He said, He didn’t feel any pain, and I grew him a new one then and there. Bit of a gamble, but I was sure I could do that by then. I wanted his arm … his material. He didn’t even ask me to explain. That was the kind of guy he was. He and I had grown up on the same street. I’d spotted him for mince pies all the time as kids, so stands to reason he let me cut off his arm and carried a nuke for me.
He added contemplatively, Should still be around here. The arm, I mean. I stuffed it in the morgue so nobody would find it. I’ve got plans for that arm.
Then he took a moment to eat another bright yellow wedge of peach.
After the peach wedge he said, Where was I? G— on his way with the nuke. The ships on the launchpad, twenty hours to go now, less. So much waiting around. Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved. Everyone else drinking. The clock ticking louder than ever before. C— admitting out of nowhere she’s dating N—。 All of us like, What? We’ve known for a year? Go ahead and get married already, we’ve got a nun. N— was all, That’s not legal. C— of all people said, Who cares. That’s how bad it was.
He said, C— and N— got married right over there, you can’t see it now ’cause of the rubbish. I made flowers grow for them out of the garden, but they came out … weird. Some of the roses had teeth. C— and N— thought that was hilarious.
He said, The dome meant we hadn’t had full sunlight in a while. It was beautiful anyway, I cried the whole service. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten food.
He said, An hour and forty-two minutes later, G— landed and made his way to the meetup, and that’s when I had to tell everyone that the nuke was armed and G— was a dead-man’s switch. First I told our contacts, then I had to tell C— and N— and P— and everyone.
He said, They went apeshit. Which I don’t think was entirely fair.
I said to them, You think they weren’t just going to shoot him first thing? You think there aren’t six snipers with beads on G—right now? But they weren’t only aggro about G—， they were aggro that a nuke might go off and kill a couple million people. I was like, Guys, it’s fine, they’re Australian.
He said, Wow. Talk about jokes with no hope of landing.
He said, The contacts stayed pretty calm though. They said, John, we’re not doing anything until you dismantle the switch and disarm the bomb. It’s not a fair conversation if you have this nuke on the table. Also, you will not be hurting any of us with this suitcase nuke. We are not even sitting in that country, so where would that get you? Who would you be hurting, John?
And I said, Yeah, I thought about that.
They said, Did you?
I said, Yes. On that note, do you remember the dead guy you’ve mocked up to look alive, the one who still has executive power over your own nuclear codes, who you gave me total access to?
He said, By that time I had him in position. It was pretty easy. I just made sure that everyone around him wasn’t part of the conspiracy, that nobody around could stop me, and I locked the doors. They gave him—me—the codes. I had his finger on the button. I told them: You have thirty minutes to tell Pan-Euro that there is no way those gates are opening for those ships.
They said, You wouldn’t. It would be nuclear war.
I said, I’d do anything. You know I would. Cows exhibit mourning behaviour for other cows.
He said, At this point my people were like, John, what the fuck? What the fuck is happening? We were all yelling at each other. First time I’d ever seen C— angry. N— and P— were having a go at me too, and the nun and A—’s hedge-fund-manager brother had teamed up to try to mediate, which as per usual made everyone pissed off at them instead. A— and M— were on my side, kind of, or at least the side of this will be fine, we can walk this back, nothing’s going to happen, right, John. I was pissed. I told them it would work. N— was all, It’s not going to work. This is going to end with the ships launching and G— getting shot, and you’re going to kill millions of people for nothing. We followed you to save the world.
I said, We’re doing that. This is how we save the world. Believe me.
C— said, John, your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment.
I said, C—， I was just your best man!
C— said, You still are. That doesn’t change the fact that you can be quite the most appallingly vindictive person I have ever met.