David's Sling (6 page)

The brilliant oranges and yellows of an explosion obliterated the scene, making the senator jump back in his seat.

Nathan spoke quietly, confidently. "The SkyHunter will not drop its pitiful load of bombs on just anything, senator. It will cruise patiently in the sky, hunting only the choicest prey. It does not hunt for the frail creatures of blood and bone sent by the enemy to die in battle. It hunts for the minds that command them. Senator, what does a division do when it loses its commander?"

Hilan thought for a moment. "The soldiers continue on to meet their current objectives."

"And then?"

The senator pursed his lips grudgingly. "They stop. They wait for further instructions." He shook his head. "But eventually, someone will get them organized again."

"By which time other SkyHunters will have destroyed the regimental command posts that would receive the orders, and the army headquarters that sent orders to the division." Nathan leaned forward. "But you're right. One SkyHunter cannot
destroy
a division, but it can stop one. It can transform that division from a brutally effective offensive machine into a frightened clutch of defenders, who would be easy pickings for a conventional brigade one fourth their size." Nathan could see the recognition in Hilan's eyes. Hilan's own subcommittee had recently estimated the Russian advantage along the German border to be four to one.

After a long pause, Nathan continued. "We also have two other Hunter platforms—one a ground-effect vehicle, the other an orbital munitions dispenser. I can show you those as well."

The senator shook his head. "Another time perhaps." He frowned. "More important, I need to know why
you
have to be the developers. Why not use the normal military acquisition system?"

"Because the normal military acquisition system
wouldn't
just acquire one—they'd
build
one, from scratch. They'd use military contractors to build a customized system that might be twice as good, but which would take ten times as long to develop and cost ten times as much to produce. It would be so good that by the time they could field it, it would be obsolete. They would
not
use commercially available systems, like the WeatherWatch airplane."

As Nathan spoke, he grew more forcefal. No matter how often he addressed this topic, he could never approach it with complete Zetetic composure. "Do you know the story of the TACFIRE computer? It was designed to control artillery barrages. Unfortunately, it took 25 years to build. When they finally deployed it in the late 70s and early '80s, TACFIRE computers cost six million dollars apiece. During those 25 years, the technology changed to the point where TACFIRE could hardly be called a computer: it had the processing power of a six hundred dollar Apple II computer. And TACFIRE could not even operate with some of the artillery systems that had evolved during its 25-year development period." Nathan felt his voice rising, took a deep breath for control. "Senator, the state of the world scares me. The United States is in the throes of confronting the end of the Industrial Age culture it created. Meanwhile, the Russians grow more aggressive. Senator, I don't think we can
wait
twenty years for the American military to catch up with the civilian revolution in technology. We need to be able to protect ourselves better
this year
." Nathan stopped speaking, filled with sodden futility. After all, Senator Forstil belonged to the same party as President Mayfield.

But a shadow of tense worry broke through the senator s projected image. "You're right," he replied quietly. A long pause ensued; Nathan wondered if he should speak.

At last, Forstil continued. "I think I know why you wanted to talk with me, why Jan wanted me to talk with you. You've heard that various powerful people in the military want this project taken away from the Defense Nuclear Agency because they've given you a free hand. They want the Sling put under FIREFORS, where it can be controlled more effectively."

Nathan nodded.

"I'll give it serious consideration. For the moment my subcommittee will recommend against a transition to FIREFORS control. But if the army decides to enforce such a move itself, I cannot stop them. However," he smiled, and for another moment his image of controlled power relaxed, this time because his shark's smile seemed uncontrolled, "if the army decides to move on its own, I shall counsel them."

Nathan chuckled. "Thank you." They stood up, shook hands, and Forstil turned to depart. As he reached the door, he turned, puzzled. "One last thing."

"Yes?"

"Why do you call it the Sling?"

