Joseph Kanon - Los Alamos

“He won’t go to jail. They don’t want him-he’s the go-between. At the worst, they’d ship him home.”

“Yes? Funny, I can hear the keys rattling already.”

“I don’t understand you. He walked out on you.”

“Well, that’s not quite a prison offense yet, is it? They wouldn’t have enough jails.”

“It’s not about him.”

“It is to me. I don’t want to see him. He’s dead. And I’m not bringing him back to life. Just so you can put him away.”

“Nobody’s putting him away.”

“Well, whatever happens, it would be my doing, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t even know he existed if I hadn’t told you. Before you got your marvelous idea.”

“Calm down.”

“I won’t calm down,” she said. “I suppose you’ve already offered my services. That must have caused quite a stir in the security office. Lord, what a past. Who’d have thought. I didn’t know she went in for that sort of thing.”

“Nobody knows. Nobody’s going to.”

“What made you think I’d do it?”

“I thought you’d want to,” he said evenly. “We’ve got to find out. It’s important.”

“Want to? Why? For the good of the country? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I thought you’d do it for Karl.”

“Karl?” she said, disconcerted. “Karl’s dead.”

“So is Eisler. Maybe somebody else, for all we know.”

“Maybe the whole bloody world. Look, you carry the sword of vengeance. You’re good at it.”

“Emma, I need you to help me. He’ll trust you.”

“What makes you think so? Old times’ sake? Or am I supposed to go to bed with him? Is that it? Maybe you want to watch.”

“Don’t.”

“Is that it? Just like Mata Hari?”

“No, of course not. If you’d let me explain—”

“Oh, you. You’d talk the birds from the trees to get your way. I suppose we’ll be saving the world next. With me on my back.”

“Will you listen?”

“You listen,” she said, giving up on the slip and walking over to the bathroom. “Listen to yourself. You might be surprised what you hear.” She slammed the door behind her.

He sat on the bed for a minute, waiting, but there was only the sound of running water. He put on his pants and went over to the window, turning the slats of the blinds halfway to look out at the dusty parking lot. Her anger had surprised him. It seemed to thrash and spurt like some well that bursts deep down, thwarted till it reaches air. He thought of that night at the square dance, when it seemed no more than high spirits, when he had first wanted her. He wondered if she was douching, washing him away. He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke catch the light. The awful thing was, she was right. He’d waited till they were finished. He’d made love to her knowing he would ask.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was in her slip and her face was still damp with water. She brushed back her hair with her fingers and sat down, crossing her legs with a theatrical calmness. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t bite. Do you have another one of those?”

He handed her a cigarette, not saying anything, so that the silence was an apology. The air in the room settled, all the bad words seeping out the window with the smoke.

“Is it important to you?” she said finally.

“Yes.”

“Yes, it would be, wouldn’t it?” Her lips curled in a kind of amused resignation, as if she were laughing at herself.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“About my father,” she said, almost dreamily. “He got it right, didn’t he? Here’s the room-seedy, that would be his word for it. In the middle of some American desert. That’s about nowhere, or near enough. And I’m sitting here, smoking a cigarette in my slip, like a slut.”

“Emma.”

“No, like a slut. Some man’s sweat still all over me and a husband down the road and another somewhere else-my God. Quite a sight. And my lover. Well, my lover. All very much as he predicted.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I love you.”

“And that makes it all different. Whatever that means.”

“It means I won’t ask you again. I won’t ask anything. Forget it.”

“Could you? No, you may as well ask, now that we’ve started. What, exactly?”

“You mean you’ll do it?”

“I won’t do him any harm. Can you promise me he won’t be harmed? No, never mind. You can’t promise, but you would. You’d lie. You couldn’t help it.”

“I won’t lie to you. Nothing’s going to happen to him.”

“I won’t whore for you.”

“Do you really think I’d ask you to do that?”

“No.”

“Then what’s this all about?”

She turned away, facing the room. “I don’t know. Not wanting to rake up the past, I suppose. Can you understand that? You never know what you’re going to find. I don’t want to go back.”

“It’s just this once. You’d have to sometime.”

“To straighten things out, you mean? Oh, that’s good. Darling, do let’s get a friendly annulment. Meanwhile, here are some lovely secrets for your trouble. Is that the idea? My God, I don’t know if I can do it. I’m not that good a liar.”

“It’s not a lie. The papers are real.”

“I wouldn’t be. He’d spot it in a minute. Why him, of all people?”

“You didn’t have anywhere else to turn. You trust him.” He met her glance.

“Why now? How did I know where to find him?”

“You’ve known for some time. You just didn’t want to-rake up the past.”

“But now I’m ready for a bit of gardening.”

“This was important. You need his help. For your lover’s sake.”

“Well, at least that wouldn’t be lying.”

“Your lover, Corporal Waters. Box 1663, Santa Fe.”

“What’s he like, this one?”

“An idealist. Like the first one.”

“What a bastard you are.”

“He’ll believe you. These things run to type.”

“Until you,” she said, stubbing out the cigarette. But she was interested now, in spite of herself. “Why not Daniel?”

“He’s real. They could check.”

“What am I supposed to tell him, by the way? I’m off to New York for some shopping?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to come up with something. Maybe Oppie’s asked you to help with some visiting Brits. It’s a chance to get away. Something.”

Emma got up and looked out the window. “I’ll have to tell him about us sometime, you know. Maybe it’s now.”

“Not yet.”

She turned to look at him. “Why? Out of curiosity.”

“It’s better to wait. We don’t know how he’ll react. Besides, he’s busy.”

“Useful, you mean. To the project. We wouldn’t want to risk any complications now, would we? Of a personal nature.”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

She looked at him for a minute, then began pacing across the room. “Right. So my new friend-I suppose you’ve got a whole history worked out for him?”

“We can do that on the train.”

“My new friend, the latest in that long line Daddy predicted—” She put her hand up before he could speak. “You want me to get into the spirit of things, don’t you? Anyway, he’s all in a bother. Conscience?”

Connolly ignored the tone. “We’re building a terrible weapon,” he said deliberately. “So terrible it will change everything. We thought the Nazis were building one too. But now they’re gone, so he doesn’t understand why it’s still secret. Some of the scientists don’t want it used at all. They want to get the word out, but there’s nothing they can do. The whole place is sealed up tight. The only hope they’ve got of controlling it is if everyone knows. If everyone gets scared. Otherwise the army can do anything it wants. Not just Japan. Russia, anywhere it likes. Why not tell our own allies, unless we want to keep it for ourselves? For afterward. As long as we own the secret, we’re a threat to everybody. We’ll be the Nazis.”