you ever loved a woman, Group Captain? Physically loved her?’
Mandrake had no chance to reply before Ripper went on. ‘There’s a feeling of loss, a profound sense of emptiness. Luckily, however, I was able to interpret the signs correctly. It was a loss of essence. But I can assure you it has not recurred, Group Captain. Women sense my power, and they seek me out. I do not avoid women, Group Captain.’ His voice became louder. ‘But I deny them my life essence.’
Mandrake chewed thoughtfully on his moustache. He did not know what to say to the General, who had resumed his survey of the wall. He was saved from any necessity to reply by a sudden silence which had fallen over the base. He had been aware during the past few minutes that firing was sputtering out, and now it had finally ceased.
Ripper became aware of it too. He crossed to the window and looked out through the shattered blinds. In the distance he saw a squad of soldiers marching a party of base security troops, weaponless and with their hands clasped over their heads, into a hangar. He turned away from the window. Mandrake moved over toward him. Ripper’s face was ravaged, the face of a man grown suddenly old. The tic beneath his left eye was more pronounced now. He said, ‘They’ve surrendered.’
LEPER COLONY
King finished the descent and looked out at the terrain passing underneath them. There was snow on the ground, and on both sides of them there were peaks much higher than they were.
But Sweets Kivel had navigated accurately. The high ground was not in front of them. King concentrated on flying the bomber, determined he would take it through to the target. He said, ‘You got the next headin’, Sweets?’
Lieutenant Kivel looked down at his chart, picked up his computer and began to figure. He said, ‘Yeah, King, one-eight-four.’ He busied himself with the computer again.
King said, ‘Hey, Dietrich, how’s Ace doin’ back there – and how’s the ECM?’
Dietrich said, ‘Both doing great, King.’ He looked at the ECM panel, made small adjustments, then said, ‘ECM in good shape, King. Goldberg’s going to see Ace.’
Goldberg left his seat and moved forward to Ace’s bunk.
Ace looked up at him. ‘How you doing, Goldy?’
‘I’m fine,’ Goldberg said. ‘And you, Ace?’
Ace said, ‘I’m okay, Goldy.’
Goldberg leaned over and dabbed the sweat on Ace’s forehead with his clean handkerchief. Ace closed his eyes and snuggled down in the bunk to go to sleep.
Goldberg watched him for a second, then went back to his position. He talked on the intercom to King. ‘King, are you there?’
‘Now, Goldy,’ King said, ‘where in hell did ya think I’d be? Sure I’m here, you just tell me what’s on your mind.’
Lieutenant Goldberg said, ‘King, I just looked at Ace. He don’t look too good. But I think he’ll live.’
‘Well, that’s fine, because he’s comin’ with us on the biggest thing ever. On a nu-clear strike against the Russkies.’
Goldberg said, ‘Okay, King, whatever you say.’ He turned back to the bunk where Ace lay, reached forward, and touched him on the head.
Ace Owens said, ‘Thanks, Goldy, you’re a pal.’
Lieutenant Goldberg stood for a second, then turned and went back to his position in front of the shattered radio. He said, ‘Like I told you, I don’t think we’ll get much out of this. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so.’
King, who was concentrating on pushing the bomber in over the coast, had time to reply to Goldberg. He said, ‘Whaddya mean, Goldy, where’s the trouble?’
Goldberg said, ‘King, I’m telling you the radio is out. I can’t repair it, and I think it won’t be any more use.’
Goldberg switched off his microphone and looked down at the graphs which detailed the radio frequencies of the planes entering Russia and the defences they would have to encounter. He switched on his microphone again and said, ‘All checks are made on ECM procedures.’
THE WAR ROOM
The buzz of chatter among the officers and officials in the War Room suddenly ceased. Staines’s voice came clearly, and was heard by them all. ‘Mister President, they’ve got the Premier on the line. His interpreter is with him. He’ll shoot a simultaneous translation from you to the Premier, and vice versa.’
The President took a deep breath and held out his hand for the phone. Around the table the group hastily took their seats and twenty-three hands reached for twenty-three extension phones.
The President said, ‘Hello? Hello? Dimitri, is this you?’ He paused for the answer then went on. ‘Yes, this is Merkin, how are you?’
