Kevin Anderson - The Trinity Paradox

The scene looked like a confrontation between two teams in some sort of battle. And in a way, that’s exactly what it was—the academicians against the soldiers. They didn’t yet know just how much at odds they would be. Right now their goals were in harmony: to stop Nazi Germany. But soon, Elizabeth knew, the two camps would split and champion different goals.

Elizabeth could not see Graham Fox among the scientists, but he would be out at his observation station to take readings from the test. Several other solo researchers had been placed at various distances from Ground Zero to measure the blast.

She stood quietly in the hall and tried to catch what the men were discussing. The front door of the ranch house stood open, letting a cool wet breeze float inside. The rain had stopped, and the sky showed patches of black sky and speckles of stars. Only the sound of water dripping from the roof gave any indication of the storm. Elizabeth wished a breeze would enter the room and clear the air of smoke.

Groves raised his voice. “Every day we delay—”

“I know, I know.” Oppenheimer sounded exhausted, ready to crumble. “Every day takes us farther from victory. We’ll do the test today, General. Just give me five more minutes for that wind check downrange. At least make sure the people and towns downwind from the blast are shielded from fallout. We don’t want to make another New York disaster out here in the desert.”

Groves blew cigar smoke into Oppie’s face. “I know when you’re exaggerating, Dr. Oppenheimer. We’ve discussed the worst-case scenario before, so don’t go trying to scare my staff.” Groves glanced back at his men. They stood placid; their faces revealed nothing. Elizabeth could tell that the last remark had been more for Groves’s own men than as a retort to Oppenheimer.

Oppie waved the cigar smoke away from his face and sucked on his pipe. “I just wanted to make sure that we’re both aware of the consequences.”

“Damn right we are. You’ve got your own calculations to prove it.” Groves shifted his weight. As Elizabeth knew, he was a man not used to waiting for what he wanted.

“Oppie?” An enlisted man entered the ranch house, out of breath. The rank insignia on his arms showed him to be a private. His boots were covered with mud and wet sand, but the rest of his uniform was dry. He strode into the room, then stopped as he caught sight of Groves. He snapped to attention.

“Morning, General.”

“Get on with it,” said Groves after returning the salute.

The enlisted man held out a paper to Oppenheimer. “The winds have died down. Meteorology forecasts no weather coming in for at least the next three hours.”

“Thank you.” Oppenheimer beamed. “That takes care of it, General.” He raised his voice and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Looks like it’s a go!”

Groves snatched the paper from Oppenheimer, grinning. He looked at Elizabeth, but didn’t seem to recognize her. “Let’s do it,” he said.

Oppenheimer studied his watch. “An hour and a half. That’ll give us time to run through the check one more time.”

“Right.” Groves whirled and snapped to his men. “You heard him. Ninety minutes.” And he was out the door with a graceful, rolling gait despite his girth and his obvious weariness.

Elizabeth expected some excitement after Oppie had made his announcement. The men all looked to be asleep on their feet, feverish and ready to curl up on their bunks. They had been working nonstop for days on the final preparations.

The support crew filed out of the ranch house and headed into the dark night. They each had their specific task to perform, even if just to observe the test. No one spoke; they must know to save the cheering for later. Somehow it seemed appropriate to set off the world’s first nuclear explosion in the darkest hours before dawn.

Elizabeth and Feynman waited until the last man had left. Feynman rubbed his hands together, then squeezed her shoulder. She wondered how he had been so certain that the test would proceed. “The Army’11 be making a last sweep of the area to make sure no one’s left around.”

“Do you have anything left to do?”

“Me? A theoretician! Theoretical physicists are useless when things get practical.” He thought for a moment. “I had an advisor once who told me that when he caught himself doing anything useful, he knew it was time to change fields.” He grinned. “Come on, join me in the command bunker. I’m sure there’s enough room.”

“Okay.” He put his arm around her as they left the ranch house; she managed to discreetly extricate herself from his touch.

They made their way to a convoy of jeeps just outside the ranch house. They tried to avoid the mud and fresh puddles from the storm. The hard sand surface had absorbed most of the moisture, but in some spots the ground had left pools of water. The air smelled fresh, rinsed clean of the dust that had been whipping around the test site for the past week.

The jeeps sat parked in a long line, their engines running as the support crew climbed in. Sunrise would not come for another hour or so. Long pencil beams of light came from the sets of headlights, making the convoy look like a glowing caterpillar. As she and Feynman approached, a figure stepped from the shadows behind the first jeep. Elizabeth recognized his profile, the thin body, the tense way he held his shoulders.

“Elizabeth…”

“Hello, Graham.” Elizabeth stopped walking.

Feynman placed his hand behind her back and urged her forward. “Dr. Fox—you’ve heard the shot is back on?”

“Yes.” Fox’s eyes didn’t move from Elizabeth as he answered. They glittered in the glare from the headlights.

Feynman said, “Hey, you can join us in the bunker. I think we’ve got room for one more.”

Fox shook his head. He spoke so low it was hard for her to hear his words. “Elizabeth, I shall be with my radionuclide collection experiment. Were you still planning on joining me? I came back to fetch you.”

The suggestion startled her. She had never agreed to be with him for the test. “Well, Oppie is expecting me in the bunker.”

“I was planning on having you help me—none of the technicians is free. These measurements are crucial.”

Elizabeth swallowed and tried to think of a way out. Fox worked his mouth but said nothing else. She felt very uncomfortable.

Feynman dropped his hand from her back. “Oh, go ahead, Elizabeth. You’ll be able to see the test much better from out there. Too many big heads crammed in the command bunker. We’ll be up to our necks in IQs.”

Elizabeth drew in a breath, stalling for time. What was going on here? Why was Fox so insistent?

“We must hurry, Elizabeth,” Fox said, touching her elbow. “The test is set to go in eighty minutes. I’ve still got to check out the radiometers.”

“He’s right.” Feynman gently pushed her from behind. “You’d better hurry.” With that he turned and climbed into one of the jeeps. He called back as the jeep started to move. “Keep your fingers crossed!”

“I will,” Fox said.

As the jeeps moved off, Elizabeth frowned at the vehicle’s sour exhaust fumes over the fresh smell of rain. One by one the jeeps sped off along the dark road toward Ground Zero. In the backs, men hung onto their hats.

Fox pressed his lips together. He watched her for a moment. Neither of them spoke. Finally, as one of the last vehicles pulled out, he said, “Let’s go. I brought my own jeep.” Swinging into the driver’s seat, he checked out the gear shift and waited for Elizabeth to join him.

Elizabeth hesitated. Fox’s attitude didn’t leave room for questions. He had tried to talk to her several times in the last few days, but she had ignored him, though she watched him growing more and more desperate. She looked around. She brushed away a few spots of standing water in the passenger seat, then climbed into the jeep.