Steal The Sun(战争间谍)-第4部分

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“No；　General；　I’m　standing　right　in　front　of　you。”
“See　if　you　can　stay　in　front　of　this。　We’re　building　two　kinds　of　atomic　bombs；　using　two
different　heavy　metals。　One　bomb　uses　plutonium；　one　uses　a　very　rare　isotope　–　type　–　of
uranium　called　U…235。　Both　plutonium　and　U…235　are　very　very　scarce。　The　uranium　bomb　is
relatively　simple。　The　plutonium　bomb　is　not。　Getting　it　to　go　off　is　like　setting　fire　to　a　bucket
of　water。　Everything　depends　on　sixty…four　perfectly　shaped　charges　set　in　a　perfect　circle
around　a　perfect　sphere　of　plutonium。　If　the　charges　go　off　simultaneously　–　and　by　God　I’m
talking　about　hundred…millionths　of　a　second！　–　the　plutonium　will　be　evenly　imploded；　critical
mass　will　be　reached；　and　BANG！　Still　with　me？”
Finn　nodded；　although　all　he　was　certain　of　was　that　he　was　getting　more　hard　information
about　Manhattan　in　two　minutes　than　he　had　in　two　years　of　digging。
“Now；　we’ve　had　hell’s　own　time　getting　the　plutonium’s　charges　to　go　off　together。　The　only
way　to　be　sure　we’ve　got　the　engineering　right　is　to　test　the　bomb。　The　scientists　want　that。　The
sob　sisters　want　that。　The　gun　soldiers　want　that　because　they　think　it　won’t　work　and　then　they’ll
get　their　goddamn　invasion。　But　I　don’t　want　the　test　because　once　that　fat　round　bomb　goes　off
we　only　have　one　atomic　bomb　left。”
“For　the　love　of　Christ　–　you　can’t　win　a　war　with　one　bomb；　no　matter　how　powerful　it　is。　You
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are　crazy；　General！”
“Maybe；”　agreed　Groves　as　he　picked　a　piece　of　chocolate　out　of　the　box。　“We　won’t　have
enough　plutonium　to　make　a　second　plutonium　bomb　until　August。　So　we’ll　wait　until　then　to
drop　the　uranium　bomb。　That　way；　if　one　atomic　bomb　doesn’t　convince　the　Japs；　we’ll　have　a
plutonium　bomb　to　follow　up。　But　one　bomb　should　do　it。”　Groves　looked　up　at　Finn。　“That’s
what　you’ll　be　guarding。　The　bomb　that　will　end　World　War　II。”
“If　the　bomb　works。”
“You　better　pray　it　does；　gun　soldier。”
Finn　looked　away　from　the　General。　The　smell　of　chocolate　seemed　the　only　real　thing　left　in　the
room。　The　past　ten　minutes　were　as　disjointed　and　bizarre　as　any　he　had　ever　survived。　Two
impossibly　powerful　bombs　made　of　metals　he　had　never　heard　of；　one　bomb　slated　for　a　test
and　one　for　Japan；　and　a　third　one　not　even　built　yet。　Tactics　that　seemed　foolish；　if　not
diastrous；　a　demonstration　that　wasted　half　an　arsenal　for　no　better　reason　than　politics。
“What　you’ve　told　me　doesn’t　make　sense；”　said　Finn；　his　voice　flat。
“It　doesn’t　have　to　–　you’re　a　captain；　not　a　general。　All　you　have　to　know　is　what　to　do。　First：
you　will　get　that　Jap　spy　in　place　no　later　than　2200；　July　15th。　Second：　you　will　drive　to　Fort
Bliss；　get　on　the　C…46　that　will　be　waiting　and　fly　over　the　test。　Third：　you　will　be　in　Hunters
Point　Naval　Shipyard　in　San　Francisco　by　0700　of　the　16th　of　July。”
“There’s　only　one　of　me；　General。　I　can’t　be　sure　Kestrel　stays　in　place　unless　I　stick　with　him。
That　doesn’t　give　me　much　time　to　get　to　Bliss　and　then　to　Trinity；　and　then　fly　on　to　San
Francisco。”
Groves　shrugged　irritably。　“I　didn’t　say　you　had　to　lead　the　damn　Jap　up　the　mountain。　Just　give
