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elaborate machine. The War Room was the most delicate of man-machines. Most of the time the machines received, analyzed, and made the decision. But just often enough it had been made clear to him that he was the commander. He was still in the profession of making decisions.
    General Bogan knew that his visitors' eyes were probably now adjusted enough so that they could walk down the incline to the Command Desk.
    "Colonel Cascio, will you project the naval situation in the Pacific on the Big Board?" General Bogan said, starting to walk down the slight indine.
    "Yes, sir," Colonel Cascio said and walked briskly ahead of the party. By the time they reached the big central desk he had pressed down a lever labeled PACIFIC, NAVAL. Instantly the picture on the Big Board began to dissolve. The Mercator projection of the
    world disappeared. For a moment the screen was blank. Then in sharp strong outline the entire screen was covered by a map of the Pacific Ocean. Colonel Casdo looked up at General Bogan. "Would you like to start with the Russian submarine layout?" Colonel Cascio asked.
    General Bogan nodded agreement. Colonel Cascio pushed two levers. Suddenly the map of the Pacific contained sixteen red blips. At the same time a small machine at a nearby desk began to click and a tape poured out of its side. One of the red blips seemed to be only a few inches off of Los Angeles. Another was a foot or so due west of Pearl Harbor. The remainder were scattered around the Pacific.
    Raskob went rigid. Unthinkingly he jammed his fedora on his head.
    "Well, sweet Jesus, you don't mean to tell me that all those little things are Russian submarines?" Raskob asked. "That one there looks like it's almost in Los Angeles harbor."
    "Sir, that Soviet submarine is approximately fifty miles from Los Angeles harbor, and in or under the high seas of the Pacific," General Bogan said quietly. "Unless they come within the three-mile limit or give signs of acting in an aggressive manner all we can do is observe them,"
    "Look, General, this looks dangerous to me," Raskob said, "What the hell are they doing with submarines that dose to our shores?"
    "I would presume they are doing the same thing that we do when we send U-2 planes and surveillance satellites around and sometimes over the Soviet border or set up radar stations in Turkey. They are scanning us."
    It was the kind of explanation that Raskob understood. He relaxed slightly. When he spoke his voice had a new hardness.
    "How do you know that those' submarines are Russian and that they are really there?" he asked.
    "Sir, the Navy has spread a pattern of sonobuoys around the Pacific," Colonel Cascio said. "They are extremely sensitive instruments and they pick up any kinds of sounds that are made any place in the Pacific. The information is transmitted to Kaneohe Bay in Hawaii and interpreted by a sailor-specialist there. The specialists are so good that they can tell the difference between a whale breaking wind and a submarine blowing tanks."
    Colonel Cascio turned to the machine on the adjoining desk and tore off the tape. He handed it to Raskob. "When the Big Board is switched to a specific projection a signal is tripped and simultaneously the various memory banks which store millions of bits of information are automatically searched for bits which are keyed to the projection. These come out on the tape."
    The four men bent over the tape which was stretched out on the desk. The first sentence read, "Soviet submarine Kronstadt, two torpedo tubes, operated radar equipment for 30 seconds at 1820 slant line 18 slant line 00. Submerged depth 120 feet, proceeded northwest to point WLDZ at 6.5 knots." The tape went on to give estimates of the fuel level in various Soviet submarines in the Pacific, the number of messages they had transmitted, the time they had been on patrol.
    "If we wanted we could tap another memory bank and get the complete strategic information on the Russian submarine situation around