Milliken shrugged. “That’s all very well, Professor. But the White House wants action that the world can see, not mere information. I quite understand your viewpoint as a scientist, but—”
Tremelo ground his teeth. “Look. The action proposed would, let’s see . . . at a rough estimate . . . ”
He did some quick calculations in his head. “If the tactical nuclear device fails to destroy the pyramid—and I see no reason whatsoever to think that it will succeed—it will increase the pyramid size to plus-or-minus thirty times the size it is now. It would increase the snatch radius to one hundred fifty miles. Damn near from here to Detroit. An area over three hundred miles across would become a no-go area, except for the people the pyramid has refused to take. The pyramid appears to select one person in ten. Mr. Milliken, do you have any idea of how many victims we’d have if there was a sudden increase like that? Or are you proposing that scale of evacuation? We lost sixty-seven people in the last sudden expansion. That also goes into pyramid growth, remember.”
“Detroit!” This NSC man was considerably more intelligent than Harkness had been. Despite his “official certitude,” he was badly shaken.
“Yes,” said Tremelo. “Victim numbers in the hundreds of thousands—to be conservative. Now do you understand why I said it was the stupidest idea I’d ever heard of? And that’s not all. We’ve established that the thing is moving. Satellite imaging shows us the apex of the pyramid has shifted about five meters since landing, to the northwest. Extrapolating on a straight line, the thing is headed directly toward the spot which was formerly occupied by the west stands of Staggs Field.”
That item of information clearly meant nothing to Milliken. Tremelo explained: “That is exactly where the first controlled nuclear fission reaction took place, back during World War II.”
Milliken’s face was still blank with incomprehension. Tremelo was unable to completely suppress his anger. “Think, damn it! What drew that alien device to Earth in the first place? What signaled our existence to it? What was it homing on?”
Milliken wasn’t actually stupid. His eyes began to widen.
Miggy nodded. “That’s right. Nuclear power. I’m now almost certain that thing is an unmanned probe, guided by artificial intelligence.” His lips quirked. “Un-aliened probe, I should say. But if I’m right, it means it’s programmed to hit a certain target, and is now making the final adjustment. It was the fact that we developed a nuclear capability which attracted alien attention in the first place. Which, in turn, tells me that this thing they sent isn’t in the least bit worried about a nuclear counterstrike.”
Miggy frowned. “Almost the opposite, actually—I’m seriously beginning to think it’s trying to provoke us into using one.”
Milliken took a deep breath. “I’ll make this very clear to the NSC, Professor. But we need to do something.”
Tremelo stared at him. ” ‘Do something,’ ” he mimicked savagely. “When you don’t know what you’re doing, Milliken, ‘doing something’ can be as stupid as removing an appendix with a chain saw.”
“The government’s got to do something,” repeated Milliken. “It’ll look bad if we don’t.”
* * *
The Krim device waited. Only twice in the nearly 300 civilizations that the Krim had parasitized had the massive nuclear energy boost it required failed to materialize. Once that threshold was crossed the prukrin dynamic was irreversible.
PART VIII
There may be in the cup
A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom . . .
—William Shakespeare,
The Winter’s Tale
37
Sitting on a tuffet.
The sphinx literally moved between sphinx images or statues. The molding on the temple in Asia Minor owed more to the Persian period of Phoenician history than it did to ancient Greek settlements in Asia Minor. But that didn’t seem to worry Throttler.
High above in the clear sky were two gleaming tasseled bronze arrows, diving inwards. Medea’s dragons had been waiting.
Bitar and Smitar were beside themselves. They squirmed, bounced and fawned around Lamont, as if he’d just returned from the dead.
“fStarving! We haven’t had a bite . . . jufst thofse fseamen. Nothing. fSince you left ufs!” Smitar’s accusing, soup-plate-sized slanty eyes were full of misery.
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