Read Online The Best Alternate History Stories of the 20th Century by Harry Turtledove - Free Book Online Page A

after reading a bunch of westerns he tried to rob a train. They tossed him in jail.” He laughed shortly. “Books are full of crap.”
    “Not all of them,” the priest said. “Besides, you weren’t trying to rob a train.”
    They laughed at the notion. “Did you read that story?”
    “No.”
    “It was the strangest book—there were two stories in it, and they alternated chapter by chapter, but they didn’t have a thing to do with each other! I didn’t get it.”
    “...Maybe the writer was trying to say that everything connects to everything else.”
    “Maybe. But it’s a funny way to say it.”
    “I like it.”
    And so they passed the time, talking.
     
    So it was the priest who was the one to come by and tell January that his request for a Presidential pardon had been refused. Getty said awkwardly, “It seems the President approves the sentence.”
    “That bastard,” January said weakly. He sat on his cot.
    Time passed. It was another hot, humid day.
    “Well,” the priest said. “Let me give you some better news. Given your situation I don’t think telling you matters, though I’ve been told not to. The second mission—you know there was a second strike?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, they missed too.”
    “What?” January cried, and bounced to his feet. “You’re kidding!”
    “No. They flew to Kokura, but found it covered by clouds. It was the same over Nagasaki and Hiroshima, so they flew back to Kokura and tried to drop the bomb using radar to guide it, but apparently there was a—a genuine equipment failure this time, and the bomb fell on an island.”
    January was hopping up and down, mouth hanging open, “So we n-never—”
    “We never dropped an atom bomb on a Japanese city. That’s right.” Getty grinned. “And get this—I heard this from my superior—they sent a message to the Japanese government telling them that the two explosions were warnings, and that if they didn’t surrender by September first we would drop bombs on Kyoto and Tokyo, and then wherever else we had to. Word is that the Emperor went to Hiroshima to survey the damage, and when he saw it he ordered the Cabinet to surrender. So...”
    “So it worked,” January said. He hopped around, “It worked, it worked!”
    “Yes.”
    “Just like I said it would!” he cried, and hopping before the priest he laughed.
    Getty was jumping around a little too, and the sight of the priest bouncing was too much for January. He sat on his cot and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
    “So—” he sobered quickly. “So Truman’s going to shoot me anyway, eh?”
    “Yes,” the priest said unhappily. “I guess that’s right.”
    This time January’s laugh was bitter. “He’s a bastard, all right. And proud of being a bastard, which makes it worse.” He shook his head. “If Roosevelt had lived...”
    “It would have been different,” Getty finished. “Yes. Maybe so. But he didn’t.” He sat beside January. “Cigarette?” He held out a pack, and January noticed the white wartime wrapper. He frowned.
    “Oh. Sorry.”
    “Oh well. That’s all right.” January took one of the Lucky Strikes, lit up. “That’s awfully good news.” He breathed out. “I never believed Truman would pardon me anyway, so mostly you’ve brought good news. Ha. They missed . You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.”
    “I think I do.”
    January smoked the cigarette.
    “...So I’m a good American after all. I am a good American,” he insisted, “no matter what Truman says.”
    “Yes,” Getty replied, and coughed. “You’re better than Truman any day.”
    “Better watch what you say, Father.” He looked into the eyes behind the glasses, and the expression he saw there gave him pause. Since the drop every look directed at him had been filled with contempt. He’d seen it so often during the court-martial that he’d learned to stop looking; and now he had to teach himself to see again. The priest looked at him