The President let out an undignified whoop. He tore off the straps that
held him in the chair, threw his helmet across the Chamber. "We won!"
The Hemispheric diplomats were gathering excitedly in the corridor.
Jeffrey unsealed the Chamber.
Hoshawk shook hands with him. "You did it," he said gruffly. "I
apologize for ever thinking--"
The Chamber shuddered, and Hoshawk paled, but Jeffrey held up his
hand. He glanced at the chronometer. "That was Marseilles blowing up,"
he said.
His feet moved and he was gone. In a moment he was back. "Excuse me,
gentlemen," he begged. "I've got to see the squad. Just figured out a
way to beat the Blues. If you--"
He stopped, frowned.
He had felt it before they did--a distant blast. Then they heard it--a
dull explosion through three hundred feet of solid rock above them. The
floor shuddered under their feet.
It came again, and again, farther away. A pattern. Then off somewhere
else came another string of explosions.
The forty august heads stared at the ceiling. Mouths were open, but the
President's mutant brain in seconds analyzed the possibilities and came
up with the answer:
"Atom-bombs!"
"Impossible!" growled Hoshawk. "Forgacs' Chamber was destroyed."
The President was already back in the Chamber. He pressed a key.
"Starter," came the answer. "Forgacs' Chamber is destroyed. You have
won the war."