The Worlds of Robert A. Heinlein

suggested unmalicious amusement at the worst that life, or men, could do.

He had gusto. King found him remarkably easy to talk to.

At Lentz’s suggestion the superintendent went first into the history of the

atomic power plant, how the fission of the uranium atom by Dr. Otto Hahn in

December, 1938, had opened up the way to atomic power. The door was opened

just a crack; the process to be self-perpetuating and commercially usable

required an enormously greater mass of uranium than there was available in

the entire civilized world at that time.

But the discovery, fifteen years later, of enormous deposits of pitchblende

in the old rock underlying Little America removed that obstacle. The

deposits were similar to those previously worked at Great Bear Lake in the

arctic north of Canada, but so much more extensive that the eventual

possibility of accumulating enough uranium to build an atomic power plant

became evident.

The demand for commercially usable, cheap power had never been satiated.

Even the Douglas-Martin sun-power screens, used to drive the roaring road

cities of the period and for a myriad other industrial purposes, were not

sufficient to fill the ever-growing demand. They had saved the country from

impending famine of oil and coal, but their maximum output of approximately

one horsepower per square yard of sun-illuminated surface put a definite

limit to the power from that source available in any given geographical

area. Atomic power was needed — was demanded.

But theoretical atomic physics predicted that a uranium mass sufficiently

large to assist in its own disintegration might assist too well — blow up

instantaneously,

with such force that it would probably wreck every man-made structure on

the globe and conceivably destroy the entire human race as well. They dared

not build the bomb, even though the uranium was available.

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

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

explosion once started, would disrupt the molar mass inclosing 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.

“For the mass we use in the bomb, his equations predict a possible force of

explosion one seventh of one percent of the force of complete explosion.

That alone, of course, would be incomprehensibly destructive — about the

equivalent of a hundred and forty thousand tons of TNT — 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 hard radiation that leaks out of the bomb, 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 bomb when he blew

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