Free Alternate Gerrolds by David Gerrold Page B

eyebrow questioningly; what do you think?
    Bogey chewed on the soggy end of his cigar for a moment before answering. “Colonel, you’re one of the most decent men in the world. Perhaps too decent. You’re certainly too decent for this job. And I wish I had your courage, because you’re speaking what a lot of us have been thinking. But ... I’m also a realist. And there comes a time when even decent men have to do indecent things. That’s the obscenity of war. Especially this one. Lives are cheap. We drop this thing, they’re going to get cheaper still. But if we don’t—well, I don’t see there’s much decency in the alternative.”
    Colonel Peck nodded thoughtfully while he considered Bogey’s words. He nodded and kept nodding. I could see that he was thinking through the logic step by step. That was Colonel Peck. Careful.
    But he never got the chance to finish his thinking. Colonel Reagan unbuttoned his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of orders. He unfolded them and handed them to Colonel Peck. “Colonel, you are hereby relieved of command of this mission. I’m sorry, Greg. I was given those orders last night by General Donleavy. If you showed any signs of not being able to carry out this mission, he told me to place you under arrest and take over.” And then he added, “I hope you won’t make this difficult. Sir.”
    Colonel Peck read the orders without comment. “These appear to be in order,” he said. He passed them to Bogey, who glanced at them, and handed them to me. I pulled my logbook around and wrote in the change of command. My hand shook as I did so.
    “Colonel Reagan, your orders appear to be valid. The mission is yours.” He folded his arms. “You’ve helped me make up my mind, and I thank you for that. The fact that General Donleavy felt that such an order might be necessary confirms the ugliness of this mission.” He glanced at his watch. “We still have two hours before we’re over Berlin. You might spend it thinking about what kind of a world we’ll be living in after you drop that bomb. You too, Bogey, Jimmy.” He looked to Reagan. “Do you want me to ride in the back?”

    “If you promise not to interfere with the operation of this mission, I’d rather you stay up here, sir.”
    “Thank you. I’d like that.”
    Ronnie picked up his microphone then. “Attention, all hands. This is Colonel Reagan. Colonel Peck has been taken ill. I’m taking command. We will proceed with the mission as directed.” He put the microphone down.
    Colonel Peck nodded. “Thank you, Colonel Reagan.”
    “Thank you for your cooperation, Colonel Peck.”
    We flew in silence for a while. The plane droned across the bright green fields of France, heading toward the distant blue mountains and then the long run north toward Berlin.
    “Colonel?” Lt. Laurel’s softly accented tenor came through our headphones.
    “Yes, Lieutenant?”
    “Ollie and I would like to report that the device is armed.”
    “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Reagan glanced at his watch. “You’re ahead of schedule. Good job.”
    Reagan looked around at me, at Bogey. “Either of you fellows having second thoughts?”
    I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Bogey held up his thumb. The thumb. The one he’d use to press the button. I glanced at my watch, then wrote the time in the log. Device armed. The words looked strange on the page.
    I wondered what the people of Berlin were doing now? Were they going about their daily lives without concern, or were they studying the skies and worrying? Did the husbands go to work this morning? Were they busy at their offices? Were the children reciting lessons in their classrooms? Were the wives and housekeepers out shopping for sausage and cheese? Were the students sitting in cafes, sipping coffee and arguing philosophy? Did the orchestras still rehearse their concerts of Beethoven and Wagner? Or was the music cancelled for the duration?
    We flew on in silence. The engines roared and