The Book of Truths

Chapter 16

The 740th nuclear explosion in the Nevada Test Site lit up the sky behind the Snake. It was the first one that had not been a test.

“What about the outliers, wherever they are?” Doc asked. “Won’t they go automatically to self-destruct?”

“We assume they will,” Ms. Jones said over the net.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Kirk said.

“And?” Ms. Jones prompted.

“We got the alert for Nebraska from the old SAC headquarters, right?”

“Correct,” Ms. Jones said.

“Well?” Kirk said.

“Very good,” Ms. Jones replied.

“Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time!”

Colonel Horace Egan, USAF Retired, was rounding third and ready to cross the plate with Mrs. Floyd as she cried out a line from Casablanca.

She was leaning against a console in the underground bunker, Egan pressed up against her. Her dress was in disarray and Egan planned on fixing that by taking it off her. She’d come back twice more since their first encounter, both times without her husband, and he’d advanced a base each time. Tonight he planned to bring it home.

She’d put up a good display, but Egan had always known that when he focused on an objective, he could achieve it. He leaned into her, kissing her once more, glad he still had all his teeth even if he were a bit short on the Samson hair.

“We’ll always have—” he began as he parted lips with her, but his line was cut short as a board on the right side of the room lit up like a Christmas tree. Fourteen flashing orange lights.

“Oh crap,” Egan said.

And then a red phone gave a shrill ring. Reluctantly, Egan separated his body from Mrs. Floyd, who pouted and pondered, not for the first time and not for the last time, why she was drawn back to this dark place and this randy old goat.

Men and their missiles.

“Yes?” Egan snapped as he picked up the phone.

“Colonel Egan, my name is Ms. Jones. We have a problem we were hoping you could help us with.”

“All the self-destructs?” Egan asked, glancing up at the board.

“Yes. Is there a way to shut them down? They’re all predigital.”

“Need the arming code to disarm them,” Egan said.

“We’re trying to get it—” Ms. Jones began, but Egan suddenly laughed. His memory wasn’t so bad after all.

“Lady, the last time this joint was active, everyone knew the code. Hold on.” Egan walked over to the one working console in the control room. Eight circular pins were set in it, like a large bike lock. The numbers were set randomly.

Egan quickly dialed each one to zero.

He hit the red button above them and all the orange lights blinked out.

Peace once more reigned in the SAC control room.

Egan walked over to the phone. “Taken care of. Now, if you don’t mind,” he glanced over at Mrs. Floyd, “I’ve got an important matter to attend to.”