“Yes, Comrade General. The same companies made components of both machines, the same companies set out programs for both machines. Before Afghanistan brought the American embargo on certain software and hardware in the electronics field, the American business sector was very willing to sell us their secrets.” Gogol smiled. “And to finance the sales for us.”
“And you tampered with Naya…”
“Because the Americans tap Naya and already have the results of our games.”
“And you have found a way to enter Tinkertoy.”
Gogol nodded. “That was the secret. Until now, General Garishenko, it was necessary to keep this secret. We have had some successes in tapping into Tinkertoy, but the codes are changed so often and are so infinite that it was hardly worth all the efforts. But now we can enter Tinkertoy and pass through the system without leaving any muddy tracks.” Gogol laughed. “Yes. We can program Tinkertoy from within, you see. We no longer want to know what Tinkertoy knows; we have the ability to give Tinkertoy our information.”
“But what will put the blame on the Americans?” It was Warnov and his voice was complaining. He didn’t have any real understanding of Tinkertoy or Naya, and he was annoyed that Gogol seemed to be talking directly to General Garishenko. He was annoyed that Garishenko had been right after all; that the war game called “Paris” had been fixed by the KGB to be won by the Soviets, all to carry on a deception half a world away in Washington.
“The Central Intelligence Agency has fourteen agents in France, and nine are specifically assigned to infiltrate the national government in Paris. The number of agents was increased by six after the election of Mitterand. One agency will accompany the press party with Mitterand to Normandy on the sixth of June. Another will attend with Georges Marchais and the other officials of the Communist Party a memorial to the war dead at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Mitterand will be killed at three; at the same time, an attempt will be made upon the life of Marchais.”
“But the CIA won’t do these things.”
“Our terrorist cells within France will carry out the overt actions. But the blame has already been placed with the CIA. American forces are on alert in Europe. Since March, they have predicted a Soviet invasion of the European continent by Warsaw Pact forces. That is the work of Tinkertoy. We had even planned rather carefully to feed the same information into NATO from the British intelligence operation, but the plan…failed.” For the first time, Gogol’s dry and confident voice seemed to falter.
“What happened, Comrade?” asked Warnov, eager to stamp his presence on the meeting by asking a question that at least could be answered in plain Russian and not laden with computer gobbledygook.
“The human factor,” Gogol said, smiling again. “We had an agent planted at Lakenheath air force base in England and he had information that he would turn over to the British when the British managed to make him a double. Unfortunately, an opportunist named…well, that’s not important…took the information from our dupe. We didn’t want the information to fall to the Americans, it might have given them a clue about Tinkertoy. It was too bad, but we decided it wasn’t necessary for the success of the mission.”
“The Shattered Eye,” Garishenko said.
“Yes.” Gogol responded, noting that Garishenko had turned to the third page of the report. “The operation is the Shattered Eye. A poetic fancy. The Eye of Force Hurricane is France; it can be shattered in one blow, in one day. The time is exactly right. The peace movement is at a furious pitch of activity. Mitterand has universal respect as a man in France, although some dislike his politics.”
“And there is France itself,” Garishenko said. “Idiosyncratic at best. Force the Americans to make a premature move against us at the same time they are assassinating the left-wing leaders of France. It is too mad not to be exactly real.” Garishenko spoke softly, with awe coloring his slow words.
“Yes. On Sunday, the sixth of June, a red alert will be sounded at the American air base in England. The American alert will trip alerts at all NATO bases from Turkey to Norway. The Americans will have initiated the alert; they will have initiated the act of war against the leaders of France. Within three hours, the American agents in France will be exposed and the coup d’état will be crushed. Georges Marchais will become the president of France without ever understanding why.”
“And if the populace does not react as Naya predicts?”
“Then whoever will take over the French government after Mitterand will have the support of the rest of Europe in severing all ties — economic and military — with the United States. In any event, the warmongering posture of the present administration in the United States will be discredited and the forces of peace will be encouraged.”
“Our forces of peace,” Warnov said.
“Yes. Precisely. We will make no act in response to the American feint against us on the sixth of June. We will not comment until the French themselves have discovered the duplicity of the American agents in their midst.”
“And communications…”
“Yes. The last detail, resolved just this week. We have our agents in place. Six months ago, the Americans were lured into making contact with one of our number, a French woman. She has access to the new codings of the French government computer system. With her entrée, the computer will be fouled — by the Americans. And she, in turn, will denounce the American agents who have used her. It is an authentic plan from every angle.”
Garishenko sat for a long moment in the silence of the room staring at the final page of the report on the Shattered Eye.
All the complex plottings had been broken down simply into thirty-one lines of type on the last page of the report. So simple but so complex that he realized only a couple of people in the room understood it as well as he. And now he understood why Gogol had spoken to him; with an odd quirk of vanity, Gogol wanted one man to understand the strategic brilliance of Gogol’s plan.
Garishenko let a slow smile cross his pale face. For the first time in two weeks, he did not have a headache. He felt nothing. There would be no war, only a victory; and he had been duped by the machine along with the others as a final test to prove that the Shattered Eye would succeed.
“And who conceived the plan?”
Gogol turned his eyes to Garishenko, who sat at his right side.
“Many committees,” Gogol said vaguely.
“The Committee for Terror,” Garishenko said.
“Among them. Yes. Many committees.”
“And what did Naya say?”
Gogol turned and smiled. “Do you suppose we ran a game to see if it would work?”
“Of course.”
“There were many variables.”
“And Naya said the plan would work.”
“Yes. Even the computer the Americans sold to us said it would work.”
“And France will be neutralized.”
“That is almost certain.”
“The military situation — for the West — would be intolerable then. Would they go to war?”
“No.”
“Naya says they won’t go to war.”
“With ninety percent probability.”
Garishenko frowned. “Such a risk. Even a small risk.”
“Comrade General, every proposition has its risks attached.”
“Even those proposed to a computer,” Garishenko replied.
24
The music was ethereal, nondirectional, coming from everywhere and nowhere, vaguely reminiscent.
Mrs. Neumann listened for a long time with her eyes closed. The air was damp, close, hot; where was the music?
She opened her eyes and saw nothing. Her right arm felt heavy, as though a hand held her wrist down. Then she realized it was not a hand, but metal, strapped tightly around her wrist.