Thanks to CajunBear73 for his reviews and commentary.
=O=
Chapter 18: Atmospheric Testing
Astrid sighed as she admired the landscape before her.
The huge drive-in restaurant had been built atop a low ridge – the highest point in the entire area. Before it stretched a massive salt flat – a perfectly flat light brown plain that went all the way to the horizon, where it ran into a magnificent band of pale orange sky studded with gold-stained clouds, a band which quickly gave way to the light blue late afternoon sky.
The magnificent desolation of the Lop Nur wasteland was marred only by one structure. On the horizon, a large, helium-filled balloon hovered three hundred meters above the desert floor, held in place by dozens of slim steel wires – wisps of razor-thin thread spreading from an inverted white teardrop, just barely visible against an orange sky.
As much as he tried, Hiccup couldn't quite make out the cylindrical gondola dangling beneath the white balloon. He began to squirm in the driver's seat of their rented convertible. "I'm sorry I made a scene at the Fat Man exhibit." He blurted out.
Astrid waved it off. "You're still thinking about that? It was barely a loud conversation, Hiccup."
Hiccup shrunk into the leather chair. "I just… don't particularly like disagreeing with you so… much… on something."
Astrid raised an eyebrow. "Disagreements among friends are normal, Hiccup."
Hiccup shrugged.
=O=
The Hall of War was popular with visitors – much more so than the half-empty Hall of Energy had been.
On display were all manner of nuclear artillery shells, missiles, and freefall bombs, their surfaces carefully sanitized of features that might be of interest to a Soviet spy. A man-sized nuclear rocket launcher with a tiny football-sized warhead – barely portable by a team of two men or by a jeep - seemed the centerpiece of the gallery.
They made their way over to the Fat Man/World War II exhibit, where a series of maps, paragraphs, and photographs told the story of Operation Pumpkin, the massed nuclear strikes against Japanese industrial, military and population targets that had ended World War II.
Astrid could almost recite the details. Even cut off from the shreds of her ill-gotten Empire by an airtight blockade, with her fleet neutered, her people starving, and her vast industries under relentless air attack, the powerful industrial nation of Japan resisted to the end. Despite truly heroic attempts at defense suppression, every B-47, B-52 and B-60 sortie against Japanese targets was met with missiles, interceptors and even kamikaze rocket planes, churned out in their hundreds from subterranean factories. Navy carriers providing fighter cover were pummeled by swarms of sea-skimming missiles and kamikaze aircraft. Bombers and ships had gone down in scores.
It had still not been enough to stop the Pacifican onslaught. Better tactics were developed to deal with the Japanese weapons, and the Air Force and Navy pushed through, accepting the bearable-but-still-appalling loss rates and hideous expense of the new tactics (which required that four-fifths of aircraft be used to suppress defenses and protect strike aircraft) as facts of life.
Operation Pumpkin had been one such herculean effort. Following a weeklong defense suppression effort involving thousands of fighters and hundreds of light bombers flying tens of thousands of sorties, a dozen heavily escorted B-52s, the first Atomic Bombs nestled safely in their bellies, unleashed their payloads against targets in Kyoto, Yokohama, Tokyo, Kokura, Fukoka, Nagoya, Osaka, Kobe, Sasebo, Niigata, Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Factories, military headquarters, critical rail and road junctions, underground bases, and naval support facilities were destroyed with varying degrees of effectiveness, along with large urban areas. Rail yards, in particular, proved tough as heck, and the puny twenty-kiloton weapons, inaccurately dropped, failed to put them completely out of action. Hiroshima's tram system, for instance, was back up and running within two days*.
Five days later, the twelve cities were joined by a dozen more in Korea and Japan (one bomb embarrassingly "fizzling" over a port in Shikoku with a yield of barely two kilotons).
In the immortal understatement of the Japanese Emperor, 'the war situation had developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage'.
Japan surrendered two days later, saving millions of Japanese from slow, painful deaths by starvation from the years-long blockade and systematic destruction of food transportation networks that was in the works. The atomic bombings probably hadn't saved many Pacifican lives, though. The Army wouldn't have had the balls to invade anyway, especially with the Navy and Air Force backing away from the invasion plan as fast as possible after the bloodbath of Okinawa.
