“Yes sir,” the terrified young man responded. “Beginning launch protocols.”
Chapter 43: The Destroyer of Worlds
In the southern New Mexico desert not far outside of El Paso, the men gathered: scientists, politicians and uniformed military officers. This particular stretch of desolate sand was named Jornada del Muerto, Voyage of the Dead, and Tonwen could see why. The air force’s missile test range was normally only home to scorpions, fire ants, rattlesnakes, and not much else. On this day, however, the terrain featured something new.
Located five and a half miles away from Tonwen and the other’s position rose a one-hundred foot tower of steel struts mounted on concrete footings. On top of the tower sat a simple oak platform. The ‘gadget’ had been winched up onto that simple platform two days earlier for a not so simple experiment.
It was a bomb, a big one. So big, in fact that, it would very likely be the most dreadful weapon the human race had ever devised. The men of science working on the project knew this, and in order to make themselves feel better about their work they referred to it as ‘the gadget’; it was enough for some at least.
At its heart, the gadget was a ball of plutonium, which was a metal that did not exist in nature, but was created as a byproduct in nuclear piles. The ball weighed ten pounds and contained every ounce of plutonium known to exist in the world. Some estimated the ten pound ball to be worth nearly a billion dollars, and they were about to destroy it. If it worked, the gadget would be worth every penny.
It was estimated that defeating the Empire of Japan using conventional means would cost nearly a million American service men their lives and completely bankrupt the national treasury. The fanatically loyal Japanese forces were expected to give resistance down to the very last man in brutal fighting ranging from island to island and house to house. If the gadget worked, they could bring Japan to its knees and the war would be over with almost no American casualties. No one could put a price tag on the value of that outcome.
Trinity was the official codename for this test and its countdown began at nine past five with streaks of gold starting to appear in the eastern sky. When the countdown reached zero, thirty-two detonators on the surface of the plutonium ball would go off simultaneously. This would create such powerful inward pressure on the plutonium that it would compress and grow impossibly dense before going critical. At that point, no one except Tonwen knew what would happen next.
Many of the scientists participated in a betting pool, a dollar a ticket, on the force of the explosion measured in equivalent tons of TNT. Some bet as little as three hundred tons. Others went as high as fifty thousand tons, but the official forecast was that an explosive force equal to twenty thousand tons of TNT would be created by that little ten pound ball of plutonium.
A few of the theoretical physicists still nursed concerns about the predicted explosion. According to their calculations, there would be three atoms not consumed by the initial detonation. They genuinely feared these loose particles might cause a cascade effect that would ignite the atmosphere of the entire planet.
Tonwen remembered reading in school that Novi scientists back home, and way, way back in the day, voiced similar concerns when they first tested atomic weapons. The fact that Novus was still in existence when Tonwen’s parents decided to have their child gave him confidence that the Earth would not end this day.
Everyone gathered to view the test near a bunker named S-10000, which also served as the control room for the experiment. Most chose to stand outside the concrete structure believing an explosion over five miles away posed no threat to them.
Tonwen was always the picture of dispassionate calm, but today his emotions oscillated between the extremes of hope and fear. If the bomb was a dud, the Americans would have spent two billion dollars for nothing and in all probability scrap the project. Then who would conduct the costly research needed to develop weapons powerful enough for the Novi crew to destroy the Alpha still eking out an existence on Mars?
If the bomb was not a dud, then Tonwen will have purposely violated every principal he held dear concerning non-interference with another civilization’s Neo Scale developmental path. Handing over designs for a weapon of phenomenal destructive power for a single nation to wield over the rest of the planet certainly qualified as a violation of the Council’s directive. Their actions now were a tremendous risk, but the alternative was even more intolerable.
A green Verey rocket shot into the sky startling Tonwen back to the moment.
“Five minute warning,” the countdown officer shouted.
