Sleeping Giants (Themis Files #1)(36)

—They are bluffing. You know that.

—So are we. Bluffing doesn’t mean what it used to. No one wants an all-out war, and everyone knows it. Both sides know the other doesn’t want a fight, so we push each other against the wall, a tiny bit further every time. It’s all about saving face but, basically, we’re playing chicken, and both sides think that they can do whatever they want because the other guy will never use its nuclear arsenal. It probably won’t be today, but someday…someday one of us is gonna be terribly wrong.

We’ve deployed our attack subs, of course. If China steps in, we’ll send even more ships to go against their ships. Our aircraft carriers are already on full alert. If we send them out anywhere in the general direction of Asia, they’re gonna launch everything they have and send it our way. You can see where this is going.

Nothing good has ever come of a naval standoff. I know it looks big on the map, but an ocean can get crowded real fast, and I sure as hell don’t like putting my fate in the hands of a dozen half-blind sub captains trying not to bump into anything.

—Do we really need to always respond in kind? Could we not simply do nothing and let the Russians posture for a few days? I never understood the merits of proportional response.

—I’m not sure there are any. It’s just what we call human nature for people with too much firepower in their hands. Ever been in a bar fight?

—I assume this is a rhetorical question.

—Well, that’s how it starts. You bump into someone, make them spill their drink. They yell at you and push you away. You pretend that you apologized while you poke at their chest. Everybody “proportionally responds” until someone gets their teeth knocked out. No one really wants to fight, but no one wants to be the one to back off either. It’s a hundred times worse with military men, and a hundred times more so with politicians.

So we’re gonna do our thing, they’re gonna do their thing, and if we’re really lucky we won’t send twenty million people to their deaths in the process.

—We were all aware of the risks when we agreed on this course of action.

—That’s a bit…That’s a pretty distorted way of looking at the situation, don’t you think?

—How so?

—We didn’t exactly agree on anything. You presented us with a fait accoupli. You told us what you were doing after the fact and you threatened…

—Accompli.

—What?

—The expression is: a fait accompli. It means done deed. Accoupli is not even a word. I never understood why people use words they do not understand.

I made my intentions abundantly clear when I asked for your assistance. You chose to help. You did not have to supply troops. You could have said no. You also had the means to stop me at any time. You could, at any point, have had me and every member of my team arrested, imprisoned, or even killed. Had you said nothing, it would have been the perfect example of a tacit agreement, but you went farther and you set out certain conditions, under which I would have “the full support of this administration.” I can understand your desire to distance yourself from this decision, given the current state of affairs, but you did make a choice. That choice will not cease to be yours because a lot of people might die as a result.

—What about you? You’re fine with that? The end justifies the means, is that it?

—You make it sound as if I were irrational. Yes. I do think this particular end justifies considerable means. I draw the line somewhere, like everyone else. I just draw it based on reason and not emotions.

—So you’d let a few hundred people die? Would you stop for a thousand? How many lives are you willing to sacrifice for this? A million?

—Certainly not. But a thousand seems like a reasonable figure.

—You’re an asshole, you know that? Isn’t that just a bit arbitrary?

—Of course it is. Most things are. Eight people died while we raced the Soviets to the moon. Another fourteen lost their lives in the Challenger and Columbia accidents, and yet the space program is still around. Space exploration is important enough to justify the death of twenty-two people. Had 22,000 people died, things might have been different.

We lost about three hundred soldiers liberating Kuwait. Most would think that was reasonable. Over four thousand Americans died in Iraq. Some might say it was too high a price to get rid of Saddam Hussein, some might not. Obviously, the Administration thought that it was worth it at the time.

Over twenty million soldiers died during World War II. Twenty million, in the military alone. There had to be a lot of people who believed that their particular end justified some unfathomable means.

I honestly believe that what we are doing is much more important than going to the moon, or getting our hands on a few barrels of oil. In my opinion, it more readily compares with inventing the wheel, or making fire. I realize that others might disagree. I wish I could tell you exactly how many lives this is worth losing, but I cannot. At some point we might decide that we could live with 1,151 dead, but not 1,152. It is, by definition, arbitrary.

What I can tell you is this: in an underground warehouse in Denver, there is definite proof that we are not alone in the universe, undeniable evidence that there are civilizations literally thousands of years ahead of us technologically, and we are drawing closer to being able to use some of that knowledge. This can be a leap of monumental proportions for all mankind, and not just from a technological standpoint. This will change the way we think of the world, the way we see ourselves. This will reshape this planet, and we have an opportunity to help steer that change. How many lives is that worth to you?