The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - chapter 4 Temperance- 4.3
Imported from SF2 with no description.
“‘Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’” Master Tartarus paced in a circle at the center of the lecture hall, where a massive, projected fireball slowly rose beside him. “This was the first use of a large-scale destructive weapon. Some believe it triggered an unstoppable chain reaction toward the end of the world.” He snapped his fingers, freezing the projection in place. The details were so vivid it felt as if the scorching heat, powerful enough to consume everything, could be felt against our skin. “Others, however, argue that the principle of mutually assured destruction was the key factor in laying the foundation for the peace that followed for centuries.” The black wolf scanned the hall, making a welcoming gesture. “Thoughts?”
“If it could swiftly end a prolonged war, wouldn’t that be more efficient overall?” said a Wood. A few heads turned to look at him. “So perhaps this kind of destructive weapon contributed more to peace than it threatened it.”
“But does it still seem acceptable if the weapon’s target is civilians?” The master pressed him further.
“If the state of war drags on too long, civilians are bound to die anyway.” The Wood shrugged. “Being vaporized instantly has to be better than dying slowly from starvation, exposure, or disease.”
“That’s assuming this kind of mass destruction truly leads to peace talks! And what about those who aren’t so ‘lucky’ to be vaporized on the spot?” A red deer retorted, his voice laced with anger that echoed around the hall, drawing my attention to other herbivores who, though hiding their emotions, clearly looked unsettled. “The decision to surrender was largely due to the unbearable strain of multi-front combat and related logistical issues.” The red deer cast a sharp glance at that Wood. “And we haven’t even discussed the second bombing at Nagasaki, which was completely unnecessary!”
“It seems someone has done their homework,” Tartarus cut in, halting the Wood’s response. The brown wolf flattened his ears and lowered his muzzle after a quick look at the master. “We’ll come back to the ethical questions later.”
I noticed the black wolf’s golden eyes glance my way, and my ears instinctively perked up. He smiled at me, making it clear that he wasn’t going to let me shrink away.
“What do you think, Richter?” he asked, his tone indicating genuine curiosity. “Any thoughts?”
“I’d say these are methods and means with their own benefits and drawbacks in different circumstances,” I replied slowly, gradually adjusting to the weight of all those eyes studying me intently. “But if I were to interpret the motives behind deploying a weapon of mass destruction in this scenario as a means for peace—I wouldn’t buy it.”
“Oh?” Master Tartarus raised one eyebrow, his tail rising and swaying slowly from side to side. “How would you see it, then?”
“Victory,” I said evenly, the word escaping my mouth in a calm tone. “They did it because they wanted to win. Just because a war ends doesn’t mean there’s truly peace.” Tilting my head, I decided to clarify my point. “And if peace were genuinely the ultimate goal, then dropping the bomb on their own soil could’ve achieved the same result.”
After finishing, I glanced up at the master.
Perhaps it was because they needed time to digest my words, but shortly after Tartarus broke into laughter, the room erupted in a clamor of raised voices expressing opinions and others firing sharp rebuttals. The master, however, was clearly too amused to stop the rapidly escalating debate from descending into intense arguments.
After a moment, he seemed to regain his composure, wiping the corners of his eyes before snapping his fingers. A powerful pulse emanated from him, silencing the hall immediately.
My fur bristled in response to the pulse, and I was instantly reminded that Master Tartarus ranked above Qana in psychic power.
“An interesting perspective,” the black wolf remarked, narrowing his golden eyes. “And what about the practical benefits of mutually assured destruction for peace?”
“A malicious excuse, or a poorly conceived fantasy that can’t withstand scrutiny,” I replied. I briefly considered toning it down but found myself encouraged by the master’s hearty laughter earlier, letting my words flow freely. “If it were truly ‘mutual’ assured destruction, there wouldn’t be things like ‘Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons’—they’d be ensuring everyone had access to weapons of mass destruction.”
This comment stirred up an even stronger reaction, though this time the responses seemed more aligned.
“What about terrorists gaining access to weapons of mass destruction?” someone asked.
“So you mean to say that only ‘we’ know the ‘proper’ way to use weapons of mass destruction?” I replied calmly, wondering if the previously divided individuals realized they had now taken the same side. I couldn’t help but wonder what they envisioned as the ‘proper’ way to wield such a destructive force. “Are ‘we’ in the right simply because no one can oppose us?” Clenching my fist, I recalled the ferocious power of that miniature star.
“But if everyone had access to such weapons, wouldn’t that drastically increase the risk of a world-ending accident?” another voice cautiously posed.
“Isn’t it a bit late to worry about these things after deciding to build and drop the atomic bomb?” I released my fist, continuing. But at that moment, I felt a strange, unsettling sensation stirring deep in my chest.
I didn’t participate in the discussion that followed; that unsettling feeling distracted me. I tried to look inward, attempting to understand what was happening, but the source of the tumult lay buried too deep to reach, leaving me with nothing.
When I came back to my senses, the discussion had moved on to moral philosophy, touching on moral permissibility, utilitarianism, and the doctrine of double effect. I listened quietly, trying to find some sliver of hope in the perspectives shared.