"If there were," Lizard said, "don't you think we'd be arguing for it?"
"I don't know."
"Trust me." She put her hand on my shoulder and looked straight into my face. "I may need to call on you. All I want you to do is tell the truth. Tell everything you've seen, everything you know about the worms. That's all."
"Why me? You've got Dr. Zymph here."
"Dr. Zymph has never been out in the field. Not like you have. You've put your life on the line. She hasn't. You've seen things she hasn't. She can talk about the ecology-she's an incredible theoretician-but you can tell us what it feels like. You know the experience of it. You've come face to face with it. That's what we need to bring into this conference. A little terror."
"Like the Chtorran in the auditorium?"
Lizard didn't blink. "If that's what it takes, yes."
"Do I have a political position?" I asked.
"Beg pardon?"
"What side am I on?" I asked. "My testimony-who am I supporting?"
"Your facts will speak for themselves," she said.
"Uh-huh-and what will they say?"
Lizard looked unhappy. "Use the nukes."
I didn't reply to that. Not at first. I was trying the idea on.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said.
Lizard led me over to a table, poured me a tumbler of ice water and handed it to me. I drank it quickly. I realized I was breathing hard. I said, "When I was in high school, we were given a kind of test. The whole class."
"The button test?" Lizard asked. "I remember it."
"Yeah, the button test. We were given the opportunity to press the button. Would we do it? Could we do it?" I remembered the feeling again and felt a cold chill in my stomach. It wasn't just the ice water. "There was a lot of fear in the class. A lot of crying. Even some screaming. In the end, we realized there wasn't one of us who was willing to take the responsibility for launching the missiles."
"That's the usual result," said Lizard. "But not always."
"Well, then the question came up. If the majority of the people don't want to own that responsibility, why do we still have nuclear missiles? The teacher-his name was Whitlaw-then offered us the chance to disarm them completely. But none of us would do that either, because we couldn't trust the other side. I think the point of that process was to show us how we were trapped into our present political situation. But all I remember from it is the fear of having that black box in my hands, the one with the red button in the middle of it. There was a point when I was so damned tempted to just press it and end the whole maddening discussion once and for all-but I didn't, of course."
I looked at Lizard. "Are you getting this? Or am I boring you?"
"Go on," she said.
"Well, this is the point. Here I am really being given the decision to press the button."
"It's the president's decision," said Lizard.
"Not entirely. I might be given a voice here. I'm part of the decision. That was the point of that process. It's my responsibility too. I can't speak to the issue unless I'm willing to own it."
"I see," said Lizard. "And are you? Are you willing to drop the bomb?"
I said, "I don't know. And I do. It's the logical extension of everything. It's my whole history. It's the same question as the little girl in the corral, as Shorty, and the people in the auditorium-and the renegades. It's all those lives. I don't want to be the one who has to make the decision-but I keep getting handed the gun, or the flame-thrower. And now it's the black box with the red button. I don't want it."
She grabbed me by the shoulders. "Listen to me. What you want is irrelevant. I want all the Chtorrans to disappear. I want my husband alive again. I want my baby alive again. I want to go back in time four years. But can I make any of that happen? No. I can't. This is it. The question is not what you want, but what you're willing to do with what you've got."
There were tears in my eyes. My voice cracked. "One life I can cope with, Lizard. I didn't pull the trigger on that little girl. And Shorty gave me permission; he told me to pull the trigger on a man being attacked by a Chtorran. Those people in the auditorium, they were in the way. The renegades-I was mad with rage. I mean, I had a . . . a justification, every time. An excuse. I don't have one this time. This time, it's a cold-blooded decision." I looked to her for help.
There was none forthcoming. Lizard said, "Now, do you understand the president's problem?"
I wiped my eyes. "I think so. A little bit."
"Right. You've got it, Jim. It's her decision, but you have to be responsible for your part of it. Now, are you willing to do that?"
"I'm willing to be responsible."
"Would you be willing to drop the bomb, if it were your decision?"
"I don't see any other alternative," I said.
"That's what we're here for," Lizard said. "Not to talk her into it, but to find a way out of it. And-failing that-then our job here is to be responsible for the decision that we do have to make."
"It's that inevitable?"
She didn't have a chance to answer. The stocky naval officer came storming back in, looking very angry. "The goddamn phones have been disconnected!" he said.
The president was just coming back into the room. "And for very good reason," she said. "Some people can't be trusted not to use them." She fixed him with the cookie jar stare. "Even when they've given their word that the proceedings of the session are top secret!"
The officer turned red, but didn't respond.
The president smiled grimly. "If you'll all resume your seats, we can continue."
61
The Nuclear Family
"Always be sincere. Even if you have to fake it."
-SOLOMON SHORT
"There's a question I need answered," said the president. She glanced around the room. "I'm not sure that any one of us knows the answer, but we need to consider it before we go any further. "It's the moral question. It's the question of humanity."
I looked at the other men and women sitting around the table. Some looked unhappy. Others were puzzled or uncertain. One or two were making marks on their notepads. A few were studying their hands or their shoes. Where had I seen-? Oh, yes. It was called "reality evasion." When circumstances are confronting, our first reaction is to want to avoid confrontation.
"Wake up!" shouted the president. She'd seen it too. She was angry. "Whatever other considerations we may have discussed today, this is the one that has to be handled. This is the one that historians will focus on."
General Wainright said wryly, "If any."
The president looked at him. "I'm sure you meant that as a joke, General, but that is the issue here. How far are we willing to go to guarantee the survival of the human species?"
"As far as we have to, Ma'am. You've seen the contingency plans. Lunar evacuation, sterilization and recolonization if that's what it takes. Whatever it takes, Ma'am."
The president held up a hand. "General, I respect your commitment. As a matter of fact, not ten minutes ago, I was on the phone to the head of the Space Agency, authorizing the necessary mobilizations for reopening both LS projects and reestablishing the Lunar colonies."
Wainright looked surprised-and pleased.
"I tell you that now because I want you to let go of that long enough to participate in this discussion. All right?"
The general grinned. He was looking too satisfied to take note of the implied criticism.
The president turned back to the rest of the room. "Now then, here's where I want your advice. We're looking at the use of nuclear weapons on the Chtorran camps. The evidence of the video is that there are human beings living in the Chtorran camps. Living there peaceably. And that implies that they are in cooperation. Human beings and worms.