"But how?"
"All we knew at the time was that they simply—blasted off. Our radar tracked them as far as the upper reaches of the atmosphere, or rather, the ionosphere. We lost them there. It had been assumed that the enemy somehow infiltrated our defenses with trained agents, who activated all the missiles at once, thus rendering us helpless.
"We had five thousand I.C.B.M.'s, Taylor. During the 1960's and 70's, as you know, the missiles became more and more automatic, especially after the Parkinson feedback device was developed—"
"That's the one in which an H-bomb missile plots its own course to correct for winds and the jetstream and the likelihood of dodging enemy ground-to-air defense weapons?"
"Right. Except for the necessity of blastoff at human hands, the missiles were all but self-sufficient. Almost—well, alive."
"Taylor, we couldn't hide the fact that five thousand I.C.B.M.'s blasted off—those were the rumors you heard." The Chief's haggard face was suddenly lit by a broad grin. "And neither could the enemy."
"You mean—"
"Right! The same thing happened to them. Their missiles are gone too. Somewhere."
"Are you trying to tell me no one did it? Are you trying to say it was the missiles' own idea?"
The Chief nodded slowly. "I didn't believe it at first, either. But our technicians assured me it could happen. You see, the missiles had been given the most perfect feedback device ever developed. It could—virtually—think for itself certainly to the limit of the data it had been supplied with and apparently—beyond that limit. On their own volition, the Free World's and the Enemy's missiles blasted off. Destination and purpose—unknown. Taylor, don't you see what this means? We don't merely have an enemy group of nations to fight. We have, as a new enemy, remorseless, implacable machinery! Brains without conscience! The greatest destructive force the world has ever known, capable of utterly destroying the human race, without a moral sense! Don't you see it, man? They've blasted off and are waiting in space somewhere. Those missiles are capable of extra-earthly flight. They are staging out there, waiting. Can't you picture it? Their brains, groping with new sentience, understanding only that their mission is destruction but somehow they have not been unleashed on it yet, not knowing why, deciding to fulfill their destiny by blasting off, staging, then coming back to destroy human civilization...."