—It didn’t detonate on the ground?
—No. Up in the sky. Within… a millionth of a second, the temperature at that point reached tens of millions of degrees and vaporized what was left of the bomb. The expansion created a pressure wave, probably over a million pounds per square inch, moving outwards at… three thousand miles an hour, give or take. Now imagine a one-mile circle all around you. That is nine or ten blocks in every direction, from here to the Bolshoi. Somewhere between three and four hundred city blocks. About one second after the explosion, everything in that circle was hit by a wall of air moving at supersonic speed. Every building was ripped apart or toppled over. Bodies were squeezed like lemons, compressed with enough force to rupture most internal organs. The same circle was hit, almost instantaneously, with a lethal dose of neutrons and gamma rays.
—What does that do?
—It does not matter if you were inside that circle. Look up again. At the point of detonation, the air surrounding the weapon was bombarded with enough X-rays to form a ball of burning air many times brighter than the sun. Within ten seconds, that ball of fire had reached the edge of the one-mile circle, blowing burning debris and broken bodies at hundreds of miles per hour. Anyone who was still breathing was burned alive instantly. By then, the air blast would be two or three miles ahead, still moving incredibly fast. Then came the heat, visible and infrared light. It caused blindness, third-degree burns up to ten miles away, perhaps more. In about a minute, tens of thousands were dead or dying. Just as many were burned or injured.
—Hell on earth.
—A quick death for most. The ones who did not die will experience hell.
—Neutrons and gamma rays.
—Yes. Living cells will absorb the energy. If they absorb enough—
—It’ll kill them.
—Not directly, no. If you were close enough for that to happen, the firestorm would have hit you first. But it will damage cells, enough to stop them from making proper copies of themselves. When the cells die their natural death, their imperfect offspring will not survive. The faster the cells reproduce, the more sensitive they are to radiation.
—So the brain—
—You figure it out, Mia.
She does not need to hear me say it. She knows enough to play it out in her head. Bone marrow will die first, but it will take a month before it causes severe internal bleeding or infection sets in. Epithelial cells in the intestinal tract will be next. Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. Death will come faster, a couple of weeks. Nerve cells are slow to regenerate so they will die last, but with enough exposure, they will die. Seizures, convulsions. Dead in a day. Brain cells do not reproduce, so they will not be destroyed. Too bad. I would prefer not to be conscious for this.
—Mother?
—What is it, Mia?
—Did we do this?
—…
—Mother?
—No, Mia. That was not us. You are soaking wet. Go back inside and get rid of these clothes before you catch your death.
A white lie, perhaps. The truth is more complicated than yes or no. The work of thousands, tens of thousands, went into that project. A million small pieces of knowledge interlocked in just the right way. Some of the pieces were ours, undoubtedly, but we did not put the puzzle together. That will have to be enough.
—Aren’t you coming in?
—I think I will stay a bit longer.
I like the rain. It’s a new dawn. The age of gods is over. The era of man began when a neutron struck the nucleus of a uranium atom. The emperor did not just rule over Japan, he was a direct descendant of the sun goddess. A divine being was just cut to size by science. The last living god bowed to man. Nothing will ever be the same.
22
I’m on My Last Go-Round
—I don’t know what’s on your mind, Mia, but you need to focus. We have work to do.
I am focused, very focused. Just not on this.
—Yes, Mother…. Did you know hundreds of Afro-Americans came here during the thirties?
—They were recruited by the state, were they not?
—Yes. How do you know? Never mind that. Why would anyone want to move here, under Stalin?
—I can think of many reasons. Jim Crow laws, the Great Depression. I would surmise many were simply looking for an adventure. Is this about your new friend?
—My fr—Yes. Her father studied agriculture at Tuskegee University. He brought his family here to teach the Soviets new cultivation techniques.
—This is fascinating, Mia. Now can we—
—She was an actress. Kind of.
—Who was?
—My friend. Billie. She made a Soviet propaganda film about racism when she was eight.
—I would love to meet her someday, Mia. Can you please focus on the task at hand?
—I’m sorry, Mother. What can I do?
—I told you before. You need to start a research program, put a team together.
—But I don’t know how! I don’t even know who’s in charge, here or in Germany.
—Don’t worry, Mia. Neither do the Soviets. Right now, there are a handful of Russian scientists in Germany. In Bleicherode, where you were. Boris Chertok is running what they call Institut Rabe.
—Rabe. What does it mean?
—Some German acronym for rocket building, I suppose. Things are more complicated here in Moscow. They are still bickering over who should be in charge of the technology. NKAP—that’s aviation—thinks it should be theirs. The People’s Commissariat of Ammunition wants it, so does the People’s Commissariat of Armament. Our man is with the Main Artillery Directorate, General Kuznetsov. He more or less single-handedly decided Rabe was under his command, and no one objected.
—You said “our man.” We have a man?
—Yes, Mia. We do. For the time being, he believes he is working for a secret commission only Stalin knows about, but it will not last. You will need to make more permanent arrangements.
—A secret commission. You made it up?
—I did. We had nothing to blackmail Kuznetsov with, or anyone else here for that matter. I had to spend a fortune on a low-ranking government official just to create the paperwork. Fortunately, there are more commissions and committees here than anyone can remember. You first priority should be to find a suitable general, or a member of the Politburo.
I’ve watched Mother do it but I never turned anyone before. It’s not that hard from what I’ve seen. Debt works best, especially the gambling kind. Ask for something illegal but harmless at first. Threaten and squeeze for more. Rinse. Repeat. Like most things, guilt doesn’t last. Habituation is a horrible thing. We’ve done it a thousand times over generations, amassed file after file of everyone’s dirty little secrets. Mother says we could overthrow governments if we wanted to. I don’t know if that’s true but we could sure run one with the money we’re spending.
My grandmother had hundreds on the take. Scientists, government officials, a whole network of people gathering information for us. Some of it is pretty bad, but the most useful is usually petty crimes, love affairs. It’s amazing how many people will end up selling state secrets because they couldn’t keep it in their pants.
—Do we have enough money for this? I mean, we’re still paying a ton of people.
—We have enough, Mia.
—How much?
—I have shown you the accounts, what documents we need to move money around.
That she did. Lots of paperwork. People can’t hide money, they just can’t. We have to make sure it comes from somewhere. Family trusts from long-lost relatives, research grants from some obscure foundation. Yuck.