"Because David of Israel was the forerunner of the Information Age warrior." Nathan leaned back against his desk, returning to the position from which he had started this encounter. "Senator, when David stood against the Philistines, he faced the most heavily armed and armored enemy of his day. David himself was unarmored, and virtually unarmed. Yet, by the application of just a tiny amount of force, precisely applied, he defeated Goliath."

"Defeated him with nothing but his sling," the senator finished the analogy. "Moreover, he defeated the enemy by striking at
his
command center." He touched his forehead, as if he could feel the blow of a slingshot stone against his temple. "May our Sling work as well," was Hilan's parting prayer.

"May we never need to test it," was Nathan's.

Far beneath Daniel Wilcox's office, the cherry blossoms along the George Washington Parkway fluttered in a frenzy of color. From here, high in the Wilcox-Morris Building that dominated Rosslyn, the view took panoramic proportions—two sheer walls of glass, floor to ceiling, enclosed half the office. The sweeping view overcame the sense of enclosure with the sense of open sky. Daniel's eyes crinkled with amusement as he watched the new advertising executive, Kira Evans. She tried to shift her chair to look across that panorama. Her efforts amused him because the room had been designed so that
he
had the pleasure of that view from his desk. Kira could turn her back on the view, or she could turn her back on him; she could not face both at the same time.

He considered shifting to the conference table to accommodate her, but it was more fun to watch her cope with the problem. Besides, she had not earned such a view yet. If she wanted the use of an office such as this, she would have to take command of a corporate empire, as he had done.

Even as he watched, Kira resolved the dilemma, leaning forward, focusing her whole concentration on the job at hand. Daniel returned his attention to the layouts she had brought him, shuffling through to his favorite advertisement. This one ad suggested that Kira might indeed get an office of her own with panoramic windows. The ad was a beautifully crafted full-page paste-up, carefully explaining why the tobacco industry wasn't at fault for the rising incidence of smoking among children. He took a drag off his cigarette, and blew the smoke into the faint blue haze that swirled around him on its way to the air conditioning vent. "This is great stuff," he congratulated her. "An excellent utilization of our reborn plain-talk advertising strategy at work." He smiled. "I particularly like your point about advertisements saying that cigarettes are strictly for grown-ups, not for kids."

Kira fumbled with her cigarette, showing the same skill a thirteen-year-old girl might show in handling a snake, but she continued gamely. Clearly, she had gotten the word: if you worked with the Wilcox-Morris Tobacco Company, you had to smoke with them as well. That policy was strictly, strictly unofficial, of course. It would have been technically legal to hire, fire, and promote on the basis of smoking habits, but Daniel knew the consequences if he started such a policy: the news media would flay him alive, and legislation would follow. It was better to leave it unstated. Kira was a good example of how effective such unstated policies could be. She would get used to the cigarette between her lips; she would get hooked on the rush; she would become a good member of the team.

But not yet. His compliment on her advertisement had not pleased her; she seemed disturbed with the explanation that cigarette advertisements were strictly for adults. "Thank you for the compliment," she said, with a sincere smile that turned quickly to a frown. "But I'm afraid this ad may not work the way we intended. Our adults-only advertising may be the most effective kind of children's advertising possible. After all, what could possibly be a better way to get children started than telling them it's for grown-ups?"

Daniel waved the objection aside. "Nonsense. We're just being up-front and honest. Nobody can get angry at us for that." From time to time, similar thoughts disturbed Daniel himself. He would have to help Kira overcome the sense of guilt, as he had himself. He would have to help her look beyond the intellectual questions if she were to mold herself into a useful tool.

Kira leaned forward in her chair as if to refresh the argument, thought better of it, then sank glumly back. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right." Daniel sought for something to distract her from further contemplation of her guilt.

Kira had great talent, and, God knew, the tobacco companies needed to cultivate every ounce of talent they could find these days. The enemies were so numerous, the fields of opportunities from which they needed to clear opponents were so vast, he needed to find a way to get Kira involved as rapidly as possible. A little bit of quiet conspiracy might be just the ticket. People loved to work together in conspiracies, to strike against great enemies, and Daniel had need for a new conspiracy. "Do you fully understand why we've recruited your agency?"