But if the Army had found the guts to invade… estimates of Pacifican military deaths went into the millions.
Astrid turned to Hiccup, who was reading through the display with an annoyed expression on his face. Hiccup shook his head. "We should have dropped them earlier."
Astrid did a double take. "You actually believe the idiot historians who keep saying that?"
Hiccup snorted. "We were making a bomb a week by March. But no, they had to wait until we were building a bomb a day."
Between the first Pacifican atomic test in early 1945 and the end of the war in September, the Joint Government lost a million men and women on the blood-soaked battlefields of Europe and Asia.
A million men died even as the scientists and engineers of the Manhattan Project district fiddled with the Atom Bomb, "improving" it, making it more economical, more destructive, more deliverable.
A million men died even as scientists misused their nigh-unlimited wartime resources, wasting precious "improved" bombs in needless nuclear tests and spending vast sums developing nuclear reactors and "the next generation" of hydrogen super-bombs.
A million men died even as military bureaucrats dallied, "productionizing" atom bombs, building up a "reserve stockpile", and gathering "critical intelligence" on whether the Germans or Japanese had atom bombs with which to retaliate.
And throughout that same period, half a million people – civilians, military, subject locals, Pacificans, Japanese - died every month in the Asia-Pacific region*.
Astrid rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. That's sentimentalist claptrap. The Japanese air defense system was a frickkin' meatgrinder. If we were going to expend the suppression effort to fly nuclear bombers through, we'd have been idiots to send them in one at a time. And how long before the Japanese would have developed countermeasures?" Astrid put her hands on her hips. "Hitting them hard and fast was the way to go."
Hiccup theatrically picked at his chin. "Ten thousand dead aircrews or a million dead people? Just wait. I'm good at math. I can calculate this one…"
Astrid cocked her head. "We had no idea that the Japanese would surrender as quickly as they did. They fought to the last child on Okinawa. Why would they surrender after we blew up a few cities with really big bombs? The objectives of Operation Pumpkin were military, not political."
Hiccup inhaled sharply. "Are you serious? They spent weeks analyzing the political implications! They knew atomic weapons would be political right from the start!" He threw his hands up. "They knew A-bombs were qualitatively new weapons. They knew they were much, much more powerful than chemicals. And they decided to think militarily? The whole thing stinks of excessive secrecy and poor decision-making."
Astrid's mouth was agape. "What history books have you been reading? The consensus among the Japanese military officers at the post-attack meeting was to keep fighting. The national mood would have permitted it. Heck, survivors of Hiroshima wanted to fight on, even after the surrender proclamation.* Elements of the Imperial Japanese Army launched a coup against the Emperor when they caught wind of the plan to surrender – a coup that was very nearly successful!* The only reason Japan surrendered was that, by sheer luck, the Emperor panicked when we dropped the A-bombs, rushed to surrender, and didn't get dethroned in the process!"
=O=
Hiccup sighed, and turned back towards the sunset. "Yeah, I guess. I see your point, and I guess you see mine." He chuckled. "I still think dropping 'em early would have saved lives."
Astrid sighed, uneager to resume the debate. "You know… my dad got shot down for the third time in '45. He lost both arms. Damned ejection seat. So every time the topic comes up, I keep thinking: If they'd dropped the bombs early, my father might have kept his arms. I should be the first person rooting for an early drop. But even I don't root for an early drop, because I know it would have been a mess. What the heck's wrong with everyone else?"
Hiccup looked thoughtful. "I pretty much spent the entire war at my boarding school in Hangzhou. Dad was off flying Thunderjets over the front, and mom was off... doing her own thing. I had it easy. Three square meals a day, and all that. You?"
Astrid frowned. "My mom worked the night shift in a factory in Wuhan."
Hiccup winced. "Wuhan? Did you…"
Astrid shook her head, and paused before resuming her tale. "I… was the eldest, so I had to take care of my siblings. Two brothers and a sister." She shuddered as she contemplated being separated from her family for four years. "Was… it lonely for you?"
