hours later the King made a speech from the throne that violated all
constitutional precedent, for it had not been written by a Prime Minister.
In this greater crisis in his reign, his voice was clear and unlabored; it
sold the idea to England and a national coalition government was formed.
I don’t know whether we would have dusted London to enforce our terms or
not; Manning thinks we would have done so. I suppose it depended on the
character of the President of the United States, and there is no way of
knowing about that since we did not have to do it.
The United States, and in particular the President of the United States,
was confronted by two inescapable problems. First, we had to consolidate
our position at once, use our temporary advantage of an overwhelmingly
powerful weapon to insure that such a weapon would not be turned on us.
Second, some means had to be worked out to stabilize American foreign
policy so that it could handle the tremendous power we had suddenly had
thrust upon us.
The second was by far the most difficult and serious. If we were to
establish a reasonably permanent peace—say a century or so—through a
monopoly on a weapon so powerful that no one dare fight us, it was
imperative that the policy under which we acted be more lasting than
passing political administrations. But more of that later—
The first problem had to be attended to at once—time was the heart of it.
The emergency lay in the very simplicity of the weapon. It required nothing
but aircraft to scatter it and the dust itself, which was easily and
quickly made by anyone possessing the secret of the Karst-Obre process and
having access to a small supply of uranium-bearing ore.
But the Karst-Obre process was simple and might be independently developed
at any time. Manning reported to the President that it was Ridpath’s
opinion, concurred in by Manning, that the staff of any modern radiation
laboratory should be able to work out an equivalent technique in six weeks,
working from the hint given by the events in Berlin alone, and should then
be able to produce enough dust to cause major destruction in another six
weeks.
Ninety days—ninety days provided they started from scratch and were not
already halfway to their goal. Less than ninety days—perhaps no time at
all—
By this time Manning was an unofficial member of the cabinet; “Secretary of
Dust,” the President called him in one of his rare jovial moods. As for me,
well, I attended cabinet meetings, too. As the only layman who had seen the
whole show from beginning to end, the President wanted me there.
I am an ordinary sort of man who, by a concatenation of improbabilities,
found himself shoved into the councils of the rulers. But I found that the
rulers were ordinary men, too, and frequently as bewildered as I was.
But Manning was no ordinary man. In him ordinary hard sense had been raised
to the level of genius. Oh, yes, I know that it is popular to blame
everything on him and to call him everything from traitor to mad dog, but I
still think he was both wise and benevolent. I don’t care how many
second-guessing historians disagree with me.
“I propose,” said Manning, “that we begin by immobilizing all aircraft
throughout the world.”
The Secretary of Commerce raised his brows. “Aren’t you,” he said, “being a
little fantastic, Colonel Manning?”
“No, I’m not,” answered Manning shortly. “Im being realistic. The key to
this problem is aircraft. Without aircraft the dust is an inefficient
weapon. The only way I see to gain time enough to deal with the whole
problem is to ground all aircraft and put them out of operation. All
aircraft, that is, not actually in the service of the United States Army.
After that we can deal with complete world disarmament and permanent
methods of control.”
“Really now,” replied the Secretary, “you are not proposing that commercial
airlines be put out of operation. They are an essential part of world
economy. It would be an intolerable nuisance.”
“Getting killed is an intolerable nuisance, too,” Manning answered