As Kira gave him a blank stare, Daniel came around his desk to take a chair close to her. He sat inside the range of the air conditioner; dry, cool air swished against his face.

"We recruited you because we have such a continuing problem with the media. They're constantly accusing us of brainwashing people. We're looking to you, with your young organization, for new ideas to combat this. The media is very effective at brainwashing people into thinking that we are the ones who do the brainwashing." He shook his head. "How can we make people realize that the media is more dangerous than the tobacco industry could ever be?" He leaned closer. "The news media is a continuing problem, but we've been dealing with them successfully for decades. However, a new problem's come up, and this one could really destroy us."

He paused to let the tension build. Her eyes narrowed. Finally she responded, in a whisper that matched his own. "What?"

"The Zetetic Institute."

A dozen little shifts showed her surprise. His hand pressed against the tabletop, her breathing paused. "What?" she asked for explanation in a low voice that pitched up in a final question mark.

"The Zetetic Institute is our new problem." He waved at a report sitting on his desk. "It's a network of project group organizers and information salesmen. They're more a cult than a corporation, but they've got their fingers in just about every pie in America. And two years ago they put their fingers into
our
pie."

Kira nodded. "I've heard of them. But I can't believe they're dangerous to the Wilcox-Morris Corporation."

"So you've heard of them. Excellent." Her reaction to the mention of the Institute didn't match up with just a passing familiarity. She must have friends there. That could be useful. "Do you know about the Zetetic anti-smoking clinics? Those information salesmen have collected all the anti-smoking techniques ever devised into a single, consistent framework. Individually, those techniques are all pretty ineffective. But the Institute developed a method for matching techniques with individual strengths and weaknesses. After the Institute gets done tailoring a set for a particular person . . ."

Kira had recovered her composure. She now seemed eager, though puzzled. "But the Institute is a tiny organization! How can they threaten Wilcox-Morris?"

"They can threaten us with their growth rate." Daniel turned to his computer work station, tapped rapidly across the keys, and spun the display so Kira could see it. "They've shown exponential growth in the number of smoking clinics they've run for the last two years. If we wait until they're big enough to be a noticeable force, they'll be within one year of destroying our cigarette sales in the United States."

"What makes you think their growth curve won t flatten out?"

Daniel took a last heady drag off his menthol, ground out the stub, and fit a new one. He rose and started pacing across the room. "Eventually it will. But we need to flatten out their growth curve
now
, while they're still just a wiggle in the market research. If we wait, they'll surely cut into our bottom line." He turned at the end of the room to come back. The glowing tip of his second smoke left a contrail that defined his previous path.

Kira pursed her lips. ''Do you want to run an advertising campaign against them? I can't believe it would be effective. That would be like the Hershey Company running advertisements against dietitians who tell overweight people to give up chocolate."

''Exactly. We can't use straightforward advertising. A frontal confrontation is inappropriate in this situation. It's similar to our problem with beating referenda. We should probably build an organization like the Citizens For Freedom—we used them to beat down legislation on no smoking in public buildings. We need somebody who seems unbiased—somebody who can complain about those ZI kooks messing with the minds of our children."

Daniel saw from the look in Kira's eyes that he had been too blunt in his analysis. He was not surprised when she responded badly. "The Zetetics are a bit cultish, but they aren't exactly kooks."

He backed off. We might not need to go all the way to building an organization to counter them. First, we should try to exploit the media; after all, that's cheaper, and it's at least as effective when it works."

Kira nodded. "Yes, that seems like a sensible approach. " Daniel could see that she still held distaste for the idea of fighting the Zetetic Institute, but he could also see that she was challenged by the problems of manipulating the media. "First, we need to find sharp newsmen who already distrust the Institute. That shouldn't be a problem; there are newsmen who distrust everything. Then we need to cultivate them and make sure they're successful, without letting them know they're being helped."