Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

explode.

Nobody knew what an unmoderated, high-energy pile might do. It would breed

plutonium in great quantities- but would it explode? Explode with such violence as

to make the Nagasaki bomb seem like a popgun?

Nobody knew.

In the meantime the power-hungry technology of the United States grew still

more demanding. The Douglas Martin sunpower screens met the immediate crisis when

oil became too scarce to be wasted as fuel, but sunpower was limited to about one

horsepower per square yard and was at the mercy of the weather.

Atomic power was needed-demanded.

Atomic engineers lived through the period in an agony of indecision. Perhaps

a breeder pile could be controlled. Or perhaps if it did go out of control it would

simply blow itself apart and thus extinguish its own fires. Perhaps it would explode

like several atom bombs but with low efficiency. But it might-it just might-explode

its whole mass of many tons of uranium at once and destroy the human race in the

process.

There is an old story, not true, which tells of a scientist who had made a

machine which would instantly destroy the world, so he believed, if he closed one

switch. He wanted to know whether or not lie was right. So he closed the switch-and

never found out.

The atomic engineers were afraid to close the switch.

“It was Destry’s mechanics of infinitesimals that showed a way out of the,

dilemma,” King went on. “His equations appeared to predict that such an atomic

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explosion, once started, would disrupt the molar mass enclosing it so rapidly that

neutron loss through the outer surface of the fragments would dampen the progression

of the atomic explosion to zero before complete explosion could be reached. In an

atom bomb such damping actually occurs.

“For the mass we use in the pile, his equations predicted possible force of

explosion one-seventh of one percent of the force of complete explosion. That alone,

of course, would be incomprehensibly destructive-enough to wreck this end of the

state. Personally, I’ve never been sure that is all that would happen.”

“Then why did you accept this job?” inquired Lentz.

King fiddled with items on his desk before replying. “I couldn’t turn it

down, doctor I couldn’t. If I had refused, they would have gotten someone else-and

it was an opportunity that comes to a physicist once in history.”

Lentz nodded. “And probably they would- have gotten someone not as

competent. I understand, Dr. King-you were compelled by the ‘truth-tropism’ of the

scientist. He must go where the data is to be found, even if it kills him. But about

this fellow Destry, I’ve never liked his mathematics; he postulates too much.”

King looked up in quick surprise, then recalled that this was the man who

had refined and given rigor to the calculus of statement. “That’s just the hitch,”

he agreed. “His work is brilliant, but I’ve never been sure that his predictions

were worth the paper they were written on. Nor, apparently,” he added bitterly, “do

my junior engineers.”

He told the psychiatrist Of the difficulties they had had with personnel, of

how the most carefully selected men would, sooner or later, crack under the strain.

“At first I thought it might be some degenerating effect from the neutron radiation

that leaks out through the shielding, so we improved the screening and the personal

armor. But it didn’t help. One young fellow who had joined us after the new

screening was installed became violent at dinner one night, and insisted that a pork

chop was about to explode. I hate to think of what might have happened if he had

been on duty at the pile when he blew up.”

The inauguration of the system of constant psychological observation had

greatly reduced the probability of acute danger resulting from a watch engineer

cracking up, but King was forced to admit that the system was not a success; there

had actually been a marked increase in psychoneuroses, dating from that time.

“And that’s the picture, Dr. Lentz. It gets worse all the time. It’s getting

me now. The strain is telling on me; I can’t sleep, and I don’t think my judgment is