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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？”
Page 19
“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 h