"My goodness, no," Ford said. "You mean mentally? No, of course not. You're not on the General Staff, so it shouldn't ... it won't ... affect you the way it did the others. Their reaction had nothing to do with the computer _per se_ ..." "Several civilians have used the computer with no ill effects," General LeRoy said. "Ford has used it many times." The CIA man nodded, and they closed the transparent visor over his face. He sat there and watched General LeRoy press a series of buttons, then turn a dial. "Can you hear me?" The general's voice came muffled through the helmet. "Yes," he said. "All right. Here we go. You're familiar with Situation One-Two-One? That's what we're going to be seeing." Situation One-Two-One was a standard war game. The CIA man was well acquainted with it. He watched the general flip a switch, then sit back and fold his arms over his chest. A row of lights on the desk console began blinking on and off, one, two, three ... down to the end of the row, then back to the beginning again, on and off, on and off ... And then, somehow, he could see it! He was poised incredibly somewhere in space, and he could see it all in a funny, blurry-double-sighted, dream-like way. He seemed to be seeing several pictures and hearing many voices, all at once. It was all mixed up, and yet it made a weird kind of sense. For a panicked instant he wanted to rip the helmet off his head. _It's only an illusion_, he told himself, forcing calm on his unwilling nerves. _Only an illusion._ But it seemed strangely real. He was watching the Gulf of Mexico. He could see Florida off to his right, and the arching coast of the southeastern United States. He could even make out the Rio Grande River. Situation One-Two-One started, he remembered, with the discovery of missile-bearing Enemy submarines in the Gulf. Even as he watched the whole area--as though perched on a satellite--he could see, underwater and close-up, the menacing shadowy figure of a submarine gliding through the crystal blue sea. He saw, too, a patrol plane as it spotted the submarine and sent an urgent radio warning. The underwater picture dissolved in a bewildering burst of bubbles. A missile had been launched. Within seconds, another burst--this time a nuclear depth charge--utterly destroyed the submarine. It was confusing. He was everyplace at once. The details were overpowering, but the total picture was agonizingly clear. Six submarines fired missiles from the Gulf of Mexico. Four were immediately sunk, but too late. New Orleans, St. Louis and three Air Force bases were obliterated by hydrogen-fusion warheads.