him　enough　information　that　he　can’t　stay　away　and　follow　him　long　enough　to　be　sure　he’s
going　in　the　right　direction。　Then　get　your　ass　to　Fort　Bliss。”
“And　when　I　get　to　Hunters　Point？”
Groves　smiled。　“Beginning　at　0700　of　the　16th；　you’ll　stand　guard　over　a　billion　dollars’　worth
of　uranium　235；　the　guts　of　the　only　atomic　bomb　that　will　be　left　in　the　world。　The　uranium　will
be　loaded　on　the　battleship　Indianapolis　by　0700。　The　ship　will　weigh　anchor　at　0800。　You　will
sit　on　that　uranium　until　you　deliver　it　to　Colonel　Paul　Tibbets　on　a　Pacific　island　called　Tinian。
Then　he；　not　you；　will　become　the　most　important　man　in　the　world。　Do　you　understand　your
orders？”
“Yes。　But　why　send　me　to　Hunters　Point？　I　don’t　know　a　damn　thing　about　atomic　bombs　or
battleships。”
“You’re　a　survivor；　Captain。　You　should　have　died　twenty　times　in　Burma　or　Mexico；　but　you
didn’t。　If　the　Indianapolis　is　attacked　and　men　with　their　skin　on　fire　and　their　guts　hanging　out
run　around　screaming；　you　wouldn’t　panic。　You’d　get　that　uranium　into　the　special　raft　we’re
shipping　with　you。　You　wouldn’t　stop　to　play　Good　Samaritan；　you　wouldn’t　let　wounded
survivors　into　the　raft　with　you；　you　wouldn’t　do　one　fucking　thing　but　keep　that　uranium　afloat。
There　aren’t　many　men　I　could　say　that　about。　But　I’ve　read　the　reports　about　you。　I’ve　watched
you。　You’re　as　fast　and　nasty　as　those　rattlers　you　grew　up　with。　You’ll　get　the　job　done　no
matter　who　you　have　to　kill。　Is　that　clear　enough　for　you？”
“Yes；　sir。　Very　clear。”
“Good。　Now　come　with　me。　I　want　you　to　see　the　material　you’ll　be　guarding。　Uranium　235　has
some　special　characteristics　you　should　be　aware　of。”　Groves　laughed　as　though　he　had　made　a
joke；　but　did　not　explain　the　punchline。　“Captain。”
“Yes？”
“If　that　uranium　goes　to　the　bottom　of　the　Pacific；　I’d　advise　you　to　go　with　it　all　the　way。　And
don’t　bother　holding　your　breath。”
This　time　General　Groves　did　not　laugh。
Moscow
97　Hours　Before　Trinity
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（Excerpt　from　NKVD　document　sent　by　courier　to　Vanessa　Lyons。　Decoded。）
COMMENCE　IMMEDIATELY　FINAL　STAGES　OF　BRONX　INTERCEPT。　DO　NOT
FAIL。　STALINGRAD　WILL　BE　AVENGED。　LAVRENTI　BERIA
Los　Alamos
97　Hours　Before　Trinity
Silently；　Finn　followed　General　Groves　through　the　administrative　building。　Once　it　had　been　a
dormitory　for　wealthy　boys。　Now　it　was　a　warren　of　small　offices。　Beyond　the　windows；　the
Jemez　Mountains　lifted　their　rugged　faces　to　the　sky。
There　was　a　stretch　of　dusty　gravel　lined　by　rectangular　government…issue　buildings。　To　the　east；
the　sky　grew　lighter　second　by　second；　a　lemon…colored　dawn　was　bleaching　into　a　white　desert
day。　Lights　in　all　the　buildings　were　still　on。　They　had　been　on　when　Finn　arrived　at　midnight。
Los　Alamos　recognized　neither　night　nor　day；　only　the　consuming　imperatives　of　war。
Once　the　plateau　had　been　a　beautiful　setting　for　a　boarding　school。　The　cabins　remained；　but
were　surrounded　by　angular　buildings　and　signs　that　said；　RESTRICTED；　MOST
RESTRICTED；　or　POSITIVELY　NO　ADMITTANCE。　A　high　fence　enclosed　Los　Alamos；
giving　it　the　appearance　of　a　prison　camp；　an　appearance　reinforced　by　guards　who　patrolled　the
