Level 7

We had no time to introduce ourselves before a loudspeaker addressed us: “Attention, gentlemen! As you see, you are in the Push-Button X Operations Room. You are collectively and individually responsible for this room. This room must never, repeat never, be left unattended.

“Now, let me introduce you to one another. The gentleman near the door is Push-Button Officer X-117; on his right stands X-137; the officer in the centre of the room is X-127; the fourth is X-107, and he is the first on duty. He will be relieved at 18.00 hours by X-117. However, he must not leave the Operations Room until his relief has actually arrived.

“The others may now retire to their rooms. X-117 and X-137 will occupy the room located on their right as they re-enter the corridor from this room. X-127 will occupy the room on the left-hand side, together with X-107.

“Thank you, gentlemen!”

It seemed that our manœuvres were to be just like the real thing: lodgings near the Operations Room, one man always on duty—a perfect exercise, I thought. At the time it did not enter my head that—well, I found out before very long.

We must have appeared on the viewing screen of the unknown person who had introduced us through the loudspeaker, but the thought did not embarrass me. I shook hands with my comrades-in-buttons, exchanged friendly greetings with my fellow-trainee, X-137, and spoke a few polite words to X-107, the one remaining on duty.

The combined living- and bed-room which I now entered surprised me by its smallness. It looked very much like the tiny cabin I had once seen illustrated in a book on military history, in the days before ships became obsolete as an arm of military operations, along with tanks and aircraft. Of course, it was electronic equipment which had crowded out those old sailors. And I decided it must have been the sheer sweat of building anything down here which accounted for the fact that this bed-living-room was made so small.

A pair of bunks, one above the other, occupied most of the space. There was one ordinary chair and another seat which pulled down on a hinge from the wall if a second person wanted to sit down. There was also a desk which worked on the same principle. Under the lower bunk there were several drawers which, to my surprise, were filled with neatly folded uniforms, shirts, underclothes and so forth. Also some writing materials. A door led into a little bathroom, the equipment of which—an excellent shower, washbasin and toilet—compensated somewhat for the economies of the other room.

After exploring my new quarters I decided I would put my feet up for a while. I still felt excited, but the welter of new experiences had tired me. I took off my jacket and shoes, assigned the lower bunk to my companion and lay down on the top one. There did not seem to be anything else to do, anyway.

I do not know how long I lay there like that because I must have fallen asleep for a time. The next thing I remember is hearing a woman’s voice, the one which had come over the loudspeaker in the dining-room, repeat several times, loudly: “Attention please, attention! Attention please, attention!”

The voice was coming from a loudspeaker built into the ceiling of the room. I had not noticed it before. Lying on the top bunk, I had the sensation that somebody was holding me by the lobe of my ear and shouting into it to make sure I did not miss a word.

“Attention please, attention!” is still ringing in my head. Sometimes when I try to relax, take a warm shower, unharness my thoughts from my daily duties and let them loose on the sunny meadows of my terrestrial past, I suddenly realise that my lips are silently forming words. I speak them out loud, and always they are the same words: “Attention please, attention!”

I was lying wide awake now with my eyes open, ready to take in the message. It was very clear.

“Attention please, attention! This message is addressed to all underground forces on Level 7.

“You have been brought here today to serve as the advance guard of our country, our creed, our way of life. To you men and women on Level 7 is entrusted the operation of the offensive branch of the military machine of our country and its allies.

“You are the defenders of truth and justice. Our infamous and treacherous enemy has gone too far in developing his striking-power. In order to make ourselves safe from surprise attack and capable of retaliation, it is imperative that we protect our protectors, that we secure for our security forces the best possible shelter. That is the reason why you have been brought down to Level 7. From here you will be able to defend our country without the slightest chance of danger to yourselves. From here you will be able to attack without being attacked. To the world above you are invisible, but you hold the destiny of that world beneath the tips of your fingers. A day may come soon when some of you will be commanded to push a button, and your fingers will annihilate the enemy and make the victory ours.