Free Survivalist - 17 - The Ordeal by Jerry Ahern Page A

still ached from the last time.
    “There is confusion everywhere,” Prokopiev said. “If you would allow me to contact my own forces, I could run the raid myself and none of you need risk your lives. It would—”
    “Vassily,” Michael began, “if your people had the nuclear weapons they possess in the Second City, I wouldn’t exactly rest easy. And it’s not a matter of possession. It’s a matter of second guessing just how desperate they are in there, or how stupid, and just what they’ll do with their backs to the wall. What was your intelligence assessment of their technological capabilities? Do you think they have the technical expertise to make something go off?”
    “We had no way of knowing,” Prokopiev said, lowering his head, his face red-tinged by the glow of the heater, his eyes closed.
    “And you attacked the Second City?” Annie said incredulously.
    “All military operations, Mrs. Rubenstein,” Prokopiev announced, raising his head, looking at her, “incorporate a certain amount of calculated risk.”
    “Incalculable risk!” Annie told him. “You guys are nuts!”
    Maria, kneeling beside Michael now, said softly, “Considerable variations of computer models were made concerning the technological abilities of potential survivors of what the Americans refer to as ‘the Great Conflagration’—”
    “The Dragon Wind,” Han Lu Chen nodded.
    “Yes,” Maria went on. “One of the models I found particularly intriguing, however unlikely, seems to fit in here, and because of that more than anything anyone has said, I am
    frightened. The computer model dealt with the concept of the medium of destruction in effect metamorphosing, becoming an object of worship since it had, in effect, spared those who survived to worship it. The logic is primitive but valid. And if such a society were to exist—which seems to be the case of the Second City—the model was extended to incorporate the possibility—statistically closer to probability—that some of the mechanics at least of operating such weapons of destruction might indeed become incorporated among the trappings of such a religion, as part of holy ritual, as it were. In theory, at least,” Maria Leuden continued, sounding very much the Fraulein Doctor, her gray-green eyes sparkling behind the lenses of her wire-rimmed glasses, “such ritual could be graduated, much as was conventional religion, such as was Christianity or Muhammadanism. The Christians, for example, had certain high holy days, such as Christmas and Easter. The Moslems had their feast of Ramadan. There are countless examples. The Jews, certainly, with their various celebrations commemorating events from their history. If the worshippers of the Second City perceive themselves facing some ultimate crisis, as logic would dictate even the most ardent among them must, then those most ardent among them would seek consolation in their religion, perhaps some special ceremony. Such a special ceremony,” Maria concluded, her normally soft alto lowering, “could well include the ritual necessary to arm or detonate a warhead. Sort of calling on the ultimate power of their god, who of course spared them once and, if their propitiations are heeded, would spare them again while at the same time vanquishing their enemies.” Her hands suddenly clasped Michael’s left bicep, very tightly. No one spoke.
    Michael Rourke just stared at the palms of his hands, listening to everyone breathing, to the soft hiss of the heater/cooker, the muted howl of the wind outside, to the slapping sounds as a gust of wind struck at the shelter
    broadside. “We go inside if we can get there. There isn’t any choice.” And, inside himself, he knew he’d be a fool if he didn’t take Maria Leuden with him. What was in her mind might be their only chance for success. Survival beyond that was something his own logic dictated he shouldn’t waste the effort to consider.

Chapter Fourteen
    Paul Rubenstein and Otto