perimeter　of　the　fence　with　dogs　and　automatic　weapons。
The　faint　scent　of　heat　and　dust　gave　way　to　something　more　subtle；　more　pervasive。　Finn’s　neck
prickled。　He　could　almost　smell　the　acrid　sweat　of　tension；　of　sleeplessness；　of　fear。　It　was　the
odor　of　men　living　under　inhuman　pressure　because　each　day　brought　more　impossible
demands；　demands　that　must　be　met　because　the　alternative　was　unthinkable。
“Until　seven　months　ago；”　said　Groves；　as　they　walked；　“we　were　afraid　that　the　Germans
would　build　an　atomic　bomb　before　we　did。　England　couldn’t　have　held　out　against　that。　The
English　Channel　would　have　become　a　German　bathtub。　That　would　have　made　the　Normandy
invasion　impossible。　If　the　Germans　had　put　the　bomb　together　first；　there　would　have　been　no
V…E　Day。”
The　General　kept　his　voice　low　out　of　habit。　Finn　sensed　a　terrible　strain　in　it。　He　tried　to
imagine　what　it　was　like　to　know　that　the　future　of　many　nations　quite　literally　depended　on　your
own　success　or　failure。　It　was　the　kind　of　responsibility　that　could　erode　a　man’s　nerve　and
ultimately　his　sanity。　Then　he　realized　that　it　was　precisely　the　kind　of　responsibility　Groves　had
wished　on　him。　Suddenly　Finn　felt　as　though　he　was　back　in　the　jungle　again；　walking　a　narrow
trail　into　ambush。　Only　this　time　much　more　was　at　risk　than　his　personal　survival。
“Fortunately；”　said　Groves；　“the　Germans　didn’t　get　a　chance　to　make　the　bomb。”
“Were　they　close？”
Groves　shrugged。　“Not　as　close　as　we　are。　Hitler　was　too　stupid　to　know　the　bomb　was　his　best
chance　for　victory。　He　kept　meddling　with　his　scientists。　Roosevelt　had　more　sense。　He　didn’t
care　how　we　got　it　done；　just　so　we　did　it。　Truman　is　the　same　way；　when　gun　soldiers　and　sob
sisters　leave　him　alone。”
“What　about　the　Japanese？”　said　Finn。
“They’re　working　on　two　weapons。　The　first；　called　Project　A；　is　an　atomic　bomb。　They　aren’t　as
close　as　the　Germans　were　to　building　one。　Hitler　didn’t　give　the　Japs　any　help。　He　didn’t　trust
his　little　yellow　brothers。　The　Japs　worked　long　enough　to　understand　the　engineering　problems
of　the　bomb。　They　decided　that　a　bomb　was　possible；　but　there　was　no　way　any　country　could
build　a　workable　bomb　before　1950。　On　my　worst　days　I　agree　with　them。”　Groves　grimaced。
“The　Japs　figured　the　war　would　be　over　by　1950；　so　they　put　all　their　efforts　into　Project　B。”
“Do　we　know　what　that　is？”
“A　weapon　that　kills　with　light。”
“What？”
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“Light。　Like　a　flashlight；　only　a　million　times　more　intense。”
“Does　it　work？”
“Yes。　But　OSS　says　the　weapon　is　too　cumbersome　to　take　into　battle。　It’s　just　a　matter　of　time；
though。　Like　the　bomb。”
There　was　a　long　silence　that　ended　in　Groves’　sigh。　“Christ；”　he　muttered。　Then；　“You’ve
studied　the　Japs　so　long　you’re　practically　one　yourself。　Do　you　think　they’ll　ever　accept
unconditional　surrender？　They’ve　got　to　know　that　they’re　losing　the　war。”
“Losing　face　is　worse　than　death。　They　won’t　–　can’t　–　accept　unconditional　surrender。　It　would
be　racial　suicide。　But　in　Juarez；　I’ve　heard　rumors　of　peace　feelers　from　Tokyo。”
“That’s　all　they　are　–　rumors。　Stalin　told　the　President　that　the　Japanese　overtures　to　Russia　were
