Cryptonomicon

"The lieutenant has refused to allow me to destroy the codebooks, which it is my sworn duty to do!" Benjamin shouts. He has completely lost his temper.

"I am under very specific and clear orders from Colonel Chattan!" Monkberg says, addressing Root. Shaftoe is startled by this. Monkberg seems to be recognizing Root's authority in the matter. Or maybe he's scared, and looking for an ally. The officers closing ranks against the enlisted men. As usual.

"Do you have a written copy of those orders I could examine?" Root says.

"I don't think it's appropriate for us to be having this discussion here and now," Monkberg says, still pleading and defensive.

"How would you suggest that we handle it?" Root says, drawing a length of silk through Monkberg's numbed flesh. "We are aground. The Germans will be here soon. We either leave the code books or we don't. We have to decide now."

Monkberg goes limp and passive in his chair.

"Can you show me written orders?" Root asks.

"No. They were given verbally," Monkberg says.

"And did these orders specifically mention the code books?" Root asks.

"They did," Monkberg says, as if he's a witness in a courtroom.

"And did these orders state that the code books were to be allowed to fall into the hands of the Germans?"

"They did."

There is silence for a moment as Root ties off a suture and begins another one. Then he says, "A skeptic, such as Corporal Benjamin, might think that this business of the code books is an invention of yours."

"If I falsified my own orders," Monkberg says, "I could be shot."

"Only if you, and some witnesses to the event, all made their way back to friendly territory, and compared notes with Colonel Chattan," says Enoch Root, coolly and patiently.

"What the fuck is going on!?" says one of the SAS blokes, bursting in through a hatch down below and charging up the gangway. "We're all waiting in the fucking lifeboats!" He bursts into the room, his face red with cold and anxiety, and looks around wildly.

"Fuck off," Shaftoe says.

The SAS bloke pulls up short. "Okay, Sarge!"

"Go down and tell the men in the boats to fuck off too," Shaftoe says. "Right away, Sarge!" the SAS man says, and makes himself scarce. "As those anxious men in the lifeboats will attest," Enoch Root continues, "the likelihood of you and several witnesses making it back to friendly territory is diminishing by the minute. And the fact that you just happenedto suffer a grievous self inflictedleg wound, just a few minutes ago, complicates our escape tremendously. Either we will all be captured together, or else you will volunteer to be left behind and captured. Either way, you are saved--assuming that you are a German spy--from the court-martial and the firing squad."

Monkberg can't believe his ears. "But--but it was an accident, Lieutenant Root! I hit myself in the leg with a fucking ax--you don't think I did that deliberately!?"

"It is very difficult for us to know," Root says regretfully.

"Why don't we just destroy the code books? It's the safest thing to do," Benjamin says. "I'd just be following a standing order--nothing wrong with that. No court-martial there."

"But that would ruin the mission!" Monkberg says.

Root thinks this one over for a moment. "Has anyone ever died," he says, "because the enemy stole one of our secret codes and read our messages?"

"Absolutely," Shaftoe says.

"Has anyone on our side ever died," Root continues, "because the enemy didn'thave one of our secret codes?"

This is quite a poser. Corporate Benjamin makes his mind up soonest, but even he has to think about it. "Of course not!" he says.

"Sergeant Shaftoe? Do you have an opinion?" Root asks, fixing Shaftoe with a sober and serious gaze.

Shaftoe says, "This code business is some tricky shit."

Monkberg's turn. "I ... I think... I believe I could come up with a hypothetical situation in which someone could die, yes."

"How about you, Lieutenant Root?" Shaftoe asks.

Root does not say anything for a long time now. He just works with his silk and his needles. It seems like several minutes go by. Perhaps it's not that long. Everyone is nervous about the Germans.

"Lieutenant Monkberg asks me to believe that it will prevent Allied soldiers from dying if we turn over the Allied merchant shipping code books to. the Germans today," Root finally says. Everyone jumps nervously at the sound of his voice. "Actually, since we must use a sort of calculus of death in these situations, the real question is, will this some how save morelives than it will lose?"

"You lost me there, padre," says Shaftoe. "I didn't even make it through algebra."

"Then let's start with what we know: turning over the codes will lose lives because it will enable the Germans to figure out where our convoys are, and sink them. Right?"

"Right!" Corporal Benjamin says. Root seems to be leaning his way.