The Mouse That Roared (17 page)

“I suppose,” said the President, “that you have all seen this.” He held up a copy of the
New York Daily Neil’s.
The headline read NEW YORK INVADED. Below was the line

Q-BOMB CAPTURED BY ENEMY. And below that SCIENTIST MISSING.

“Saw it,” said the army general. “Didn’t pay it much attention. Other day they had a story about New York being invaded by some jerks from Mars. Lot of baloney.”

“Unfortunately,” said the President, gravely, “it isn’t. New York was invaded during the alert by a small group of raiders from the Duchy of Grand Fenwick. They did capture the Q-bomb. And they also captured Dr. Kokintz, the only physicist in the world who knows how to make this bomb. And they got away clean in a sailing vessel and now have the bomb and Dr. Kokintz. They have, in fact, the power to destroy the whole of Europe. And if they got the bomb over here, the power to destroy most of the United States. The point is: What are we going to do about it? I should like an expression of views from you gentlemen.”

The members of the Cabinet looked at each other like boys in a classroom who had been asked quite a simple question, but were unable to come up with the answer. The silence continued until it was almost painful. The Secretary of Defence sought comfort in placing his fingers to his mouth. Senator Griffin glared at the floor between his feet as if at any moment he would launch into a full-dress denunciation of the carpet. The Secretary of State crossed his legs and played a little tattoo with his fingers on a portfolio on his knees. The army general was the first to speak.

“Heck, Mr. President,” he said. “I don’t know what all the backing and filling’s about. Give me forty parachutists and a plane and I’ll go over to that little jerkwater country and get that bomb and this Kokintz back before they know what’s happened to them.”

The President smiled. “That would mean an overt attack on the Duchy of Grand Fenwick,” he said.

“We aren’t scared of them, are we?” the general asked, surprised.

“No,” said the President. “But it isn’t that simple. Technically we are at war with the duchy, so we would be within our rights to mount any kind of attack we desire against the country. But there’s world opinion to be considered. We cannot let it be recorded in history that a nation of our size attacked the smallest country in the world--a State which is only five miles long and three miles wide, and cherishes the same love of freedom that gave us birth. We cannot do that, whatever the provocation. It would be contrary to all the traditions of our country. I do not believe for a moment that our own people would stand for it. And it would completely wreck our relations with the smaller foreign nations, especially the South American republics whose friendship and trust is essential to our own security. They would see in such an attack the iron fist in the velvet glove. That is one point.”

“There is another point too. Putting aside these moral and diplomatic considerations which must weigh very heavily, the people of Grand Fenwick have given us ample proof of their patriotism and their sense of independence. It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that if they were invaded by us and overwhelmed, they would elect to destroy themselves and the whole of Europe rather than submit to defeat. When Patrick Henry said, ‘Give me liberty or give me death,’ he spoke not only for the early Americans, but voiced the secret creed of millions of people living in a hundred different countries throughout the world. He spoke not only for his time, but for our time too. We cannot run a risk of the physical disintegration of Europe, which in the long run would certainly be blamed on us, even to regain possession of the Q-bomb.”

He paused for a while and then said, each word spoken deliberately and grimly, “What we have to realize is that with the seizure of the Q-bomb and Dr. Kokintz, Grand Fenwick has achieved a victory which it is impossible for us to reverse.

The centre of the world’s military power has shifted from this continent to that tiny nation. This is a hard thing for us to grasp, but it is none the less true.”

“Is it not possible to get the bomb back by the use of secret agents?” the Secretary of Defence asked.

“I’ve gone into that,” the President replied. “I have discussed with the Office of Strategic Services the possibility of some of their skilled men dropping into Grand Fenwick from a plane, or getting there by other means, to recapture the bomb and Kokintz.

