Morgan went on. "Where would you like to live, gentlemen?" and his
glance flicked around the table; "in the best liked or most hated
country in the world?"
* * * * *
It mattered not to Five Star, nor to Suggs.
"What difference does it make, Mr. Undersecretary? Speaking for myself
and my constituents, I can truthfully say that the opinion of the
world matters not one good solitary damn. Who cares what some other
country has got to say, if words can't be backed up with action? Right
now, and you know it as well as you're sitting there, Mr.
Undersecretary, right now Uncle Sam is known all over the world as
Uncle Sucker, and Uncle Shylock. Europe and Asia have had what they
wanted over my protests and those of my constituents, and now Europe
and Asia can go hang, for all I care. That's What they want us to do!"
He gave Morgan no chance to break in. That rolling bass rattled off
the walls and crinkled my ears.
"Europe and Asia and the rest of the world could never affect us one
way or another, favorable or otherwise, if it weren't for the
ninny-headed mouthings of a few influential morons. Fight, Mr.
Undersecretary, fight and murder and declare war and blow up millions
of people and then run to Uncle Sam to pay the bills. I say, Mr.
Undersecretary, I say what I've said before and what I'll say again;
if Europe and Asia and the rest of the world don't like what we do
here in these United States, let Europe and Asia and the rest of the
world go to hell!"
Suggs wasn't a bit excited. Those grand, those mellifluous and rotund
phrases rolled out of those skinny lips at a mile-a-minute pace with
never a flicker of emotion but a nervous twitching of the drooping
eyelids. If that was the way he talked when calm, I could see why he
had been sent back and back to the Senate time after time.
The General deliberately tossed his cigar on the floor and pounded his
fist on the table.
"Well said, Senator! My sentiments exactly. If Europe and Asia and the
rest of the world don't like what we do here, let 'em all go to hell,
or better yet, let's send them there in a hand-basket."
Bloodthirsty old bat. I never remembered seeing him any too close to
the jumping-off point. That's what generals are for, they tell me.
"I say to hell with them all, and the sooner they know about it, the
better for all concerned." His gaudy gold case, the gift of a grateful
staff, was on the table in front of him, and he jerked out a cigar
with a flourish. A light with a gold lighter, and he puffed thick
clouds.
Morgan coughed politely. "Regardless, Senator, of what has or what is
happening, we're concerned at present with what might happen."
Suggs opened his mouth like a thirsty carp and closed it again as
Morgan went on.
"Call it what you like, Senator; General Legree will agree with me
that this perfect defense--if defense is the word--is equally well the
perfect weapon. Right, General?"
Legree pursed pontifical lips for a reply and was annoyed when Morgan
paused only momentarily.
"Perfect defense means the nullification of an opposing weapon.
Obviously, a weaponless army is no longer anything but a disciplined
mob. In correlation, Senator, _our_ arms and weapons are still
effective, and--you mentioned the distrust (or dislike, or hatred, or
whatever you will) held for us by Europe and Asia. Now, Senator, think
of yourself and your constituents: is it not far better that Europe
and Asia and the world be solaced and comforted by the announcement
that we would use our ... Iron Curtain only in our own defense? Would
it not be better--how many years, Senator, have there been recorded of
universal peace? How many years?"
Some men can sit poker-stiff, yet give the impression of teetering
slowly on their heels, slowly counting the horses' teeth. Suggs was a
horse trader from away back.
He said, "Mr. Morgan, I say I can appreciate your viewpoint. I can
even appreciate the fact that you mean exactly what you say. But--!"
Sharks must have teeth like that; broken and yellow, and razor-keen.
The smile of the Senator fascinated me.
"But--! Mr. Undersecretary, who's been doing all the fighting, and
who's been starting all these wars? The United States? No, sir! We
just get in them too late to do anything but pay all the bills!" He
leaned forward and fixed the tabletop with a piscine stare.
"Look at it this way, the only way. When this whatshisname dies, all
these countries look at the map and start mobilizing the Guards. How
do we know how long he's going to live, or how long he's going to keep
this magic head of his?"
My magic head itched, and I rubbed it.
"Now, here's what I've said before, and here's what I say now--we
can't let the world get away with murder--'murder' is what I said, Mr.
Undersecretary, and 'murder' is what I mean. Didn't you say--now, tell
us the truth, now--haven't you always said that it would be just a
question of time until just about anyone has the secret of the atomic
bomb? Didn't you say that?"
Morgan nodded. "Quite often I've said that, Senator. Too often for
some."
Suggs was triumphant. "All right, now. You've hung yourself on your
own rope and you don't know it. Answer me this; now, what's to prevent
anyone who has the bomb from coming over here and using it on us?
What's to prevent them?"
* * * * *
They had been all through that before, and Morgan knew it was no use
to answer.
Suggs was his own echo. "Nothing's to prevent them, not a thing in the
world. How many times have I come right out and said in public that
the only way to keep the world where we want it is to just make sure
that no one else is going to get it? How many times?"
Morgan rubbed his cigarette in the ashtray and spoke to the table.
"You've said that many times, Senator. That's true, too true. I, on
the other hand, have asked you many times if you've thought that the
only way to make sure no other nation gets the bomb would be to go
right in and make _sure_. You agreed with me that _that_ would mean
force. Force, meaning war. Right, Senator?"
And the Senator, champion of Man and Humanity and Right said, "Right,
Mr. Undersecretary. Right. We have the bomb, haven't we?"
Morgan didn't say much in answer to that. I don't think there was much
he could find to say. Psychologists claim there is hardly anyone,
anyone with a modicum of logic in a brain-pan, who cannot eventually
see the light of reason. Maybe. Maybe calm logic could force Senator
Suggs and his brain-pan off his muddy detour. Maybe humanity and
decency and all the other things that complement the civilized man to
this day lie submerged in that pithecanthropic skull. Maybe, but I
hated his guts then, and I do now.
I cleared my throat, and it must have been louder than I thought,
because all the eyes swung my way. Well, so what? If I had anything at
all to say about what was going to happen, or if I was ever going to
be more than just a rubber stamp, now was the time to find out. After
all, I'd been asked to bring my harp to the party, and I was going to
play.
* * * * *