Conjuring Dreams or Learning to Write by Writing

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  "Hey, everybody in musicland. This is Buddy Spalding of WKOK in DC. Hey, the Surgeon General says being near your local fallout shelter is best for your health as things are getting hot, hot, hot. I'm on my way but first I gotta play something hot, hot, hot on DC's hottest station . . ."

  2210122111002121121111012100221211 . . .

  "This is not a drill! Please go to the nearest fallout shelter. Nuclear missiles have been launched. This is not a drill . . ."

  But in a way, it was, and, as people woke up and looked at their world, still intact, the real war began . . .

  "Comrade Nenchenko?"

  "Solonov, you have a great deal to explain! Why did our missiles not go off? Why did they not hit their targets? Why were no missiles launched from our space silos?"

  Solonov calmly took a seat and half-smiled at the Soviet head's furiously red face. "Because, Comrade Nenchenko," Solonov said slowly, drawing out the Premier's name to insult him, "I neutered them, as you would a dog. Fixed. And I made certain that they were maintained in their defunct state with everything but their nuclear elements in perfect working order. Programmed to go where I wanted, where they would do no harm, kill no innocents, the poisons in them dismantled."

  "You're insane!" Nenchenko whispered, sinking into his chair.

  "Am I? Or am I the only sane man in the Kremlin? . . . "

  "You what?!" Senator Carmidy gasped and then held up his hand to stop his committee from bombarding Ryan's head with questions, while glaring at the unrepentant Dr. Isaac Ryan.

  "I said I fixed them as you would your amorous Fido and then I made sure that every single one of them went off—relatively harmlessly."

  "Who gave you that power?"

  "You're trying to ask me who gave me that authority because you gave me the power. Of course, I had the power. My team designed the computer system, and we maintained silos and submarine missiles. Hell, we trained the men who ran them and you can bet they ended up fighting for our cause because they're intelligent and caring men. Those who didn't were 'screened out.' My men would die for our cause—don't you think they would have fired at my command?"

  "You goddamned traitor . . ."

  "I'm a traitor, you selfish power-hungry dog?" snarled Solonov, rising from his chair like a lithe panther, eyes once more gleaming in their frightening way. And, now, the Premier was frightened. "You self-righteous piece of shit! I saved the Soviet Union you tried to kill!"

  "You betrayed your country," Nenchenko declared but his voice weakened as Solonov approached. He was greatly regretting his desire to interrogate Solonov alone.

  Solonov grabbed him by the neck of his jacket and, pulling aside the blind, shoved Nenchenko's face against the frosty window. "That's the Soviet Union! You think it's you, don't you? You, with your fat belly and smelly hair. You think you're the Soviet Union!" He spat. "You're nothing. Every citizen of the lowest standing in Russia is better than you. They are the Soviet Union—they are Soviets. Without them, there is nothing to unite."

  "I could call in the guards."

  "But do you want them to hear what I'm saying? If you want to live, you will listen to me."

  With his last bit of bravado, Nenchenko sneered, "But you are a traitor."

  Solonov let go of Nenchenko's collar and gestured to the window, saying softly, "I saved them. I am a hero . . ."

  "'A hero?' A madman—" the chairman began.

  "I am not the madman! You decreed the death penalty on an entire planet—and I saved it. You ordered the deaths of billions of people, millions of Americans, and I saved all but 180 American lives. Don't call me a criminal—you are the murderers."

  "We are not on trial, Ryan—"

  "You have already been convicted, but we'll let you plea bargain for your lives. You can die . . ."

  "Or you can relinquish your government to us. Completely," Solonov purred, smiling his icy smile.

  "You are mad!" said Nenchenko, staring as if at some horrible sight. "You are more in danger of death than I."

  "I am only in danger for the moment, because you are ignorant and stupid. Who do you think holds the controls of the last remaining nuclear weapons, the only viable ones? The instant I die—and my people will know—the Kremlin will be destroyed by the missiles you were kind enough to put into orbit for me. Believe me, those warheads work. If I die, or if I don't contact our leader within two hours with your surrender, Red Square will be a charred hole. You decide. And don't think of escape. We know your hiding places."