“The O.S.S. is, of course, willing and anxious to try. But they make no attempt to belittle the difficulties. I hardly have to point out that a stranger in so small a country would be immediately noticed and arrested. The borders are, of course, completely guarded. The bomb, according to information received by our agents, is kept in the dungeon of a castle. The castle is closely guarded. The dungeon is under a double guard. The whole place is completely sealed against entry. But, even supposing that one or more of our agents did get into the country unnoticed, they would have to kill or incapacitate the guards to get to the dungeon where the bomb is kept. Then they would have to escape through an aroused country with a weapon which, if dropped or bumped, would kill millions and leave as an aftermath a gas which would kill millions more--an extremely stable gas which once it is formed would take its toll of lives for decades, none knowing which nation or community would next be visited. The risk of the bomb being exploded while being taken from Grand Fenwick is more than we dare expose the world to. We must find some other way out of this quandary.”

“Mr. President,” said the Secretary of Defence, “there is one other important aspect of this problem which we must not overlook. It is well enough to say that we cannot go down in history as having attacked the smallest nation in the world. It is well enough to point to the dangers surrounding an attempt to seize the bomb by use of secret agents. But no such scruples will deter the Communists.

“We agreed when we were discussing the manufacture of the bomb with Dr. Kokintz that it would give world mastery, temporarily at least, to whoever possessed it first. The same argument holds true now. We must not ignore the probability that the Russians themselves may invade Grand Fenwick and, risking the consequences, seize the Q-bomb. Or they may use secret agents to get it. If they should succeed, they could force whatever terms they wished upon us under threat of using the bomb against us.

“They could demand our complete withdrawal from Europe, for instance. They could demand cessation of all aid to nations combating Communism; the handing over of the people and territory of Western Germany to their control; admission of Red China to the United Nations; the removal of all barriers to the free operation and organization of the Communist Party in the United States.”

He stopped and shrugged and made a gesture of helplessness with his hands. “In fact,” he continued, “there is no limit to what we would have to agree to in order to save as much as we could of our nation and our people. They could dictate the whole order of the world. Useless to say that the Kremlin would not do these things. World conquest is their averred goal, and to attain their objectives, the Communists have slaughtered thousands of their own people without a qualm. They are ruthless in a sense and to a degree which it is hard for us to grasp, even when the evidence is laid plainly before us. Our primary problem, as I see it, is not so much to regain possession of the Q-bomb as to prevent Moscow from getting hold of it. And that could mean war.”

“Pretty tough fighters, those Russians,” said the army general, half to himself. “They made a hell of a stand at Stalingrad. Take lots of tanks and artillery to get through them. Congress ought never to have cut back the army estimates. I had’a hunch something like this was going to happen.”

“Heavy bombers would be more important than tanks,” said the air force general.

“Unnecessary if we had plenty of carriers to attack through the Baltic and the eastern reaches of the Mediterranean,” interposed the admiral.

The three glared at each other.

“Gentlemen,” said the President, patiently. “We have not gone to war yet. Despite recent precedents, a declaration of war by the United States still requires the consent of the Congress.”

The Secretary of State uncrossed his legs. The action had become known in international diplomatic circles as a signal that he had something to say. Its significance was well understood by the Cabinet and all gave him their attention.

“I received this morning a short coded message from our Ambassador to the Kremlin which there was just time to decipher before attending the present meeting,” he said. His voice was as conservative, as lacking in sparkle and lustre as his club tie. “The message has some bearing on the Kremlin’s intentions in the matter.” He opened his portfolio precisely and took out a piece of thin, blue paper. “Here is the message,” he said. “Confidential, of course.” And he gave a quick glance in the direction of Senator Griffin.

Presidium voted this morning to offer ten divisions of the Red Army for the protection of Grand Fenwick against U.S. attack. Foreign commissar leaving to negotiate mutual assistance and protection-pact and try to get Q-bomb to Moscow for safe keeping. Details follow with pouch. Hancock.

“Who’s Pouch?” asked the army general. “Diplomatic pouch,” said the Secretary, with a slight smile “Not a person.”

“Read that again,” the President interrupted, a little testily. The Secretary of State did so.

