‘Do you understand the colour code?’ Borowitz hoarsely whispered.
Dragosani shook his head.
‘Green is French, blue is American. Do you know what they’re doing?’
‘Charting the location and the movement of submarines,’ said Dragosani, low-voiced.
‘Atomic submarines,’ Borowitz corrected him. ‘Part of the West’s so-called “nuclear deterrent”. Do you know how they do it?’ Dragosani again shook his head, hazarded a guess:
‘Telepathy, I suppose.’
Borowitz raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘Oh? Just like that? Mere telepathy? You understand telepathy, then, do you, Dragosani? It’s a new talent of yours, is it?’
Yes, you old bastard! Dragosani wanted to say. Yes, and if I wanted to, right now I could contact a telepath you just wouldn’t believe! And I don’t need to “chart his course’ because I know he isn’t going anywhere! But out loud he said: ‘I understand it about as much as they’d understand necromancy. No, I couldn’t sit there like them and stare at a chart and tell you where killer subs are hiding or where they’re going; but can they slice open a
dead enemy agent and suck his secrets right out of his raw guts? Each to his own skills, Comrade General.’
As he spoke one of the agents at the desk gave a start, came to his feet and went to a wall screen depicting an aerial view of the Mediterranean as seen from a Soviet satellite. Italy was covered in cloud and the Aegean was uncharacteristically misty, but the rest of the picture was brilliantly clear, if flickering a little. The agent tapped keys on a keyboard at the base of the screen and a green spot of light simulating the location of the submarine to the east of Malta began to blink on and off. He tapped more keys and as he worked Borowitz said:
‘That Froggie sub has just changed course. He’s putting the new course co-ordinates into the computer. He isn’t much on accuracy, however, but in any case we’ll be getting confirmation from our satellites in an hour or so. The point is, we had the information first. These men are two of our best.’
‘But only one of them picked up the course alteration,’ Dragosani commented. ‘Why didn’t the other?’
‘See?’ said Borowitz. ‘You don’t know it all, do you, Dragosani? The one who “picked it up” isn’t a telepath at all. He’s simply a sensitive – but what he’s sensitive to is nuclear activity. He knows the location of every atomic power station, every nuclear waste dumping ground, every atomic bomb, missile and ammo dump, and every atomic submarine in the world – with one big exception. I’ll get on to that in a minute. But locked in that man’s mind is a nuclear “map” of the world, which he reads as clearly as a Moscow street map. And if something moves on that map of his it’s a sub – or it’s the Americans shuffling their rockets around. And if something begins to move very quickly on that map, towards us, for instance . . .’ Borowitz paused for effect, and after a moment continued:
‘It’s the other one who’s the telepath. Now he’ll concentrate on that single sub, see if he can sneak into its navigator’s mind, try to correct any error in the course his partner has just set up on the screen. They get better every day. Practice makes perfect.’
If Dragosani was impressed, his expression didn’t register it. Borowitz snorted, moved towards the door, said: ‘Come on, let’s see some more.’
Dragosani followed him out into the corridor. ‘What is it that’s happened, Comrade General?’ he asked. ‘Why are you filling me in on all these fine details now?’
Borowitz turned to him. ‘If you more fully understand
what we have here, Dragosani, then you’ll be better equipped to appreciate the sort of outfit they might have in England. Emphasis on might. At least, the emphasis used to be on might. . .’
He suddenly grabbed Dragosani’s arms and pinioned
them to his sides, saying: ‘Dragosani, in the last eighteen months we haven’t had a single British Polaris sub on those screens in there. We just don’t know where they go or what they do. Oh, the shielding’s good on their engines, no doubt about it, and that would explain why our satellites can’t track them – but what about our sensitive in there? What about our telepaths?’ Dragosani shrugged, but not in a way that might cause