This situation

This situation lasts seventy years getting worse all the time, now Rumors have started on each side that the other is developing an Ultimate Weapon, and the political parties not in power are agitating to move first before the thing is complete. The observers report War not maybe this year or the next but within ten, and if neither side was looking for an Ultimate Weapon to begin with they certainly are now. Taking all this at face value there seems an obvious solution. I am thinking this over in an academic sort of way when an itchy trickle of sweat starts down my vertebrae. Who is going to apply this solution? Because if this is anything but another Test, or the output of a diseased sense of humor, I would be sorry for somebody. I dial black coffee on the wall servitor and wish B were here so we could prove to each other the thing is just an exercise; I do not do so well at spotting proofs on my own. Most of our class exercises have concerned something that happened, once. After about ninety minutes the speaker requests me to write not more than one thousand words on any scheme to improve the situation and the equipment required for it. I spent ten minutes verbalizing the basic idea and an hour or so on "equipment"; the longer I go on the more unlikely it all seems. In the end I have maybe two hundred words which acting on instructions I post through a slit in the door. Five minutes later I realize I have forgotten the Time Factor. 

If the original ship took a year to reach Incognita, it will take at least four months now; therefore it is more than four months since that report was written and will be more than a year before anyone arrives and War may have started already. I sit back and by transition of ideas start to wonder where this ship is heading? We are still at one gee and even on Mass-Time you cannot juggle apparent acceleration and spatial transition outside certain limits; we are not just orbiting but must be well outside the Solar System by now. The speaker announces Everyone will now get some rest; I smell sleep-gas for one moment and have just time to lie down. I guess I was tired, at that. When I wake I feel more cheerful than I have for weeks; analysis indicates I am glad something is happening even if it is another Exam. I dial breakfast but am too restless to eat; I wonder how long this goes on or whether I am supposed to show Initiative and break out; I am examining things with this in mind when the speaker comes to life again. It says, "Ladies and gentlemen. You have not been told whether the problem that you studied yesterday concerned a real situation or an imaginary one. You have all outlined measures which you think would improve the situation described. Please consider, seriously, whether you would be prepared to take part yourself in the application of your plan." Brother. There is no way to tell whether those who say No will be counted cowardly or those who say Yes rash idiots or what, the owner of that voice has his inflections too well trained to give anything away except intentionally. D. J. M'Clare. Not in person but a recording, anyway M'Clare is on Earth surrounded by exam papers. I sit back and try to think, honestly, if that crack-brained notion I wrote out last night were going to be tried in dead earnest, would I take a hand in it? The trouble is, hearing M'Clare's voice has convinced me it is a Test, I don't know whether it is testing my courage or my prudence in fact I might as well toss for it. Heads I am crazy, Tails a defaulter; Tails is what it is. I seize my styler and write the decision down. There is the slit in the door. I twiddle the note and think Well nobody asked for it yet. Suppose it is real, after all? I remember the itchy, sweaty feeling I got yesterday and try to picture really embarking on a thing like this, but I cannot work up any lather today.