In these final days of the Manhattan Project, Tonwen felt it strange that security had grown so lax. In the beginning, the ultra-secret project was so thoroughly hidden that an entire city built in Tennessee as a production site did not even show up on any maps. In fact, many companies hired to deliver supplies at first refused the lucrative contracts because the destination did not exist. The project was secretive in the extreme thanks to the planning and protection of Hastelloy’s FBI.
Now, security was uncharacteristically haphazard in Tonwen’s opinion. Santa Fe, the nearest town to Los Alamos Air Force base, was crawling with well-dressed FBI agents. They strutted around town in their tweed jackets and neckties. Compared to the locals who wore blue jeans and cowboy hats, the agents stuck out like a diamond ring nestled among a pile of coal. It was almost as if Hastelloy wanted word to get out that something big was happening in New Mexico; lord knows their Soviet allies were desperate to learn anything about the project.
Another rocket went off. “One minute.”
Tonwen looked around to see most of the visitors were putting on sunglasses even though it was still the dark of early morning. He knew those sunglasses would do next to nothing to protect their eyes as he lowered the visor of a welding helmet over his face and gazed toward the test site.
A gong chimed which seemed tremendously out of place in a desert, “Ten seconds.”
In that instant, Tonwen suffered an impulse to start running away. It was a ludicrous notion; how far could he get in ten seconds? Then before he knew it, the gadget went off.
First there was an awesome flash, impossibly bright and many times stronger than the sun at midday. Then an eerie dome of fire seemed to come out of the ground. With terrifying speed, it grew monstrously high in the sky. It reached the level of the mountains and continued rising and rapidly dwarfed the peaks.
“Jesus…” he heard test director Bainbridge whisper.
The dome morphed into a square. The light was still brighter than noonday and the distant mountains were illuminated to the point Tonwen could see every fold, crevice, and stone without shadow.
Then the shape changed again. A pillar appeared below and seemed to push miles into the sky like a mighty fist. The cloud of boiling fire above the pillar spread like an umbrella until the whole thing looked like a mushroom seven miles tall. The colors in the cloud were hellish orange, purple and green.
Soon after, Tonwen and the other observers were hit by a wave of heat so intense it was as if the devil himself focused the ovens of hell on them. At the same moment, the crack of doom reached their ears, but that was only the beginning. A roar like supernatural thunder rolled over the desert, drowning out all other sound, and rolled on impossibly sustained until Tonwen wondered if this truly was the sound made at the end of the world. At last, it faded away and the mushroom cloud began to disperse.
“It worked,” Tonwen declared to General Groves who oversaw the project for the military. And the world is still here though it is forever changed, he failed to add.
“Now we’re all sons of bitches,” test director Bainbridge uttered in complete dismay.
Tonwen could think of no proper retort other than to quote from a Hindu scripture he found quite appropriate in that moment. “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Chapter 44: The New Man
When President Roosevelt finally succumbed to his illness back in Apr
il, Hastelloy had his doubts if the new man would have the stones necessary to make the big decision. After all, Truman was added to the Democratic presidential ticket to carry the Midwest swing states, not for his ability to lead; but lead he did.
The new president’s first official meeting as commander-in-chief was with Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, along with certain representatives from the Manhattan Project. One day Truman had no knowledge about the project, even as Vice President. The next, he was informed that as President he commanded an awesome new weapon capable of destroying the world if not managed properly. A few short weeks after that, he was then asked to unleash this terrible weapon upon civilians in Japan. To say he shouldered well the sudden burden thrust upon him was a monumental understatement.
When asked to incinerate a city of two hundred thousand people for the sake of saving millions from a prolonged war, President Truman made the call. When asked to do the terrible deed a second time he did not waiver. They were both dreadful, heart-wrenching decisions. Yet both times, he bore the individual hit to his personal moral values for the greater good of his nation. After these two feats of selflessness, Hastelloy now carried nothing but the utmost respect for President Truman. He was his sort of leader.