Hiccup shrugged. "Huh. It… didn't feel lonely back then, I guess. It's not like I had much to compare the experience with. Plus, I was always grateful for the cafeteria. I hated ration queues so, so much."
While ration cards in theory ensured that everyone had enough food to live on, in practice, the Japanese invasion had badly disrupted supply chains for most foodstuffs. Incessant shortages for rationed and non-rationed items had been the norm. One day, the market might have no rice at all. The next, a rice train might finally have made it past military traffic jams, and the market might have nothing but rice … so everybody would show up at the market at the same time, and stand in lines for hours for barely adequate rations of rice.
Astrid chuckled. "Queues weren't that bad. You could get to know people, share gossip, talk to your sister… oh, who am I kidding. They sucked."
Hiccup's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Thank god for the economy."
Astrid nodded fervently.
The carhop arrived with their trays, and they dug into their noodles.
Astrid swallowed a dumpling, and put down her chopsticks. "I… forgot to tell you. I managed to catch some scuttlebutt from the squadron commander. We got put in for a commendation for our overflight."
Hiccup slurped from his spoon. "Did we find something interesting?"
Astrid shrugged. "We were the first people in-theater to get shot at by an SA-5. Funny how we'll never know what Toothless's radar saw, even if we were the ones in the cockpit." She licked her lips, and looked around the drive-in restaurant, packed with noodle-slurping motorists seated in their cars, all facing the salt flats. "This place is great. How did you get a reservation for the show?"
Hiccup scratched the back of his neck. "I… got lucky. They ran out of reservations the first time I checked, but then the border with India started heating up, and the Administration ordered an extra series of stockpile verification tests – you know, just in case we really do need to use the stockpile. So I got a seat."
The nuclear tests also served to remind the Indians that the Pacific had a stockpile, and was willing to use it.
Astrid chuckled. "So we have two things to thank the Indians for. Our commendation, and this meal." She raised her glass of milk tea – an iced mixture of strong red tea, evaporated milk and sugar. "To Red India."
Hiccup raised his glass. "To Red India."
The carhop cleared their trays, leaving Astrid and Hiccup alone with the sunset.
Below the bronze-and-purple cloud layers, the salt flats lay bare, bathed in a soft golden glow by the yolk-orange sun. As Astrid craned her head to the great vault of the heavens, she could just make out the first stars amongst the light indigo sky.
Hiccup pulled a sketchbook out of his bag, and began to sketch the sunset before them.
Astrid raised an eyebrow. "You sketch?"
Hiccup shrugged. "It's not like I can always have my camera on me."
Astrid gave him a nudge. "Mind if I have a look?"
Hiccup wavered. "I… uhhh… would prefer it if…"
Astrid rolled her eyes. "What? Did you draw me in here or something?"
Hiccup said nothing.
Astrid held out her hand. Hiccup duly closed the sketchbook, and handed it over.
Astrid turned the pages. Sketches of skyscapes, the view from 80,000 feet. Annotated sketches of their F-12, of the avionics, the control panels, detailing what worked and what didn't. Technical, clear, and precise. And classified to boot.
She stopped.
It was Big Pete and his ground crew, working on Toothless. She turned the page. Snotlout and the pilots, at the Officer's Club. Ruffnut and her backseater, laughing in their flight suits.
A sketch of herself, clambering out of Toothless in her pressure suit.
Another sketch of herself, walking down the flight line.
Astrid examined her sketches. She looked strong, confident, ready for anything.
She always looked confident in Hiccup's sketches, even when she distinctly recalled being otherwise.
A loudspeaker blared to life, interrupting her reverie. "Attention ladies and gentlemen. Initiation will occur in five minutes. Please ensure that all children are inside the child safety bunker, and that all members of your family have donned the flash goggles provided. Use of alternative eye protection is strictly prohibited."
Astrid closed the sketchbook, and handed it back to Hiccup. "They're beautiful, Hiccup."
