Babel-17

by Samuel R. Delany

“GROSS, UNCIVILIZED WEAPONS.” THE Baron gestured toward the row of plastic cylinders increasing in size along the rack. “It’s a shame to waste time on such clumsy contraptions. The little one there can demolish an area of about fifty square miles. The big ones leave a crater twenty-seven miles deep and a hundred and fifty across. Barbaric. I frown on their use. That one on the left is more subtle: it explodes once with enough force to demolish a good size building, but the bomb casing itself is hidden and unhurt under the rubble. Six hours later it explodes again and does the damage of a fair-sized atomic bomb. This leaves the victims enough time to concentrate their reclamation forces, all sorts of reconstruction workers, Red Cross nurses, or whatever the Invaders call them, lots of experts determining the size of the damage. Then poof. A delayed hydrogen explosion, and a good thirty or forty miles crater. It doesn’t do as much physical damage as even the smallest of these others, but it gets rid of a lot of equipment and busybody dogooders. Still, a schoolboy’s weapon. I keep them in my own personal collection just to show them we have standard fare.” She followed him through the archway into the next hall. There were filing cabinets along the wall and a single display case in the center of the room. “Now here is one I’m justly proud of.” The Baron walked to the case and the transparent walls fell apart. “What,” Rydra asked, “exactly is it?” “What does it look like?” “A…...