too　vague　to　act　on。”
“Russians　have　less　to　gain　from　peace　than　we　do；”　said　Finn。
“Cynical　soul；　aren’t　you？”
“So　is　Stalin。”
“And　Truman　is　a　realist。　After　Pearl　Harbor；　the　voters　would　have　his　nuts　if　he　gave　the　Japs
an　easy　peace。”　Groves　knuckled　his　eyes。　The　skin　around　them　was　slack；　darkened　by　fatigue；
the　same　fatigue　that　had　eroded　his　military　posture。　Yet　as　he　straightened；　he　again　exuded　a
sense　of　unswerving；　almost　fanatical　purpose。　“It　always　comes　down　to　the　bomb。　So　be　it。”
Groves　walked　toward　a　building　that　had　a　sign　in　front　of　it　stating：
G　Division
Omega　Site　Gamma　Building
POSITIVELY　NO　ADMITTANCE
The　sign　was　small；　plain；　unobtrusive。　The　building　was　new；　almost　raw。　The　guard　saluted
Groves；　then　looked　from　him　to　Finn。
“He’s　clear；　soldier；”　said　Groves。　“His　name　is　Finn。”
“Yes；　sir。”
The　guard　got　out　two　small　cardboard　badges　and　wrote　a　name　on　each。　Inside　each　badge
was　a　strip　of　undeveloped　film。
“Turn　this　in　when　you　leave；　sir。”
The　guard　clipped　one　cardboard　square　onto　the　General’s　collar　and　one　onto　Finn’s。　When
they　had　moved　beyond　the　hearing　of　the　guard；　Groves　spoke　quietly。
“I　want　you　to　appreciate　just　what　you　are　guarding。　Words　like　rare　and　scarce　don’t　really
describe　it。　Irreplacable　comes　close。　The　guts　of　the　bomb　is　about　eight　kilos　of　U…235。”
“Less　than　twenty…five　pounds？”　asked　Finn。　“Is　that　all　that　you　need　to　make　a　20；000…ton
bang？”
“Yes；　but　we’re　dealing　with　one　of　the　rarest　elements　on　earth；”　said　Groves。　“To　get　it；　you
start　with　an　ore　called　pitchblende。　There’s　about　an　ounce　of　pure　uranium　in　each　tone　of　ore；
but　that’s　the　least　of　the　problem。　There　are　two　kinds　of　uranium。　We　only　use　one　kind；
U…235。　We　have　to　separate　it　from　the　U…238　atom　by　atom。　To　get　seven　pounds　of　U…235；　we
have　to　process　half　a　ton　of　U…238。　It’s　an　engineering　nightmare。”
Finn　listened　while　his　eyes　checked　off　doors　that　were　closed　and　open。　The　smell　of　tension
was　stronger　here；　enclosed　by　pale　green　corridors　and　rooms。　Then　he　realized　that　the　smell
of　tension　was　on　his　own　body；　too。
“We’re　not　separating　uranium　here；”　said　Groves。　“That’s　done　in　Tennessee。　Here　we　just
assemble　the　bomb。”
“How　does　the　separated　uranium　get　from　Tennessee　to　Los　Alamos？”
“Convoy。　Well…guarded　but　discreet。　The　fewer　people　who　even　suspect　there’s　something
valuable　being　shipped；　the　better　I　sleep。　We　only　get　a　few　micrograms　at　a　time；　anyway。”
“How　does　the　uranium　get　from　here　to　Hunters　Point？”
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“No。　No　one　knows　that　yet；　not　even　the　men　who　will　take　it　there。　And　I　won’t　tell　anybody
else　until　they’re　beyond　Los　Alamos　and　whatever　goddamn　Russian　spies　we　haven’t　caught
yet。”
Groves　gestured　Finn　into　a　long；　narrow　room　that　overlooked　a　laboratory。　Between　the
room　and　the　lab　was　a　lead…lined；　chest…high　wall　topped　by　a　row　of　leaded　glass　windows。
Every　detail　of　the　lab　was　outlined　by　cold　light　pouring　down　from　ranks　of　fluorescent　lamps。
“We　can　hear　them；”　said　Groves；　gesturing　to　a　ceiling　speaker；　“but　they　can’t　hear　us。”
Inside　the　laboratory　stood　a　container　that　resembled　a　nickel…plated　milk　can。　The　top　was　off；