Today, as director of the FBI, Hastelloy attended a meeting in the oval office with the President. He was the first to arrive and take his seat at the dueling couches near the room’s fireplace. Secretary of State George Marshall soon joined him on his side of the room. Next came Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, along with a virtual who’s who of top military brass from the recently ended wars: Generals MacArthur, Bradley, Groves, and Eisenhower along with the Chairman of the joint chiefs, Admiral Leahy.
Each man carried the same swagger in their step on their way in; like it was high noon - this confident strut. The only thing missing from the picture was them twirling their six-shooters after gunning down their enemies in both the Eastern and Western fronts. They were gods among men in their minds.
Secretary Stimson and his gaggle of officers took up residence on the couch and chairs on the other half of the room leaving the President in the middle to preside over the two opposing ideologies: covert diplomacy, or military action.
The Secretary of War and his supporters wasted no time pressing their agenda for the meeting. While the generals beat their chests about the combat readiness of American forces around the globe, Hastelloy watched the president’s attention turn toward the recently replaced presidential seal in the area rug. Once more it featured an eagle looking toward the olive branch clenched in its right talon. The nation was no longer at war as a result of his bold actions and there was an unmistakable glimmer of pride in his eyes at seeing the subtle change in decor. That subtlety was lost on the war hawks in the room as they droned on about the Soviet threat and the need for the US military to take action.
“You’d think the Japs would’ve surrendered within hours after seeing one of their cities vanish from existence with a single bomb,” General MacArthur stated with contempt. “What a goddamn waste having to do it twice before their emperor saw reason.”
“You disagree with what we did?” President Truman asked. “You think there was another, less destructive or deadly path we could have taken to end the war?”
“Not at all, Mr. President. I was expressing regret that we no longer have a functional nuclear weapon in our arsenal since we had to drop both of them on Japan,” General MacArthur backtracked.
“That second bomb was all we had and will have for another two months,” General Groves, who led the Manhattan Project, added.
“Those are months we could have placed that bomb over Commie airspace in Eastern Europe,” General Eisenhower declared. “The threat alone of it being dropped would have been enough to force Stalin and those other bastards to retreat back into their little hovel of a country where they belong. Instead, they’re busy planting their flag of ownership over the entire eastern half of Europe with aim to move farther west at any moment.”
“Plus, we all know the Reds are sniffing around the Manhattan Project team,” General Groves commented. “Whether they succeed in stealing our research or get there by themselves, we can all agree it’s only a matter of time before the Soviets have their own atomic bomb.”
“At that point all of Europe could go communist and we’d be all alone facing Stalin and his bloodthirsty regime. Hell, China’s already turned red on us and Korea is set to go next,” Admiral Leahy concluded. “We now have a very short window to parlay the superior hand we’ve been dealt into permanent gains toward our nation’s future. We needed that bomb as leverage to take action and deliver ultimatums we could back up with action if required.”
“Why not cut right to the chase? In a few months, when the next bomb is ready, why don’t you go ahead and drop it on Moscow and be done with it?” Hastelloy asked with a straight face. “It’s the only city they have left intact at this point, let’s finish what the Nazis started. I mean, forget the fact that they’re technically still our allies. We can be just like the Germans and launch an unprovoked surprise attack.”
Admiral Leahy’s face began to glow red as Hastelloy continued his satirical rant. “Oh wait, Germany tried that and it didn’t end well for them, now did it? Meh, that’s beside the point. Come on now; let’s go get ‘em for daring to govern in a different manner than us. It’s been a few weeks already, I’m sure the voting public is all set for World War III to get under way by now. I know you fine gentlemen certainly are, how about you Mr. President?”
The admiral looked ready to erupt, but then seemed to have a notion that brought him back down to deliver his calm counter. “You know, you’re right. The average Joe Beer sitting on his porch watching the sunset isn’t very disposed toward fighting another war right now. Why don’t you go and bait Stalin into striking one of our bases like you did with Japan. Just be sure it doesn’t decimate our fighting capabilities quite so badly this time, or that it doesn’t end up killing three or four thousand of our boys.”
