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BOOK
THIRTEEN
34
Finale
When he heard the alarm go off and saw the colored lamps on the mechanism blinking, the President was pleased with himself for having set something in motion and sat back beaming with self-satisfaction until it dawned on him that he did not know how to stop what he had started. He pressed one button after another to no avail. As he was about to call for help, help came crashing in: Noodles Cook, the stout man from the State Department whose name never came readily to mind, his slim aide from the National Security Council, Skinny, and that general from the air force newly promoted to the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
"What happened?" screamed General Bingam, with a horror-stricken countenance inflamed with confusion.
"It works," said the President, with a grin. "You see? Just like the game here."
"Who's attacking us?"
"When did it begin?"
"Is someone attacking us?" asked the President.
"You launched all our missiles!"
"You sent out our planes!"
"I did? Where?"
"Everywhere! With that red button you kept pressing."
"This one? I didn't know that."
"Don't touch it again!"
"How was I supposed to know? Call them all back. Say I'm sorry. I didn't do it on purpose."
"We can't call back the missiles."
"We can call back the bombers."
"We can't call back the bombers! Suppose someone retaliates? We have to take them out first."
"I didn't know that."
"And we'll have to send out our second-strike bombers too, in case they want to hit back after our first."
"Come on, sir. We have to hurry."
"Where to?"
"Underground. To the shelters. Triage--don't you remember?"
"Sure. I was playing that one before I switched to this one."
"Damn it, sir! What the hell are you smiling about?"
"There's nothing fucking funny about this!"
"How was I supposed to know?"
"Let's move! We are the ones who have to survive."
