A well-dressed man in dark blue, carrying an attaché case, stepped forward and set the case down on a table with a solid clunk that riveted attention.
“Now,” he said, “we are in a real mess. Very few people on Earth want to get burned alive, poisoned, or smashed to bits. We don’t want a ruinous war. But from the looks of things, we’re likely to get one whether we want it or not.
“The position we are in is like that of a crowd of people locked in a room. Some of us have brought along for our protection large savage dogs. Our two chief members have trained tigers. This menagerie is now straining at the leash. Once the first blow lands, no one can say where it will end.
“What we seem to need right now is someone with skills of a lion tamer. The lion tamer controls the animals by understanding, timing, and distraction.”
The United States and Soviet delegates glanced curiously at each other. The other delegates shifted around with puzzled expressions. Several opened their mouths as if to interrupt, glanced at the United States and Soviet delegates, shut their mouths and looked at the attaché case.
“Now,” the man went on, “a lion tamer’s tools are a pistol, a whip, and a chair. They are used to distract. The pistol contains blank cartridges, the whip is snapped above the animal’s head, and the chair is held with the points of the legs out, so that the animal’s gaze is drawn first to one point, then another, as the chair is shifted. The sharp noise of gun and whip distract the animal’s attention. So does the chair. And so long as the animal’s attention is distracted, its terrific power isn’t put into play. This is how the lion tamer keeps peace.
“The thought processes of a war machine are a little different from the thought processes of a lion or a tiger. But the principle is the same. What we need is something corresponding to the lion tamer’s whip, chair, and gun.”
He unsnapped the cover of the attaché case, and lifted out a dull gray slab with a handle on each end, several dials on its face, and beside them a red button and a blue button.
“It’s generally known,” he said, looking around at the scowling delegates, “that certain mental activities are associated with certain areas of the brain. Damage a given brain area, and you disrupt the corresponding mental action. Speech may be disrupted, while writing remains. A man who speaks French and German may lose his ability to speak French, but still be able to speak German. These things are well-known, but not generally used. Now, who knows if, perhaps, there is a special section of the brain which handles the vocabulary related to military subjects?”
He pushed in the blue button.
The Soviet delegate sat up straight. “What is that button you just pushed?”
“A demonstration button. It actuates when I release it.”
The United States delegate said, “Actuates what?”
“I will show you, if you will be patient just a few minutes.”
“What’s this about brain areas? We can’t open the brain of every general in the world.”
“You won’t have to. Of course, you have heard of resonant frequencies and related topics. Take two tuning forks that vibrate at the same rate. Set one in vibration, and the other across the room will vibrate. Soldiers marching across a bridge break step, lest they start the bridge in vibration and bring it down. The right note on a violin will shatter a glass. Who knows whether minute electrical currents in a particular area of the brain, associated with a certain characteristic mental activity, may not tend to induce a similar activity in the corresponding section of another brain? And, in that case, if it were possible to induce a sufficiently strong current, it might actually overload that particular—”
The United States delegate tensely measured with his eyes the distance to the gray slab on the table.
The Soviet delegate slid his hand toward his waistband.
The man who was speaking took his finger from the blue button.
The Soviet delegate jerked out a small black automatic. The United States delegate shot from his chair in a flying leap. Around the room, men sprang to their feet. There was an instant of violent activity.
Then the automatic fell to the floor. The United States delegate sprawled motionless across the table. Around the room, men crumpled to the floor in the nerveless fashion of the dead drunk.
Just one man remained on his feet, leaning forward with a faintly dazed expression as he reached for the red button. He said, “You have temporarily overloaded certain mental circuits, gentlemen. I have been protected by a ... you might say, a jamming device. You will recover from the effects of this overload. The next one you experience will be a different matter. I am sorry, but there are certain conditions of mental resonance that the human race can’t afford at the moment.” He pressed the red button.
The United States delegate, lying on the table, experienced a momentary surge of rage. In a flash, it was followed by an intensely clear vision of the map of Russia, the polar regions adjoining it, and the nations along its long southern border. Then the map was more than a map, as he saw the economic complexes of the Soviet Union, and the racial and national groups forcibly submerged by the central government. The strong and weak points of the Soviet Union emerged, as in a transparent anatomical model of the human body laid out for an operation.
Not far away, the Soviet delegate could see the submarines off the coasts of the United States, the missiles arcing down the vital industrial areas, the bombers on their long one-way missions, and the unexpected land attack to settle the problem for once and for all. As he thought, he revised the plan continuously, noting an unexpected American strength here, and the possibility of a dangerous counter blow there.
In the minds of another delegate, Great Britain balanced off the United States against the Soviet Union, then by a series of carefully planned moves acquired the moral leadership of a bloc of uncommitted nations. Next, with this as a basis for maneuver—
Another delegate saw leading a Europe small in area but immense in productive power. After first isolating Britain—
At nearly the same split fraction of an instant, all these plans became complete. Each delegate saw his nation’s way to the top with a dazzling, more than human clarity.
And then there was an impression like the brief glow of an overloaded wire. There was a sensation similar to pain.
This experience repeated itself in a great number of places around the globe.
In the Kremlin, a powerfully built marshal blinked at the members of his staff.
“Strange. For just a minute there, I seemed to see—” He shrugged, and pointed at the map. “Now, along the North German Plain here, where we intend to... to—” He scowled, groping for a word. “Hm-m-m. Where we want to ... ah .. . destabilize the ... the ridiculous NATO protective counterproposals—” He stopped, frowning.
The members of his staff straightened up and looked puzzled. A general said, “Marshal, I just had an idea. Now, one of the questions is: Will the Americans . . . ah— Will they ... hm-m-m—” He scowled, glanced off across the room, bit his lip, and said, “Ah... what I’m trying to say is: Will they forcibly demolecularize Paris, Rome, and other Allied centers when we... ah... inundate them with the integrated hyperarticulated elements of our—” He cut himself off suddenly, a look of horror on his face.
The marshal said sharply, “What are you talking about —’demolecularize’? You mean, will they ... hm-m-m ... deconstitute the existent structural pattern by application of intense energy of nuclear fusion?” He stopped and blinked several times as this last sentence played itself back in his mind.