Another member of the staff spoke up hesitantly, “Sir, I’m not exactly sure what you have in mind, but I had a thought back there that struck me as a good workable plan to deconstitutionalize the whole American government in five years by unstructing their political organization through intrasocietal political action simultaneously on all levels. Now—”
“Ah,” said another general, his eyes shining with an inward vision, “I have a better plan. Banana embargo. Listen—”
A fine beading of perspiration appeared on the marshal’s brow. It had occurred to him to wonder if the Americans had somehow just landed the ultimate in foul blows. He groped mentally to try to get his mind back on the track.
At this moment, two men in various shades of blue were sitting by a big globe in the Pentagon building staring at a third man in an olive-colored uniform. There was an air of embarrassment in the room.
At length, one of the men in blue cleared his throat. “General, I hope your plans are based on something a little clearer than that. I don’t see how you can expect us to cooperate with you in recommending that kind of a thing to the President. But now, I just had a remarkable idea. It’s a little unusual; but if I do say so, it’s the kind of thing that can clarify the situation instead of sinking it in hopeless confusion. Now, what I propose is that we immediately proceed to layerize the existent trade routes in depth. This will counteract the Soviet potential nullification of our sea-borne surface-level communications through their underwater superiority. Now, this involves a fairly unusual concept. But what I’m driving at—” .
“Wait a minute,” said the general, in a faintly hurt tone. “You didn’t get my point. It may be that I didn’t express it quite as I intended. But what I mean is, we’ve got to really bat those bricks all over the lot. Otherwise, there’s bound to be trouble. Look—”
The man in Air Force blue cleared his throat. “Frankly, I’ve always suspected there was a certain amount of confusion in both your plans. But I never expected anything like this. Fortunately, I have an idea—”
At the United Nations, the American and Russian delegates were staring at the British delegate, who was saying methodically, “Agriculture, art, literature, science, engineering, medicine, sociology, botany, zoology, beekeeping, tins mi thing, speleology, wa .. . w . .. milita ... mili... mil ... hm-m-m... sewing, needlework, navigation, law, business, barrister, batt... bat... ba— Can’t say it.”
“In other words,” said the United States delegate, “we’re mentally hamstrung. Our vocabulary is gone as regards ... ah— That is, we can talk about practically anything, except subjects having to do with...er ... strong disagreements.”
The Soviet delegate scowled. “This is bad. I just had a good idea, too. Maybe—” He reached for pencil and paper.
A guard came in scowling. “Sorry, sir. There’s no sign of any such person in the building now. He must have gotten away.”
The Soviet delegate was looking glumly at his piece of paper. “Well,” he said, “I do not think I would care to trust the safety of my country to this method of communication.”
Staring up at him from the paper were the words:
“Instructions to head man of Forty-fourth Ground-Walking Club. Seek to interpose your club along the high ground between the not-friendly-to-us fellows and the railway station. Use repeated strong practical urging procedures to obtain results desired.”
The United States delegate had gotten hold of a typewriter, slid in a piece of paper, typed rapidly, and was now scowling in frustration at the result.
The Soviet delegate shook his head. “What’s the word for it? We’ve been bugged. The section of our vocabulary dealing with... with... you know what I mean...that section has been burned out.”
The United States delegate scowled. “Well, we can still stick pins in maps and draw pictures. Eventually we can get across what we mean.”
“Yes, but that is no way to run a wa... wa.. . a strong disagreement. We will have to build up a whole new vocabulary to deal with the subject.”
The United States delegate thought it over, and nodded. “All right.” he said. “Now, look. If we’re each going to have to make new vocabularies, do we want to end up with ... say... sixteen different words in sixteen different languages all for the same thing? Take a... er... ‘strong disagreement.’ Are you going to call it ‘gosnik’ and we call it ‘gack’ and the French call it ‘gouk’ and the Germans call it ‘Gunck’? And then we have to have twenty dozen different sets of dictionaries and hundreds of interpreters so we can merely get some idea what each other is talking about?”
“No,” said the Soviet delegate grimly. “Not that. We should have an international commission to settle that. Maybe there, at least, is something we can agree on. Obviously, it is to everyone’s advantage not to have innumerable new words for the same thing. Meanwhile, perhaps... ah... perhaps for now we had better postpone a final settlement of the present difficulty.”
Six months later, a man wearing a tightly belted trench-coat approached the Pentagon building.
A man carrying a heavy suitcase strode along some distance from the Kremlin.
A taxi carrying a well-dressed man with an attaché case cruised past the United Nations building.
Inside the United Nations building, the debate was getting hot. The Soviet delegate said angrily:
“The Soviet Union is the most scientifically advanced and unquestionably the most gacknik nation on Earth. The Soviet Union will not take dictation from anybody. We have given you an extra half-year to make up your minds, and now we are going to put it to you bluntly:
“If you want to cush a gack with us over this issue, we will mongel you. We will grock you into the middle of next week. No running dog of a capitalist imperialist will get out in one piece. You may hurt us in the process, but we will absolutely bocket you. The day of decadent capitalism is over.”
A rush of marvelous dialectic burst into life in the Soviet delegate’s mind. For a split instant he could see with unnatural clarity not only why, but how, his nation’s philosophy was bound to emerge triumphant—if handled properly—and even without a ruinous gack, too.
Unknown to the Soviet delegate, the United States delegate was simultaneously experiencing a clear insight into the stunning possibilities of basic American beliefs, which up to now had hardly been tapped at all.
At the same time, other delegates were sitting straight, their eyes fixed on distant visions.
The instant of dazzling certainty burnt itself out.
“Yes,” said the Soviet delegate, as if in a trance. “No need to even cush a gack. Inevitably, victory must go to communi... commu ... comm... com—” He stared in horror.
The American delegate shut his eyes and groaned. “Capi-talis ... capita ... capi... cap ... rugged individu .. . rugged indi... rugge ... rug ... rug—” He looked up. “Now we’ve got to have another conference. And then, on top of that, we’ve got to somehow cram our new definitions down the throats of the thirty per cent of the people they don’t reach with their device.”
The Soviet delegate felt for his chair and sat down heavily. “Dialectic materia ... dialecti... dial... dia—” He put his head in both hands and drew in a deep shuddering breath.
The British delegate was saying, “Thin red li... thin re ... thin ... thin— This hurts.”
“Yes,” said the United States delegate. “But if this goes on, we may end up with a complete, new, unified language. Maybe that’s the idea.”