Dr. Strangelove

by Peter George

  General Turgidson smiled. ‘Well now, that’s impossible, Mister President. Look at the Big Board. Thirty-four planes attacking, thirty recalls acknowledged, four splashed, and one of those four was targeted for Laputa.’

  President Muffley said into his phone, ‘Hello, Dimitri? Yes, well look, we got an acknowledgment from every plane except the four you shot down... what do you mean three?... You mean it’s only damaged and still coming in?... I see, wait just a second will you?’ He looked again at Turgidson.

  There was a hum of talk round the table as the men there discussed this news.

  But Turgidson was unaffected. He was studying the Big Board. In his opinion the threat to America was increasing significantly. He ignored the President’s conversation about the fourth bomber which might be damaged but still flying and said, ‘Mister President, I should like to call your attention to the five hundred-plus enemy planes building up over the Arctic.’

  The President swung round in his chair and gave his full attention to the Big Board. As he turned, several of the displays changed, and both a bigger bomber threat and more submarines were shown on all sides of the North American continent.

  General Turgidson said loudly, ‘Mister President, I’m beginning to smell a big, fat, commie rat. Suppose Kissof is lying about that fourth plane, just looking for an excuse to clobber us. If the spaghetti hits the fan now, we’re really in trouble.’

  The President distractedly shrugged away Turgidson’s remark as he watched the display map of Russia. The thirty-four tracks which were previously displayed had been removed. But one track reappeared and continued on toward its primary and secondary targets.

  The President talked into his telephone again. ‘Hello?... Say, look, Dimitri, if this report is true, and if by some extremely unlikely possibility you are unable to destroy the plane before it bombs its target, I assume that such an isolated nuclear incident would not trigger off the Doomsday Machine?… It depends on the total megatonnage exploded? Well, the plane carries two 20-megaton bombs – how does that sound? What do you mean you’re not sure? General who isn’t there? Well, somebody else must know. You’re checking? All right, I’ll hold.’

  He looked again at the track approaching its target, then said in response to sound from the receiver, ‘What? What are we going to do if it doesn’t go off? Well, I should think we’d all breathe a profound sigh of relief... Oh, you mean what are we going to do about the damage? Well, naturally, we are prepared to pay full compensation. At least we’re lucky it’s just an isolated missile base, and that there aren’t a lot of people involved. I’d hate to have to equate human lives in dollars and cents... What? Where is it? Two miles from where?... No, I didn’t know. Our map shows only military targets. How many people? Two million seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand?’

  General Turgidson whispered suspiciously to the colonel at his side, ‘Have we got that place down as a two-point-seven-two megadeaths situation?’

  The President glanced at the North American threat display screen. It showed an increase in Russian build-up. He reached for his telephone again. ‘I must have your assurance that your government will not treat this as a hostile act. Well of course it’s not a friendly act, but I mean to say, this should not be treated as an act of war. Uh huh... What... What? Come on now, Dimitri, that’s a pretty inhuman sort of idea, isn’t it? Do you mean to say you actually expect us to let you take out Detroit? You must be out of your mind. You can’t just trade people like pieces on a chess board.’

  General Turgidson, who had moved behind the President during the conversation, shoved in front of him a loose leaf book entitled World Targets in Megadeaths. He pointed to a column headed ‘Equivalent Soviet and American Cities in Megadeaths.’

  The President pushed the book away and continued to speak to Premier Kissof. ‘What? Are you absolutely certain?... Well then, if the plane gets through we’ve had it! You’re positive it’s set to go off on ten megatons?’ He sighed. ‘Okay, I guess we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed and concentrate on getting that plane.’

  He passed the phone to Staines, who covered the mouthpiece with his hand. Then he turned to General Turgidson. ‘Is there really a chance for that plane to get through?’