Every time the Admiral wanted to get his opinion valued over Hastelloy’s with the President, he dragged out the results of Pearl Harbor and waved them about the room. President Roosevelt fell for it nearly every time since he had never seen fit to forgive Hastelloy for the magnitude of losses suffered in the sneak attack that the FBI ‘orchestrated’. Never mind that the President and congress signed off on the trade embargos that provoked Japan’s predictable reaction.
This was the first time; however, that Admiral Leahy lobbed this particular firecracker into a conversation with President Truman. Hastelloy was curious to see if it would be a mesmerizing show or a complete dud with this new American leader. He was not the only one anxious to see this result as all eyes fell upon the President for a response.
President Truman took a few moments to consider his words carefully and then rendered his verdict, “By my count, all but one of those old battleships damaged during the attack were back in action by the end of the war. As for our casualties, no one could have predicted a direct hit to the Arizona’s ammunition magazine, which accounted for the majority of lives lost that terrible day. Besides, I’m not sure you have much room to complain, Admiral, considering that in the end you did get your war; we all did. It was a distasteful and regrettable evil, but in the end it was necessary and got the job done.”
The Admiral shot Hastelloy a scorn-filled glare. They both knew the power of influence had definitively moved to Hastelloy’s side of the room. A less calculating man would have taken a moment to gloat, but Hastelloy still needed the military’s cooperation and therefore opted to move on to a topic on which they could all agree.
“Look. Just because we carry the biggest stick in the room for the moment doesn’t mean we can afford to be careless with how we wield it,” Hastelloy began. “Furthermore, that big stick is going to look like a toothpick in just a few short years considering the bombs we dropped over Japan were ninety-eight percent duds.”
&n
bsp; “Duds? They both leveled entire cities. Les, tell him,” General MacArthur protested.
“The director’s right,” General Leslie Groves confirmed with a nod, “Only a fraction of the plutonium underwent fission. That means nuclear bombs will get much, much more powerful in the near future.”
Hastelloy simply nodded with raised eyebrows. “A blast equivalent to twenty thousand tons of TNT only released two percent of the weapon’s potential; terrifying thought isn’t it?”
While President Truman and the other half of the room pondered that thought, Hastelloy leaned in and placed his right index finger on the coffee table to accentuate his point. “My bureau can ensure none of our research from the Manhattan Project reaches the Soviets. What I can’t control is what the German scientists who conducted the Nazi’s nuclear development program are forced to reveal to Stalin’s men. There is a tremendous amount of brain power over there, gentlemen. We need to get them here, and I mean yesterday.”
“But they’re all war criminals who need to stand trial in Nuremberg,” General Eisenhower insisted. “They don’t get to design weapons that kill millions and just walk away.”
“In fairness, by that line of thinking we should be forced to turn over everyone involved in the Manhattan Project to stand trial for crimes against humanity,” President Truman said with a finger pointing at General Groves. “I’m afraid that includes you, Les.”
“It’s not the same thing and you know it, Mr. President. Our men did it to stop a war, the Nazi scientists did it to keep one going,” General Eisenhower volleyed back.
“Correction, our men were just following my orders,” the President stated firmly. “So were the Germans. If they didn’t follow Hitler’s orders, we all can guess what would have happened to them and their families.”
“Besides,” President Truman went on, “I doubt Stalin is having this sort of conversation with his KGB or military advisors. Nazism should no longer be a consideration from a viewpoint of national security when the far greater threat of communism is now jeopardizing the entire world. They are going to go after those scientists with everything they have to speed along their nuclear research. In the Soviet’s minds, their very survival as a nation depends on it. How can we get these German scientists over here, Director?”
Origins: The Reich Page 27