“What do you make of it? Do you think this means that they are going to invade?” the President asked.

“It’s always difficult to discover precisely what the Russians mean,” the Secretary parried. “Particularly so when all we have to form a judgment on is a short message transmitted in code. Hancock is scrupulous, however, about the selection of the precise wording for such messages. I believe we will not be far wrong if we interpret this ‘offer’ as meaning that ten divisions of the Red Army are to be sent to that part of their occupied territory, nearest to the Fenwick border, ready to invade. That would be Neufelden in Austria, about two hundred miles distant. Call it five hours away for mechanized troops travelling overland and something less than an hour for airborne divisions. We might presume that a large number of the Russian divisions will be airborne. We have sufficient experience of totalitarian methods to realize that an offer of friendship and mutual assistance is usually notice of intention to annex. Similarly, an offer of troops for protection is usually notice of intention to occupy.”

Senator Griffin broke the shocked silence which followed. “We must take immediate and effective counter measures, Mr. President,” he burst out. “We must match the Soviet offer of mutual assistance and friendship with one of our own. We must offset their offer of ten divisions with an offer of twenty, if need be. I have no doubt,” he added, “that Congress will give its fullest support to such measures.”

“We’re overlooking something basic here,” said the President. “That is that we are at war with the Duchy of Grand Fenwick. We cannot send troops to protect the enemy. Such an offer would be rejected out of hand. Not only are we at war with Grand Fenwick, but at the present stage of the hostilities we have lost, and have arrived at an impasse where we can do nothing further. We must, before we can take any counter measures against the Russians, sue for terms and arrange a peace.”

“You mean that the United States of America with its one hundred and sixty million people, its enormous industry, its incalculable wealth, its massive armaments, has to sue for terms from a nation whose total population wouldn’t make a good gate at a football game? Preposterous,” snorted Senator Griffin.

“Preposterous, but true,” replied the President. “I don’t suppose the British relished it any better when Cornwallis surrendered to us. We were a very small nation then, and they a very big one. Does anybody have an alternative plan?”

Nobody had. It was agreed that the Secretary of State would fly to Grand Fenwick in the Presidential plane with plenipotentiary powers, to arrange a peace between the two nations, and back this up by a mutual assistance pact and the offer of fifteen divisions of the United States Army for protection of the duchy against aggression. Senator Griffin was somewhat mollified to learn that the fifteen U.S. divisions could be held in readiness at Linz, in the U.S. zone in Austria, only a few miles from where the Soviet divisions were likely to be stationed.

“Promise them anything within reason,” the President instructed the Secretary of State. “We’ll see that the San Rafael Pinot, which caused all this, is withdrawn immediately from the market. We’ll give them preferential treatment for the importation of their own wine into the United States in any quantity they ask. We’ll give them money, machinery, technical assistance--anything. You will, of course, attempt in return to secure agreement for the Q-bomb to be restored to us, and Dr. Kokintz too. But if that is impossible, it is essential to obtain a firm guarantee that it will not be given to the Russians. You’d better get General Snippett and the four policemen back as well,” he said, almost as an afterthought.

He looked the Secretary of State over with a calculating eye. “I don’t want to be personal,” he added, “but the ruler of Grand Fenwick is, I understand, a rather attractive young woman. You might bear that in mind and try to look a little more--er--dashing. You’d better take along some presents. What would you suggest?”

The Secretary of State was about to suggest twelve cases of the finest New York champagne, but recollected himself and said, “Perhaps a mink coat?”

“No,” snorted the President. “And that goes for deep freezers too. Think of something else.”

They settled on a diamond necklace and the Secretary was to inquire discreetly into the availability of nylon stockings and lingerie in Grand Fenwick--this because the experience of World War II suggested that such gifts could perform wonders with the female population of Europe.

Midway in time between the meeting of the Presidium and the Cabinet of the United States, the Honourable Byron Partridge rose in the House of Commons in London to ask a question of the Foreign Secretary.