Schillenhorst looked up and said, ‘From there will go the wireless impulses, also we shall receive back information that the impulses have been obeyed. The radar sets keep watch, continuously. Nothing can escape us.’
Shaw merely grunted and followed on behind the bowed shoulders of Schillenhorst. Just for’ard of the bridge super-structure the scientist descended a hatchway with a long, steep ladder leading into the depths, into what must once have been the ship’s lower mess-deck. This deck, as Shaw could see when they reached the foot of the ladder and went through a door in a watertight bulkhead, had now been gutted and refitted to form a compartment that looked like a computer-room. A gigantic structure like an electronic brain stood massively in the centre, while around the bulkheads some twenty men with headphones clamped over their ears sat before panels filled with dials and buttons and lights — red, green, white, and blue lights — and the brilliant green flickers of radar scans. A low hum filled the compartment, a hum which seemed to pulsate on the eardrums.
Schillenhorst said, ‘As from yesterday continuous watch was set on the Canaveral area. The operators look for an indication that the missile is airborne.’
‘So soon?’
Schillenhorst nodded. ‘Oh yes. In case the test date is advanced. We must be ready all the time. Follow me.’
He turned away with an almost military precision, indicating points of interest as he went along. He showed Shaw the four plotters who would, in groups of two so as to provide an immediate and continuous check, follow Warmaster from the time she left the launching-pad at Canaveral. The information thus gained would be passed electronically to the ‘brain’ in the centre, which was controlled by two men sitting before a dial-filled panel at the machine’s forward end. These men, each once again acting as a check upon the other, would then, using the digested information, set the ‘brain’ for the transmission that would penetrate Warmaster and interrupt the delicate balance of her built-in controls, cutting out and superseding the normal control transmission from the Canaveral base and steepening the missile’s trajectory. As soon as this pirate radio impulse had taken Warmaster out of Cape Canaveral’s control — and it would have to be done, Schillenhorst said, before Warmaster left the Earth’s atmosphere — a single purple light would shine in the control panel. Then, as another impulse was sent out to fire off the daughter-missiles, the individual plotters would once again take over, feeding back information as to the flight and behaviour of each of these twenty smaller missiles. When this information had been fed into the ‘brain’ and digested, a red light would shine, the ‘brain’ would take over finally, and marshal and redirect the smaller missiles, with Warmaster itself, on to the pre-selected, preset targets. And all this would be done within seconds of the first actual transmission, not taking into account the preliminary feelers which would be sent out in the initial stages of establishing the first contacts.
‘New York,’ Schillenhorst told Shaw, ‘will receive the parent missile, Warmaster herself. New York is not so militarily important, perhaps, as other possible targets, but we consider that the effect on morale will be worse felt in New York than anywhere else. With the closely packed population, the many tall buildings… I think I need not expand?’
‘No, you needn’t.’ Shaw’s face was white and hard. ‘And then? After the full transmission has been made, what do you do then?’
‘After that, little more will remain but to check on the result. My operators will listen out for the shock-waves…’ His voice went on and on, battering at Shaw’s ears. The shock-waves would be picked up by the delicate antennae of the Moehne’s equipment after the land-shattering explosions had taken place. This information would be electronically transferred to radar screens on the panels, and, in effect, given pictorially so that Schillenhorst could make some assessment of conditions in America. Once this information had been interpreted, he and Fleck would be able to form some rough opinion as to the degree of success. Then, once detailed reports as to the actual damage had come in from the Party Agencies and it was known that they were all ready for the take-over — and Schillenhorst had no doubts at all about success — then Fleck would allow a reasonable period for the fall-out to settle before flying north to the States. There, under orders from the Party in Germany, he would take charge of the Agencies, which would have gone into action in the meantime. They would run the essential services and the food distribution in accordance with detailed plans already received from the Directorate via Fleck. They would also look after the cruel problems that would result from such a devastating series of nuclear explosions — explosions which would completely have disrupted all life to leave the people stunned and unbelieving. When Fleck had established a working control, then the ‘well-known American,’ whom Schillenhorst refused even now to name, would take over.
Shaw asked, ‘And the Moehne?’
‘She will stay on her station, at least until we hear further from our people in the United States. It may be, perhaps, that the ship herself will be required no longer, since we shall be able to mount our equipment permanently in the U.S.A, directed against Russia and ultimately China… and any other country that perhaps may desire to trouble us and prevent our plans maturing in full.’ Schillenhorst looked at Shaw with arrogant pride. ‘What do you think of our control room, Commander?’
Shaw stared back at him, his fists itching at the handcuffs’ restriction. He said, ‘Oh, it’s a clever bit of work all right. Very clever indeed. You’re a bunch of immoral thugs to use your know-how this way. There’s a far better use for brains of that calibre, Schillenhorst.’
He saw the gleam in the scientist’s eyes and he saw the hand come up with the reversed Lugar in it and he managed to weave aside in time. The Lugar swung hard into a stanchion and Schillenhorst gave a cry as the shock travelled up his arm. At the same moment Shaw brought his knee up and took the man hard in the groin, and Schillenhorst went down like a falling tree, and lay on the deck moaning.
It didn’t do Shaw any good, of course.
He was very scientifically beaten up as a result of his loss of temper. It wasn’t only radar that Hans Schillenhorst specialized in, as was proved when he recovered enough to get up from the deck. He had other things up his sleeve as well, things perhaps learned, and learned diligently, from wartime comrades who had guarded the forced-labour and concentration camps.
Shaw didn’t come round from that beating-up for more than an hour and when he did he was stiff all over, his flesh was black with bruises, and he was covered with nasty raised weals, and he felt like death. He was in his own bunk and the light was on and hurting his eyes. The footsteps of the sentry overhead sounded like hammer-blows. He turned away from the figure that was bending over him before he realized it was Captain Lindrath and that the Captain was rubbing some soothing ointment into his skin with his own hands.
His head swam but he was able to focus after a minute or two of blinking into the light. He said weakly, ‘Well, Captain. Why d’you bother? This isn’t your job…’
Lindrath looked at him keenly. ‘It is my duty. As Master, I am responsible for what happens aboard my ship, and the doctor refused to obey my order to attend upon you. It seems I am to be powerless to give such orders in that direction… I have had a very big row with Fleck and Schillenhorst, I may tell you… I said to you, Commander, that I did not like many things that were happening. Perhaps not in so many words… but the meaning is true as I say it now. So very many things I do not like, and this is one of them.’ He paused, then added in a low voice, ‘We must talk together, you and I, before it is too late.’