The President was pale, but he sat quietly. "Stalled," Hoshawk thought sardonically. It took something besides smartness to win a war. It took character, too.
Wadsworth pointed to the American shores. Long lines of green and white and black and yellow dots coming from the sea, crawling in among the orange lights that swarmed over America like a gigantic swarm of hornets. "Submarines, amphibian battleships, flame-throwers, tanks," he said.
Hoshawk stood erect. "If it were not against regulations, Sire, I would be tempted to blow my head off. We shall be destroyed as a people and as a continent."
The President's hands were clenched, but he answered slowly, "As a continent, perhaps. But the buildings can be built again. As a people—no, I don't think so. As a civilization, I hope we can be saved."
Hoshawk's eyes narrowed. "How?" he demanded.
"Those purple lights represent sonic transmitters. In other words, generating stations for sound frequencies above the narrow band which can be heard by humans. They were developed, built, and financed by graduate mutants. They broadcast on different frequencies that we have determined most effective in upsetting the equilibrium of unstable chemical compounds."
"Do you mean," asked Hoshawk, "that you are going to try to detonate the explosives carried by Forgacs' planes?"
"His planes, and anything else that carries them. We have analyzed samples of his explosives to determine the critical frequency of each. These nineteen stations cover the country. Any known explosive in the continental United States will be detonated when these stations go into operation."
"What if Forgacs has some unknown explosive?"
Wadsworth was solemn. "We take that chance," he said. "But the range of possible explosive combinations is well known, and something entirely different is unlikely. At any rate—"