Tremelo shook his head. "That's insanity. Look, we just don't know enough about it yet. We have only the one survivor—"
Milliken shrugged. "Unfortunately, he's still in the intensive care unit, and it appears that his mental state is . . . precarious. He certainly can't tell us much." The NSC man squared his shoulders. "The United States Government can't be perceived as just sitting on its hands while the lightning strikes, Professor Tremelo. Steps must be seen to be taken."
Tremelo steepled his fingers and glanced at Marie Jackson. His new assistant had been bringing two cups of coffee into his office and had heard Milliken's last remark. Seeing her eyes roll sarcastically, Miggy fought down a laugh.
"Mister Milliken. Steps seen to be taken, which fail or backfire, are far worse for our prestige. News about the effect of the bomb-pumped laser leaked. We've stopped that leak. But the fact is, we gave it our best shot, and the result was that the pyramid grew by twenty-three percent and increased its snatch radius to over two miles."
Marie set the coffee cups down in front of Tremelo and Milliken. Tremelo nodded his head in thanks. As Marie walked back toward her own little office, now behind Milliken's back, she began making vigorous motions with her arms. As if she were swinging a sledgehammer. Miggy really had to struggle not to laugh this time.
The sight of Milliken's expression—Official Set Upon Upholding The Party Line—quelled his amusement. Tremelo leaned forward and spoke forcefully. "It is not true, for starters, that we have 'not progressed at all.' We've so far made three important discoveries."
He began ticking off on his fingers. "First, that the alien artifact absorbs all the energy we put into trying to penetrate or destroy it. The energy taken in is directly proportional to its growth. Second, it grows in size and increases its snatch range by a small but measurable amount for each victim. Third—and most important, in my opinion—we've established that if you've been inside the perimeter for at least five hours, and not been snatched—you appear to be safe."
Milliken shrugged. "That's all very well, Professor. But the White House wants action that the world can see, not mere information. I quite understand your viewpoint as a scientist, but—"
Tremelo ground his teeth. "Look. The action proposed would, let's see . . . at a rough estimate . . . "
He did some quick calculations in his head. "If the tactical nuclear device fails to destroy the pyramid—and I see no reason whatsoever to think that it will succeed—it will increase the pyramid size to plus-or-minus thirty times the size it is now. It would increase the snatch radius to one hundred fifty miles. Damn near from here to Detroit. An area over three hundred miles across would become a no-go area, except for the people the pyramid has refused to take. The pyramid appears to select one person in ten. Mr. Milliken, do you have any idea of how many victims we'd have if there was a sudden increase like that? Or are you proposing that scale of evacuation? We lost sixty-seven people in the last sudden expansion. That also goes into pyramid growth, remember."
"Detroit!" This NSC man was considerably more intelligent than Harkness had been. Despite his "official certitude," he was badly shaken.
"Yes," said Tremelo. "Victim numbers in the hundreds of thousands—to be conservative. Now do you understand why I said it was the stupidest idea I'd ever heard of? And that's not all. We've established that the thing is moving. Satellite imaging shows us the apex of the pyramid has shifted about five meters since landing, to the northwest. Extrapolating on a straight line, the thing is headed directly toward the spot which was formerly occupied by the west stands of Staggs Field."
That item of information clearly meant nothing to Milliken. Tremelo explained: "That is exactly where the first controlled nuclear fission reaction took place, back during World War II."
Milliken's face was still blank with incomprehension. Tremelo was unable to completely suppress his anger. "Think, damn it! What drew that alien device to Earth in the first place? What signaled our existence to it? What was it homing on?"
Milliken wasn't actually stupid. His eyes began to widen.
Miggy nodded. "That's right. Nuclear power. I'm now almost certain that thing is an unmanned probe, guided by artificial intelligence." His lips quirked. "Un-aliened probe, I should say. But if I'm right, it means it's programmed to hit a certain target, and is now making the final adjustment. It was the fact that we developed a nuclear capability which attracted alien attention in the first place. Which, in turn, tells me that this thing they sent isn't in the least bit worried about a nuclear counterstrike."
Miggy frowned. "Almost the opposite, actually—I'm seriously beginning to think it's trying to provoke us into using one."
Milliken took a deep breath. "I'll make this very clear to the NSC, Professor. But we need to do something."
Tremelo stared at him. " 'Do something,' " he mimicked savagely. "When you don't know what you're doing, Milliken, 'doing something' can be as stupid as removing an appendix with a chain saw."
"The government's got to do something," repeated Milliken. "It'll look bad if we don't."
The Krim device waited. Only twice in the nearly 300 civilizations that the Krim had parasitized had the massive nuclear energy boost it required failed to materialize. Once that threshold was crossed the prukrin dynamic was irreversible.