This time the pause was longer before the President continued. ‘Oh, fine, just fine, thank you. Look, I’m awfully sorry to bother you at that number.’ The receiver crackled. The President went on. ‘Oh, oh, yes, the Ambassador gave it to me... What’s that? Oh, I get you, yes, well, maybe next time I come to Moscow.’
Again the Russian Premier replied, and the President waited for him to finish. Then he said, ‘Yes, I’ll sure look forward to that. But right now I have Ambassador De Sadeski with me, and I’ve brought him up to date on a certain problem which I’ll describe to you in a second, but first I want him to say hello so you’ll know he’s here.’
When he had finished speaking, the President covered the telephone with his hand and motioned to De Sadeski. He said quietly, ‘Tell him where you are and that you will enter into the conversation if I say anything untrue. But please don’t tell him any more than that.’
De Sadeski said, ‘Yes, but I don’t have a phone.’ The President waved his hand impatiently. ‘Give him your phone, Staines.’
Staines did not appear pleased by this order. He handed his telephone stiffly to De Sadeski, who sank into Staines’s chair. Staines moved away and crowded a colonel to hear on his earphone.
Ambassador De Sadeski spoke in Russian, volubly and at length. None of those around the table could understand Russian, but all of them heard several times a reference to what could have been Merkin Muffley.
The Ambassador finished his speech, waited for the reply, and then nodded grimly to the President.
‘I have done as you asked, but be careful, Mister President, I think he’s drunk.’ He followed these remarks with a few choice Russian words which fortunately no one present could understand.
The President’s voice when he spoke was soft and persuasive. ‘Hello? Yes, it’s me again, Dimitri. What? Say, look, I can’t hear you too well. Do you suppose they could turn that music down?’ He laughed shortly. ‘Sure, I understand. Yes, that’s much better.’
A few seconds went by while he wondered exactly how to phrase his next remarks. He preceded them with a forced, nervous laugh. ‘Look, Dimitri, you know how we’ve always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the bomb?’ His cold made his pronunciation unclear and he hastily reached for a handkerchief as a query came back over the phone.
‘The bomb, Dimitri, yes, well you know, the hydrogen bomb!... That’s right. Well, apparently one of our base commanders suffered some sort of mental breakdown and ordered his planes to attack your country.’ He held the earphone slightly away from him as there was a series of loud noises from the other end.
Admiral Ra
ndolph glanced across at General Turgidson, who raised his eyes expressively toward the ceiling.
The President said, ‘Well look, let me finish... let me finish... let me finish, Dimitri. That’s right, a total of thirty-four planes, but they won’t reach their targets for another hour.’ He glanced quickly at General Turgidson, who nodded. ‘That’s right, an hour.’
Again a blast of vituperation came into his ear. He said indignantly, ‘Well, how do you think I feel about this? Why do you think I’m calling you... no, it is not. It’s most certainly not a trick. Look, I’ve been over all this with your Ambassador, and I repeat, it is not a trick. We’ve been trying to recall them but there’s a problem about the code... That’s right, the code to recall them. You’ll have to trust me on this, Dimitri, it’s too complicated to explain. All right, sure I’ll listen to you.’
He clicked his fingers at one of the aides, who stepped forward with a cigarette and placed it between the President’s lips, then held a cigarette lighter for him. The President inhaled deeply, and blew out a cloud of smoke. His hand was shaking slightly as the voice of the Premier finished.
The President said, ‘What are you talking about? I don’t see why this thing has to mean the end of the world. Come on, don’t talk like that, Dimitri. That’s not very constructive.’
Again Turgidson smiled his tight smile. He felt he quite liked the way the conversation was going. He glanced at the Big Board, noting how far the tracks had now encroached on Russia, and noting too the steady build-up of SAC wings heading north and the tankers heading for the refuelling areas. He picked up his telephone and began to talk quietly to the SAC commander at Offutt.
The President broke in on the Premier. He said loudly, ‘Look, Dimitri, we’re wasting time. We’d like to give your staff a complete rundown on the targets and on the flight plans and on the defence systems of the planes... that’s right, if we’re unable to recall the planes then I’d say we must help to destroy them, and we will do this. But who should my staff call?’