revealing　a　thick　lead　lining。
“See　that　can？”　asked　Groves。　“That’s　what　the　uranium　will　be　shipped　in。　It　will　be　welded　to　a
cabin　floor　of　the　Indianapolis。”
Finn　looked　at　the　cylinder。　It　was　about　eighteen　inches　in　diameter　and　about　two　feet　high。
The　top　had　a　curved　metal　handle　like　the　lid　of　a　garbage　can。　The　container　did　not　look　big
enough　to　hold　the　future　of　the　world。
Finn　looked　beyond　the　can。　There　were　only　three　men　in　the　laboratory。　Two　of　them　were
seated　at　a　table　against　the　far　wall；　apparently　taking　notes。　They　had　the　look　of　men　who　had
been　up　all　night。　The　third　man　looked　equally　tired。　He　was　seated　on　a　high　stool　near　the
center　of　the　room。　In　front　of　him　was　a　table。　On　the　table　was　a　black　metal　box　with　dials；
meters　and　what　looked　like　a　long　narrow　microphone　attached　by　a　cord　to　the　box。
The　table　also　held　a　glass…walled　container　that　looked　like　an　ordinary　aquarium　turned　on　end。
At　the　bottom　of　the　container；　in　about　three　feet　of　water；　was　a　lump　of　white　metal。　A
smaller　piece　of　the　same　metal　was　suspended　above　the　water　from　a　tripod　that　straddled　the
aquarium。
“Those　two　pieces　are　all　the　pure　uranium…235　in　the　world；”　said　Groves。
Finn　looked　at　the　metal。　He　could　have　held　both　pieces　in　his　hands　at　once。　They　did　not　look
powerful　enough　to　blow　up　the　room；　much　less　Japan。
“How　tricky　is　uranium　to　handle？　Is　it　like　nitroglycerin？”
“No。　It　won’t　explode　if　you　drop　it。　Uranium　is　more　subtle。　It’s　radioactive；　which　means　it
naturally　gives　off　high…energy　particles。　A　few　of　those　panicles　won’t　hurt　you。　Too　many　will
kill　you。　But　so　long　as　you　keep　those　two　chunks　of　uranium　apart；　they’re　about　as　dangerous
as　cookies　and　milk。”
“Now；”　continued　Groves；　“the　closer　together　the　pieces；　the　more　energy　they　give　off；　and
the　more　dangerous　they　are。　If　you　set　those　chunks　down　next　to　each　other　you’ll　get　lots　of
radiation；　some　heat　and　a　little　light。　Deadly　as　hell；　but　no　explosion。　But　if　you　slammed　that
U…235　together　quickly；　with　an　explosive　charge；　the　atoms　would　radiate　their　particles　all　at
once；　literally　blowing　themselves　apart。　That　gives　you　one　hell　of　a　bang。　Those　eight　kilos　of
U…235　are　the　explosive　equivalent　of　forty　million　pounds　of　TNT。”
Finn　looked　at　the　gleaming　metal　and　found　such　power　hard　to　believe。
The　experimenter　on　the　stool　flipped　a　switch　on　the　unmarked　box　near　the　aquarium。
Immediately　there　was　a　distant　crackling　sound；　like　slow　static。　He　called　out　a　reading　to　the
men　at　the　far　side　of　the　room。
“Same　as　before；”　verified　one　of　the　men。
“What　are　they　doing？”　asked　Finn。
“The　aquarium　holds　salt　water。　If　the　Indianapolis　goes　down；　we　want　to　know　how　a　dip　in
the　ocean　will　affect　critical　mass　and　chain　reactions。”
The　experimenter　fiddled　with　the　pulley　that　controlled　the　U…235　suspended　over　the
aquarium。　The　pulley　gears　were　stuck；　the　result　of　too　much　water　dripped　onto　them　during　a
night　of　experimentation。
“The　larger　piece　of　U…235　is　at　the　bottom　of　the　pond；”　said　Groves。　“It’s　about　three　times　as
big　as　the　piece　hanging　from　the　pulley。　The　two　pieces　are　made　to　fit　together　like　a　baseball