  Turgidson looked quickly at the Russian Ambassador, breathed heavily, then said, ‘Mister President, if I can speak freely now, sir. The Russkie talks big, but frankly we think he’s short of know-how. I mean you just can’t take a bunch of ignorant peasants and expect them to understand a machine like one of our boys.’ He glanced again at De Sadeski. ‘And I don’t mean that as an insult, Ambassador. Hell, we all know what kind of guts a Russkie has. Just look how many millions of them those Nazis killed, and hell, they still wouldn’t quit.’

  The President said sharply, ‘General, stick to the point, please.’

  Turgidson was becoming excited now. This was a subject he knew. This was something on which he was an expert. ‘Well sir, if the pilot’s really a good man, I mean really sharp, hell, he can barrel that plane along so low, well, I mean, you’ve just got to see it sometime. A real big plane like a fifty-two, its jet exhaust frying chickens in the barnyard...’

  ‘Has he a chance?’ the President cut in.

  General Turgidson was now almost feverish with excitement. He said loudly, ‘Has he a chance? Hell, yes. He has one hell of a chance.’

  Turgidson looked round the table. As he saw the gloom on the faces of the men there, he realised suddenly the implications of what he had said.

  The President looked at the displays, then said with quiet dignity, ‘Now wait a minute, wait a minute, I think I might just have an idea how to get the recall signal to them.’

  He picked up his phone. ‘Well, Dimitri, I guess you’re just going to have to stop the plane. Dimitri, I’m sorry they’re jamming your radar and flying low, but I mean, they’re trained that way, you know. Look Dimitri, you know exactly where they’re going and I’m sure your entire air defence can pull in a single plane... I... Dimitri, if our air staff says its primary target is Laputa and its secondary target is Borchav, you can believe it... well I mean, it’s not going to help either one of us if the Doomsday Machine goes off, now is it?... Dimitri, there’s absolutely no point in getting hysterical at a time like this. Will you listen to me, Dimitri? Dimitri, can I give you a word of advice? Dimitri, will you lis... Dimitri, can I give you... can I... Dimitri... Dimitri, can I give you a word of advice? Look, put everything you’ve got in those two sectors and you can’t miss... Well, we’ll keep our fingers crossed, and remember, Dimitri, we’re all in this thing together. I mean, we’re right behind you, Dimitri.’

  The President lit a cigarette as he listened to the Russian Premier. Then he said indignantly, ‘What do you mean, two months behind?… Oh I see, you mean the cloud of radioactivity will reach us two months after you?… You do? Well, Dimitri, I don’t think that’s a very nice thing to say... Well I know it wasn’t a nice thing to do, but I didn’t do it, Dimitri, it wasn’t me... Dimitri, all right, so he was one of our generals... But this kind of attitude won’t help either of us. Listen, Dimitri, I have been consulting one of my generals... no, not the general who sent them in, and he suggested something which gave me an idea... Well, do you want to hear it? It’s a great idea. Now listen, Dimitri, as well as concentrating all the defences you got on those two sectors, why don’t you order your searchlights... you do have searchlights?... You do, well that’s great, why not order all your searchlights to signal the recall code to the plane? They’re bound to see it, and those boys are well trained. They’ll turn back.’

  Doctor Strangelove looked thoughtfully at the President as he replaced the phone. He did not think those fools would ever succeed in destroying the last plane. He looked away and concentrated more than ever on his scheme to save at least a nucleus of specimens of the human race.

  LEPER COLONY

  King said, ‘Awright, she’s flyin’ an’ I can hold her. Sweets, you remember when we
were out with those crazy mixed-up fellas from 827 Bomb Wing?’

  Sweets said, ‘Yeah, King, I remember.’

  ‘Now seems to me one of their targets was around this neighbourhood.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ He leaned forward. ‘I’ll check the map.’

  ‘Check the fuel first,’ King said. ‘Gimme exactly how many air miles we got left.’

  Sweets said instantly, ‘I just checked, King. One hundred twenty as of now.’

  Beside him Lothar Zogg nodded silent agreement.

  Sweets looked at the map, then said, ‘Got it right here. No name, just listed as Missile Complex 69. That was the place, I’m sure.’

  ‘Range?’

  Sweets said, ‘Ninety miles.’

