Goodbye California - Alistair [72]
‘One further small task, gentlemen. I want each of you to make a brief recording stating that I have in my possession the complete blueprints for the making of a hydrogen bomb in the megaton range. You will make no mention whatsoever of the dimensions, no mention of its code name “Aunt Sally” – what puerile names you scientists give those toys, just another sign of how limited your imagination is outside your own field – and, above all, you will make no reference to the fact that Professor Burnett was the co-designer, along with Professor Aachen, of this bomb.’
Schmidt said: ‘Why should those damn things be kept so secret when you’ll let the world know everything else?’
‘You will understand well enough inside the next two days or so.’
‘You’ve trapped us, fooled us, humiliated us and above all used us as pawns.’ Burnett said all this with his teeth clenched, no mean feat in itself. ‘But you can push a man too far, Morro. We’re still men.’
Morro sighed, made a small gesture of weariness, opened the door and beckoned. Susan and Julie came in and looked curiously around them. There was no apprehension or fear on their faces, just puzzlement.
‘Give me that damned microphone.’ Without permission Burnett snatched it from the table and glared at Dubois. ‘Ready?’
‘Ready.’
Burnett’s voice, though charged with emotion – pure, black rage – was remarkably clear and steady, without a trace of the fact that he had, since his non-existent breakfast, consumed the better part of a bottle of Glenfiddich, which said a great deal either for Professor Burnett or Glenfiddich.
‘This is Professor Andrew Burnett of San Diego. It’s not someone trying to imitate me – my voice-prints are in security in the University. The blackhearted bastard Morro has in his possession a complete set of plans for the construction of a hydrogen bomb in the megaton range. You had better believe me. Also you had better believe Dr Schmidt and Drs Healey and Bramwell – Drs Healey and Bramwell have been held captive in this damned place for seven weeks. I repeat, for God’s sake believe me. This is a step-by-step, fully composited, fully integrated plan ready to build now.’ There was a pause. ‘For all I know, the bastard may already have built one.’
Morro nodded to Dubois who switched off. Dubois said: ‘The first and last sentences, Mr Morro –’
‘Leave them in.’ Morro smiled. ‘Leave them. Eliminates the need for checking on voice-prints. They carry with them the normal characteristic flavour of the Professor’s colourful speech. You can cope, Abraham? Ridiculous question. Come, ladies.’
He ushered them out and closed the door. Susan said: ‘Do you mind enlightening us? I mean, what is going on?’
‘Certainly not, my dears. Our learned nuclear physicists have been doing a chore for me this morning. Not that they were aware of that fact: unknown to them I had their conversation recorded.
‘I showed them a set of plans. I proved to them that I am indeed in possession of the secrets of the manufacture of hydrogen bombs. Now they are proving that to the world. Simple.’
‘Is that why you brought the scientists here?’
‘I still have a further important use for them but, primarily, yes.’
‘Why did you bring us into that room, your study?’
‘See? You are an inquisitive person. I was just satisfying your curiosity.’
‘Julie here is not an inquisitive person.’
Julie nodded vigorously. For some reason she seemed close to tears. ‘I just want out of here.’
Susan shook her arm. ‘What is it?’
‘You know very well what it is. You know why he brought us in there. The men were turning balky. That’s why we were brought up here.’
‘The thought hadn’t escaped me,’ Susan said. ‘Would you – or that dreadful giant – have twisted our arms until we screamed? Or do you have dungeons – castles always have dungeons, don’t they? You know, thumb-screws and racks and iron maidens? Do you break people on the wheel, Mr Morro?’
‘A dreadful