Bitter thoughts. But on the other hand it had seemed to Harry that Karen pleaded with him, and that she was concerned for him. And any home was better than none.
Anyway, his job was finished here now and he was cold. But he knew that Karen would warm him . . .
A universe away, in the Urals: Major Alexei Byzarnov was present in the Perchorsk core for the latest computer-simulated test firing of the Tokarevs. His 2 I/C, Captain Igor Klepko, was in charge of the test. Klepko was short, sharp-featured, with the dark eyes and weather-worn complexion of his steppemen ancestors. Throughout his preparations, the officer had kept up a running commentary for the benefit of the half-dozen junior officers in attendance. Also in attendance and keeping a close eye on the proceedings from where he stood apart on the perimeter walkway under the inward-curving arch of the granite wall, Projekt Direktor Viktor Luchov was quietly intense, totally absorbed in Klepko’s instructive monologue as it approached its climax.
Two missiles, yes,’ Klepko continued. ‘A dual system. In the field their launching would constitute either a preemptive strike in a hitherto non-nuclear battle zone, or retaliation against an enemy’s use of similar weapons. The first Tokarev would seek out Enemy HQ somewhere beyond the forward edge of the battle area, and the second would home in on heavy enemy troop concentration in the battle zone.
Tor our purposes, however, here in Perchorsk – ‘ Klepko shrugged. ‘While our targets are somewhat more specific, they remain paradoxically conjectural. We aim to detonate the first missile in a world beyond this, er, Gate,’ (with a cursory wave of his hand, he indicated the glaring white sphere behind him), ‘and the second Tokarev while it is still inside the “passage” between universes. The mechanics of the thing are very simple. On-board computers are linked by radio; as the first Tokarev clears the Gate into the far world, contact will be broken; one-fifth of a second later both devices will detonate.’
Captain Klepko sighed and nodded. ‘As for the purpose of this system: if and when used, it will be entirely defensive. You’ve all been shown films of creatures from the other side breaking through into this world. I’m sure I don’t have to stress how important it is that, in future, no further emergence be allowed.
‘Lastly, and before the simulation, there remain the questions of command and personal security.
‘Command: these weapons will only be used on the instructions of the Projekt Direktor, as qualified by the Officer Commanding, Major Byzarnov or, in the unlikely event of his absence, by me. Except under circumstances where a chain-of-command situation has been initiated, no other person will have that authority.
‘Personal security: from the moment the button is pressed the warheads are armed; there will be a delay of five minutes before firing; anyone who remains in Perchorsk at that time will be alerted by continuous klaxons. The klaxons have only one meaning: GET OUT! Exhaust from the Tokarevs is toxic. As a safety measure against the unlikely failure of the Projekt’s ventilation systems, any stragglers will need to employ breathing apparatus until they’ve exited the complex. It takes about four minutes for a fit man to make it out of here from the core into the ravine.
These Tokarevs are weapons; their use will not be experimental but for effect; there is no failsafe. After firing, the system cannot be aborted and we cannot rely on more than sixty seconds before detonation. Which makes a total of six minutes after initiation. The explosion of the device on the far side should have no effect here, but the one in the passage . . . may be different. It could be that the sheer power of the detonation will drive radioactive gases and debris back through into Perchorsk. Hopefully all such poisons will be contained down here in the vicinity of the core, by which time the place will have been vacated and the exits sealed.’
Klepko straightened up and put his hands on his hips. ‘Any questions?’ There were none.
‘Simulation is computerized.’ He relaxed, scratching his nose and offering an apologetic shrug. ‘Bit of a letdown, I’m afraid, if you were expecting a fireworks show. Instead it will all happen on the small screen there in black and white, silent and with subtitles. And no special effects!’