  ‘Gimme a course.’

  ‘Two-eight-zero,’ Sweets said instantly. ‘Should take you right in.’

  ‘Two-eight-zero,’ King repeated, and leaned forward to adjust his gyros. He lifted the bomber over rising ground as he straightened from the turn.

  Sweets said, ‘We’ve got easy ground between here and the target, King. Nothing above a few hundred feet.’

  ‘Awright,’ King said. ‘Here we go, boys.’

  Lothar Zogg said, ‘King, what if the 827 Bomb Wing already hit that target?’

  ‘They won’t,’ King said. ‘They’re about six hours behind us. They’ll probably decide to take out Laputa. That answer you?’

  ‘That answers me.’ Lothar looked in the locker under his table.

  He took from it a thick folder and quickly riffled through the transparencies in it. He selected four of them and looked at them critically in the light of his radarscope. He said, ‘I got it.’

  King said, ‘Okay, Lothar.’

  Lothar Zogg fitted one of the transparencies to his scope. ‘Looks good, King. Nice clean picture.’

  King said, ‘Goldy, kin you get off a message sayin’ we diverted to hit Missile Complex 69?’

  Goldberg said quickly, ‘I can’t, King.’

  ‘Why in hell not?’

  ‘Won’t transmit, like I told you. Reason is the wiring’s all gone.’

  ‘Okay,’ King said philosophically. ‘Don’t matter much anyway. Lothar, get them bomb doors open when Sweets says we’re eighty miles from target.’

  ‘Sure, King.’

  THE WAR ROOM

  There was an atmosphere of gloom in the big room. Some people were sitting around the table, others were at the long table, listlessly picking at food from the dishes there.

  The President lit another cigarette. He had already exceeded his quota, but he ignored this.

  Staines said urgently, ‘Sir, Premier Kissof is on the line again.’

  The President quickly lifted his phone. He said, ‘Hello, Dimitri. You did what? How did that happen... Well, never mind, hold on a minute, will you?’ He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and said to General Turgidson, ‘They say they’ve lost the bomber.’

  Turgidson said, ‘Mister President, you don’t surprise me. I told you that those boys low down would be mighty difficult to track.’

  The President said, ‘Hello, Dimitri, you still there?... Yes, well we knew it was going to be difficult, Dimitri, but there’s still a chance... Come on now, Dimitri, there’s still a chance.’

  On the Big Board the track predicted for Leper Colony continued on toward its primary target.

  The President spoke into his phone again. ‘Dimitri, you there?’

  Doctor Strangelove, his eyes gleaming, was busily making calculations on a scratch pad. He felt sure now that he had the answer. He multiplied and divided, added and subtracted, checked and rechecked, until he was certain his answer was correct.

  As Strangelove worked, the President listened to Premier Kissof’s voice and the translation. Then he said, ‘We’ve done all that, Dimitri. Please believe me. That is its target... sure they’ll understand it if they see the code flashed at them... well of course I know, I have all my advisers round me now, and they’re the best in the world... Well I’m sorry, Dimitri, I don’t mean that exactly, but you know what I mean? All right, in America then, now don’t let’s fall out about small things now, Dimitri... All right, I’ll wait for your news.’

  The President replaced his telephone and sat back in his seat. At this moment there was nothing more he could do.

  LEPER COLONY

  The wind blowing in through the many holes in Leper Colony chilled the flight deck with its icy blast. But King was sweating, both because of the physical effort needed to control the heavy bomber so close to the deck, and the concentration needed to take them successfully to their target.

  He lifted the bomber gently over a high incline, then let down to the deck again. His flying was smooth and precise, the flying of a man absolutely determined he would reach his target.

  Sweets Kivel said, ‘We’re right on track, King. ETA about nine minutes. You have a clear run now, nothing above one hundred feet.’

  ‘That’s great,’ King said. ‘We’re gonna make it, fellas.’

  Sweets said, ‘We got fuel for twelve minutes.’

  ‘Roger.’