in　a　glove。”
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The　U…235　was　attached　to　a　pulley　hook　by　a　hastily　rigged　net。　The　experimenter　unhooked　the
net　from　the　pulley；　set　aside　the　uranium；　and　cranked　on　the　pulley　impatiently。　Without　the
weight　of　the　metal　dragging　down；　the　pulley　worked　fairly　well。
Groves　glanced　at　the　experimenter　and　the　two　other　men　slumped　on　stools　at　the　far　end　of
the　room。　In　spite　of　their　obvious　fatigue；　there　was　an　air　of　anxiety　about　them。　The
experimenter　reattached　the　U…235　to　the　pulley。
“It’s　their　last　chance　to　work　with　the　metal　before　it’s　shipped。　No　one　has　ever　had　this　much
U…235　before。　There　are　lots　of　theories　to　test　and　damn　little　time　to　do　it　in。”
The　pulley　stuck。　The　experimenter　swore。
“Six　twenty…five；”　said　one　of　the　men　at　the　back　of　the　room。
The　experimenter　said　nothing。　He　applied　more　pressure　to　the　pulley。　The　net　holding　the
U…235　descended　a　few　inches。　The　sound　of　static　increased。
“What’s　that？”　asked　Finn。　“What　is　he　doing？”
“The　box　is　giving　out　the　static；”　said　Groves。　“It’s　a　radiation　counter。　It　tells　us　how　many
particles　are　being　radiated。　Remember；　the　closer　the　two　pieces；　the　more　particles　are
knocked　off。　The　more　particles；　the　more　danger。”
The　man　on　the　stool　adjusted　the　radiation　counter　until　the　sound　of　static　was　reduced　to　a
series　of　slow　clicks。　He　turned　the　crank　on　the　pulley。　The　net　holding　the　U…235　descended
two　inches　closer　to　its　companion。　Instantly　the　clicking　sound　increased。　The　man　stopped；
made　a　note　on　his　pad；　read　the　notation　aloud；　and　then　readjusted　the　radiation　counter。　He
turned　the　crank　again。　It　stuck。　One　of　the　men　in　the　back　of　the　room　groaned。
“Goddamn　it；　not　again！”
The　experimenter　ignored　the　complaint。　He　pressed　and　jiggled　until　the　pulley　gears　came
unstuck　and　the　isotope　descended。　The　counter　snarled。　He　readjusted　it；　calling　out　numbers。
“Every　time　he　adjusts　the　radiation　counter；”　said　Groves；　“he　decreases　its　sensitivity。
Otherwise　you　wouldn’t　be　able　to　measure　anything　beyond　mild　radioactivity　without
overloading　the　machine。”
The　scientist　turned　the　crank。　It　balked；　then　responded。　The　U…235　dropped　closer　to　the
larger　piece　of　metal　at　the　bottom　of　the　aquarium。　Clicking　sounds　blurred　into　a　low　howl。
“Radiation　is　like　a　germ；”　Groves　muttered。　“You　can’t　see　it　but　it　can　hurt　you。”
The　rapid　signal　of　the　counter　reminded　Finn　of　a　rattlesnake’s　warning；　except　that　the
counter’s　sound　had　a　mechanical　perfection　that　no　animate　life　could　attain。　The　difference　was
subtle　and　pervasive；　it　made　Finn　uneasy。　He　understood　dangerous　snakes　and　dangerous
men；　but　the　invisible　danger　of　radiation　was　alien　to　him。
There　was　an　abnormal　intensity　to　the　experimenter’s　actions　as　he　worked　with　the　reluctant
pulley　and　measured　the　shrinking　distance　between　the　two　pieces　of　U…238　–　and　between
himself　and　a　lethal　unknown。
“How　much　radiation　can　a　man　take？”　asked　Finn；　not　looking　away　from　the　table　where　the
two　pieces　of　metal　communicated　with　each　other　in　a　series　of　ascending　clicks。
“We　don’t　know。”
“Then　how　do　you　know　if　you’ve　gotten　too　much