  "You bluff. If I kill you, your organization will crumble."

  "I am not the leader. There is someone, several people, to take my place."

  "You cannot kill me without killing yourself!"

  "Can you really believe I am afraid to die?" Solonov laughed, his eyes gleaming.

  "I couldn't give you my power if I wanted to," Nenchenko whimpered.

  "Of course you can. You and every high-ranking official will simply abdicate all power over to me, and we'll do the rest . . ."

  "That's preposterous! Our constituents would rebel! They would never stand for a dictatorship! Not Americans!"

  "They would if they knew we were the ones who saved all of their lives. They will when they realize that every ounce of nuclear weaponry is in our hands alone as well as a satellite much more effective at stopping nuclear aggression than you were led to believe. The people won't howl for long either. We're changing the future."

  Carmidy snorted. "The Soviets own that satellite. Do you think they will bow down to you too?"

  "Yes, just as you will eventually. Solonov built that satellite just like I built ours. Right now, he's probably having the same conversation with Nenchenko, just as Dr. Lee is in China. We control all the power. Now, we could destroy you and be no worse off, but that's not what we'd like to do. We're tired of the killing. Destruction is a bad precedent, but we'll use it if we have to."

  "So, you joined forces with the Soviets against us and don't call yourself a traitor. You blackmail your own government and call us criminals. Threats! Promises! Insanity!"

  "You still won't understand, caught up in stereotypes. This is bigger than Russia or China or the United States. This is mankind and we need to save it."

  "We, we, we. Who are these people? Who is your unnamed leader? Solonov? Are you only the puppet of a Soviet?"

  From the doorway came a soft voice, "No, he is my friend. I am the creator and instigator of Operation Terminal Beach." President Samuelson stepped lightly in and stood behind his co-patriot. "You will abdicate all power to me and my organization and we will make a new United Nations unlike any dreamt of before, stronger than any one nation because it alone will have the power of total destruction. You will abdicate or you will die—murderers. Either way, we will win. You, and every Congressman, Secretary, Justice of the Supreme Court, General—everyone of power, including myself, will resign leaving all power to us and we will start over."

  "You couldn't get one nation to join your twisted UN!"

  "England, Japan, Canada and most Western Europe and South American countries have already been contacted and eagerly joined, without coercion. I don't think you realize how you've scared the rest of the world. The Soviet Union will crumble as will China, as you will, and the Eastern Bloc countries will follow. It will be shared ultimate power."

  Senator Carmidy stared at the President in horror.

  "Don't you see, Senator Carmidy, we are working for mankind—all mankind. Someone has to or there won't be any mankind. We must realize that there is but one race, one planet. Scientists discovered that long ago. Every science community is a mix of race, nationality and gender. We know what we have to do to survive; we finally have to take responsibility for our technology and not let it destroy us. We would like your help in helping us thrive and not just survive. We're just scientists who want a place for our children to grow up. Someone has to look past the election date. We will."

  S
enator Carmidy, a former cop who'd managed to make a bid for and hold a seat in Congress despite his honesty and dedication, bowed his head, then raised it slightly, looking old and beaten, but still proud. "How can we trust you?"

  "Have we not already saved you once? We want a happy peaceful planet, full of living, happy human beings. Is anything too extreme to achieve that?"

  "I am proud to be an American and a human being. If I cannot approve of your methods, how can I trust you to do as you promise, to not become obsessed with power?"

  "We've had the power since long ago to take the world. We did it this way because we wanted it intact and alive. We cannot make you trust us, but we can point out you have no choice. We want your help because we want a good life for the world. We need it because we are only scientists with no experience at social and financial issues. We need your help, but we don't have to have it. You can help us and help us make the world we dream of, that you dream of, or you can turn away and die, and leave the world in our inexperienced hands. The choice is yours."

  The Senator closed his eyes and made his choice. "I cannot speak for my fellow politicians, but I will help you—if only for the sake of the children." With those words, he stepped down from his seat to stand behind the President.

  212201212110221110122110121121200001 . . .

  It was the year 0000 AW. Time to start the world afresh.