Skyfall

“I want an outside line,” Dillwater said into his telephone. “Operator, I want to place a conference call to the Washington news desks of the television networks. That is correct, CBS, NBC and ABC. Please call me back when the call goes through.” He hung up and faced Bannerman, still speaking softly. “You have about one minute to tell me what this PEEKABOO business is.”

“You're-through, Dillwater,” Bandin shouted. “Out on your ass.”

“I have resigned, Mr. President, from this position in NASA and from any other in your administration. As soon as this present affair is concluded.”

“You are jeopardizing this entire nation, goddamn it, and I could have you shot. PEEKABOO is a very sophisticated twenty-ton package that this country will be mighty glad it has in the case of any emergency.”

“Exactly what does it do?” Dillwater asked.

“In time of emergency, for defense only, this bird carries just about the biggest laser ever made, completely computer controlled to defend itself, take out any missile homing in on it.”

“And why should missiles be homing in on it?” Dillwater said.

“Because PEEKABOO will be hung in orbit zeroed in on Moscow. That laser is powered by a nuclear generator and is probably the closest thing to a death ray that we will ever have. When it is fired it punches straight down through the atmosphere and burns whatever target it is aimed at. Very precisely. It has a map of Moscow and it is very accurate. It can take out the Kremlin without touching a cobblestone in Red Square right next to it, zap the Army barracks without touching the Gum department store adjoining it.”

“I see,” Dillwater said, very quietly.

“Well I don't,” Grodzinski broke in.

Dillwater answered him. “It is a secret violation of our agreement with the Soviets not to militarize space. A weapon that will be placed in synchronous orbit covering Moscow. Once again what we have agreed publicly we evade in secret. The CIA keep their stock of poisons despite orders to destroy them, the FBI keeps lists of radicals and says they have been shredded. And General Bannerman and his military associates build a bomb that threatens the peace of the world.” He turned his head. “And you knew about it all the time, did you not, Mr. President?”

“Of course I did — because I put the safety of my nation first. If you liberals had your way there would be a red flag over this building right now.”

“Mr. President, gentlemen, the present contents of the shuttle do not matter,” Schlocter said, using his skills as an international peacemaker closer to home for a change. “The payload can be removed, stored away, forgotten. The shuttle must be prepared at once for a rescue attempt. Nothing else is possible. Too many people now know of its state of readiness. You have no choice, sir, but to issue orders to that effect.”

“Yon don't have to, Mr. President,” Bannerman said, wheeling about to face Bandin. “This thing can be kept quiet, the leaks can be plugged. PEEKABOO cannot be jeopardized. The project has gone too far. Once it is in orbit we're safe, the Soviets won't dare to try anything.”

Bandin was wringing his hands together, looking for an easy way out of this dilemma that did not exist.

“Mission Control and Prometheus are on the line,” Dill-water said, his hand over the mouthpiece. “And I have the networks waiting on another line. What should I tell them?”

Bandin hammered his fist on the table in a mixture of frustration and rage. “Tell the TV people to hold for a new break. Tell the Cape to get the goddamned bomb out of the bird and under wraps at once. Tell Prometheus that we didn't want to tell them for sure until we knew we could have the shuttle ready, that people have been working night and day,on it and it looks like now there is a chance. And not one word of what has been said in this room ever gets out of this room.”

He dropped back, exhausted. Rubber Bandin had snapped through one last time.

39

GET 26:19

“We are sorry to interrupt this program, ladies and gentlemen, but dramatic new developments have just been reported about the fate of Prometheus.” The reporter clutched the single sheet of paper, fresh from the teletype, and looked briefly into the eye of the TV camera. He knew he was breaking into every one of the network programs across the country, being picked up by radio and sent overseas by short wave. He looked appropriately serious as he spoke.