  King considered exactly what he should do. He was thinking about this when Lothar Zogg broke in, ‘Major Kong.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘There’s something wrong with the bomb-bay doors.’

  ‘What are you talkin’ about?’

  ‘They’re stuck tight. I can’t get ‘em open.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They must be damaged.’

  ‘That’s impossible!’

  ‘I’ve tried everything. But the bomb-door warning light keeps flashing.’

  ‘Lieutenant Zogg, if this is some kind of a trick, you’ll spend the rest of your life in a federal prison!’

  ‘Major, I’ve tried everything, including emergency power.’

  ‘You open them doors! You hear me?’

  ‘I can’t! Why don’t you come down and see for yourself?’

  King said sharply, ‘Dietrich!’

  Dietrich came forward. He said, ‘What’s up?’

  ‘You think you can keep this on two-eight-zero and not clip any treetops?’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  Dietrich slid into King’s seat and took over. He had received enough initial training as co-pilot to fly the bomber while it was airborne. He could not have taken off or landed; but he could keep it flying in an emergency. He looked ahead anxiously as King went down the compartment hatch.

  King arrived in the bomb-navigator section of the lower deck. He said, ‘Let’s see.’

  Lothar looked up at him and moved to the left to let King see the equipment. He said, ‘Try it yourself.’

  King flipped the switches controlling the bomb doors. The lights indicated a negative response.

  King looked round the lower deck. He saw a fire hatchet clipped to the side of the bomber and grabbed it. Then he kicked open a small door in the rear of the section.

  He said, ‘I’m goin’ down there.’

  Lothar Zogg said, ‘That’s dangerous, King. If those doors open you’re liable to fall out.’

  ‘That’s right, an’ I guess that’s a chance I got to take.’

  THE WAR ROOM

  General Turgidson’s phone sounded. He picked it up. He listened, then said abruptly, ‘I told you not to call me at this number.’

  He heard Miss Foreign Affairs saying, ‘I’m sorry, Buck, but are you going to be much longer?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘what do you want me to do?’

  Turgidson looked around the table. He did not think anyone was watching him. He said quietly, ‘Watch television.’

  Miss Foreign Affairs said plaintively, ‘But, Buck, the late late show has been over for hours... you know, Buck, I don’t think you really love me at all, I don’t think you miss me at all. I don’t think you respect me either... No you don’t, it’s just physical.’

  Turgidson breathed heavily, and sa
id, ‘Now look, baby, I’ve told you not to call me here... and it isn’t just physical. No, it is not! Goddammit, it’s not just physical, kitten. Now go watch television.’

  He slammed the phone down and smiled at the President, who was watching the Big Board.

  LEPER COLONY

  Major King Kong slid open the trap door and dropped to the floor of the vast bomb bay. The two bombs, Lolita and Hi-There, were taller than he, though they were lying horizontally.

  King chopped at the bomb doors with his hatchet, chopped at the locks and hinges, stamped on the doors, and kicked and beat them, trying to force them loose. But they were tightly shut.

  He swept his arm across his forehead to remove the sweat which was trickling down into his eyes. His vision cleared, and in front of him he saw the sign which read NUCLEAR WARHEADS – HANDLE WITH CARE.

  He tried again to force the doors loose, but they refused to open.

  Lothar Zogg, looking down into the bomb bay, said, ‘King?’

  ‘I’m awright,’ King said irritably. ‘But these bomb doors are stuck tighter than Dick’s hatband.’

  He began to climb the ladder, then turned back to the bombs and patted both of them affectionately. He said, ‘Don’t worry, ole buddies. You’ll make it.’

  Lothar helped him up to the cabin.

  King said, ‘Thanks, Lothar.’

  Lothar Zogg beamed and said, ‘That’s okay, King.’

  King patted Lothar on the shoulder and moved up and forward to the flight deck.

  Dietrich pulled back on the controls and took the bomber three hundred feet higher as he made room for King. He said, ‘Everything’s okay, King.’

  King slid in the seat, and checked the instruments rapidly. He said, ‘Sweets, how long till we hit the primary?’