January looked out the plexiglass. The giant cloud still burned and roiled. One atom .... Well, they had really done it to that forest. He almost laughed but stopped himself, afraid of hysteria. Through a break in the clouds he got a clear view of Hiroshima for the first time. It lay spread over its islands like a map, unharmed. Well, that was that. The inferno at the base of the mushroom cloud was eight or ten miles around the shore of the bay, and a mile or two inland. A certain patch of forest would be gone, destroyed—utterly blasted from the face of the earth. The Japs would be able to go out and investigate the damage. And if they were told it was a demonstration, a warning—and if they acted fast—well, they had their chance. Maybe it would work.
The release of tension made January feel sick. Then he recalled Shepard’s words and he knew that whether his plan worked or not he was still in trouble. In trouble! It was worse than that. Bitterly he cursed the Japanese, he even wished for a moment that he had dropped it on them. Wearily he let his despair empty him.
A long while later he sat up straight. Once again he was a trapped animal. He began lunging for escape, casting about for plans. One alternative after another. All during the long grim flight home he considered it, mind spinning at the speed of the props and beyond. And when they came down on Tinian he had a plan. It was a long shot, he reckoned, but it was the best he could do.
The briefing hut was surrounded by MPs again. January stumbled from the truck with the rest and walked inside. He was more than ever aware of the looks given him, and they were hard, accusatory. He was too tired to care. He hadn’t slept in more than thirty-six hours, and had slept very little since the last time he had been in the hut, a week before. Now the room quivered with the lack of engine vibration to stabilize it, and the silence roared. It was all he could do to hold on to the bare essentials of his plan. The glares of Fitch and Shepard, the hurt incomprehension of Matthews, they had to be thrust out of his focus. Thankfully he lit a cigarette.
In a clamor of question and argument the others described the strike. Then the haggard Scholes and an intelligence officer led them through the bombing run. January’s plan made it necessary to hold to his story: “... and when the AP was under the crosshairs I pushed down the switch, but got no signal. I flipped it up and down repeatedly until the tone kicked in. At that point there was still fifteen seconds to the release.”
“Was there anything that may have caused the tone to start when it did?”
“Not that I noticed immediately, but—”
“It’s impossible,” Shepard interrupted, face red. “I checked the switch before we flew and there was nothing wrong With it. Besides, the drop occurred over a minute—”
“Captain Shepard,” Scholes said. “We’ll hear from you presently.”
“But he’s obviously lying—”
“Captain Shepard! It’s not at all obvious. Don’t speak unless questioned.”
“Anyway,” January said, hoping to shift the questions away from the issue of the long delay, “I noticed something about the bomb when it was falling that could explain why it stuck. I need to discuss it with one of the scientists familiar with the bomb’s design.”
“What was that?” Scholes asked suspiciously.
January hesitated. “There’s going to be an inquiry, right?”
Scholes frowned. “This is the inquiry, Captain January. Tell us what you saw.”
“But there will be some proceeding beyond this one?”
“It looks like there’s going to be a court-martial, yes, Captain.”
“That’s what I thought. I don’t want to talk to anyone but my counsel, and some scientist familiar with the bomb.”
“I’m a scientist familiar with the bomb,” Shepard burst out. “You could tell me if you really had anything, you—”
“I said I need a scientist!” January exclaimed, rising to face the scarlet Shepard across the table. “Not a G-God damned mechanic.” Shepard started to shout, others joined in and the room rang with argument. While Scholes restored order January sat down, and he refused to be drawn out again.
“I’ll see you’re assigned counsel, and initiate the court-martial,” Scholes said, clearly at a loss. “Meanwhile you are under arrest, on suspicion of disobeying orders in combat.” January nodded, and Scholes gave him over to MPs.
“One last thing, “ January said, fighting exhaustion. “Tell General Le May that if the Japs are told this drop was a warning, it might have the same effect as—”
“I told you!” Shepard shouted. “I told you he did it on purpose!”
Men around Shepard restrained him. But he had convinced most of them, and even Matthews stared at him with surprised anger.
January shook his head wearily. He had the dull feeling that his plan, while it had succeeded so far, was ultimately not a good one. “Just trying to make the best of it.” It took all of his remaining will to force his legs to carry him in a dignified manner out of the hut.
His cell was an empty NCO’s office. MPs brought his meals. For the first couple of days he did little but sleep. On the third day he glanced out the office’s barred window, and saw a tractor pulling a tarpaulin-draped trolly out of the compound, followed by jeeps filled with MPs. It looked like a military funeral. January rushed to the door and banged on it until one of the young MPs came.
“What’s that they’re doing out there?” January demanded.
Eyes cold and mouth twisted, the MP said, “They’re making another strike. They’re going to do it right this time.”
“No!” January cried. “No!” He rushed the MP, who knocked him back and locked the door. “No!” He beat the door until his hands hurt, cursing wildly. “You don’t need to do it, it isn’t necessary.” Shell shattered at last, he collapsed on the bed and wept. Now everything he had done would be rendered meaningless. He had sacrificed himself for nothing.
A day or two after that the MPs led in a colonel, an iron-haired man who stood stiffly and crushed January’s hand when he shook it. His eyes were a pale, icy blue.
“I am Colonel Dray,” he said. “I have been ordered to defend you in court-martial.” January could feel the dislike pouring from the man. “To do that I’m going to need every fact you have, so let’s get started.”
“I’m not talking to anybody until I’ve seen an atomic scientist.”
“I am your defense counsel—”
“I don’t care who you are,” January said. “Your defense of me depends on you getting one of the scientists here. The higher up he is, the better. And I want to speak to him alone.”
“I will have to be present.”
So he would do it. But now January’s counsel, too, was an enemy.
“Naturally,” January said. “You’re my counsel. But no one else. Our atomic secrecy may depend on it.”
“You saw evidence of sabotage?”
“Not one word more until that scientist is here.”
Angrily the colonel nodded and left.
Late the next day the colonel returned with another man. “This is Dr. Forest.”
“I helped develop the bomb,” Forest said. He had a crew-cut and dressed in fatigues, and to January he looked more Army than the colonel. Suspiciously he stared back and forth at the two men.
“You’ll vouch for this man’s identity on your word as an officer?” he asked of Dray.
“Of course,” the colonel said stiffly, offended.
“So,” Dr. Forest said. “You had some trouble getting it off when you wanted to. Tell me what you saw.”
“I saw nothing,” January said harshly. He took a deep breath; it was time to commit himself. “I want you to take a message back to the scientists. You folks have been working on this thing for years, and you must have had time to consider how the bomb should have been used. You know we could have convinced the Japs to surrender by showing them a demonstration—”