...a locomotive-size missile that would travel at near-treetop level at three times the speed of sound, tossing out sixteen-plus hydrogen bombs as it roared overhead. Pluto’s designers calculated that its shock wave alone might kill people on the ground. Then there was the problem of fallout. In addition to gamma and neutron radiation from the unshielded reactor, Pluto’s nuclear ramjet would spew fission fragments out in its exhaust as it flew by. (One enterprising weaponeer had a plan to turn an obvious peace-time liability into a wartime asset: he suggested flying the radioactive rocket back and forth over the Soviet Union after it had dropped its bombs.)
As advanced as it was, Pluto was riddled with bigger issues. Even setting aside the moral issues of using such a weapon, the logistics proved tricky, too. In order to keep it from being detected by Soviet radar, Pluto would need to fly extremely low. That was expected. What wasn’t so well considered was the fact that to get to the USSR at those low altitudes, Pluto would have to fly over the US and/or much of our allies in Western Europe. Which means we would have been terrorizing and killing our own people and friends.
And, it’s probably worth mentioning the thing couldn’t be turned off, as such. If this was actually used, that’s less of an issue, since if you’re using it you’re pretty much writing off habitability for wherever you’ve sent it to, so you may as well circle it around until it either crashes or everyone’s dead. For testing purposes, the best option they came up with was ditching it deep into the ocean.