Hiccup scratched the back of his head. "Uhh… thanks. You know, you'd be surprised how much a good illustration helps an engineering paper."
The loudspeaker blared again. "Today's third shot is "Jackpot Teal". Shot Jackpot Teal is a stockpile verification test of a small tactical atomic warhead, part of the Operation Jackpot test series ordered by the Bureau of Defense. The anticipated yield is ten kilotons. Stockpile verification tests like this one allow us to detect and correct problems that may arise from long-term storage of nuclear weapons, and maintain our confidence in our nuclear arsenal, upon which the security of this nation is critically dependent. Also, up yours, India! That land is ours! Ours!"
A wild cheer went up amongst the spectators, and Hiccup gently shook his head. Some people forgot the horrors of war far too readily.
Astrid hurriedly donned her heavily tinted flash goggles. The desert disappeared in an ocean of black, leaving only a pale, faded sun against a backdrop of dark grey sky.
Astrid smiled. "Remember that sunset we saw a couple weeks back? The one in the mountains?"
Hiccup blushed. "Yeah. That one was great."
Astrid nodded. "I'm almost happy that I fell into that stream. If we'd gotten to the end of the course on time, we'd have missed it."
"T-minus twenty seconds. Nineteen… Eighteen… Seventeen…"
"If your vision is not protected, turn away immediately."
Hiccup gave her hand a squeeze.
"Three… Two… One…"
Seven kilometers away, a great flashbulb went off over the salt flats. For a second, everything – the cars, the bunkers, the entire valley – glowed with the light of a dozen suns. A pulse of heat stung Astrid's skin.
The nuclear flash disappeared as quickly as it had come, and a second sun rose over Lop Nur. The nuclear fireball rapidly expanded, throwing out a pair of huge, glittering condensation rings as it faded. Initiated in the gondola of a balloon, high above the desert floor, the fireball died out before hitting the ground.
The fireball – now a roiling, dimly glowing cloud of superheated air - rose rapidly into the sky, sucking air, condensed water droplets, and dust from the salt flats scoured from the earth by the nuclear flash into a massive pillar of dust and smoke. A stalk, rising under a bulbous cap.
A mushroom cloud.
As if hitting an invisible ceiling, the cloud topped out at about six kilometers, and began to spill out along the boundary layer.
Scattered cheers rang out from the seated guests, and someone began to clap. All premature.
Astrid plugged her ears. Around her, Hiccup and the more seasoned spectators did the same.
A great crack rang out across the salt flats, blowing hats off onlookers and mussing hairdos, followed by a slow rumble as the energy of the explosion worked its way out of Lop Nur.
Astrid unplugged her ears, doffed her flash goggles, and began clapping even as cheers and whistles filled the air. Hiccup gave a whoop, and turned to give Astrid a celebratory hug, which Astrid returned.
"That was incredible! Did you feel that flash! We were seven kilometers away, and it still felt hot enough to burn!" Hiccup struggled to contain his excitement even as he continued to admire the mushroom cloud that continued to hang over the salt flats.
Astrid nodded. "Spectacular. I've seen a lot of explosions in my life, but that nuke still takes the cake. Nowhere near as scary as a SAM detonating fifty meters off your wingtip, though. Totally, totally worth it."
Closer to the detonation, the flash of heat would have lit everything on fire and burned skin down the bone, while the blast waves would have blown in windows (killing people with shards of flying glass) and knocked over buildings. Even closer in, instead of heating air, the glut of highly penetrating neutron radiation from the blast would have zipped right through steel (e.g. tank armor) to thoroughly warm the soft, chewy, water-filled humans from organs to skin – tearing up cells and genetic material and causing agonizing deaths from radiation poisoning in the process.
"Attention all spectators. The shot is complete, and the range is now closing. Please depart the viewing areas in your vehicles, or board the awaiting buses. Please remember to use the complimentary car wash at Atomland Central before the end of your journey."
Hiccup pouted. "Awww… the cloud's still there! And the balloon was waaay up from the desert floor. We can stay here all day. There's not gonna be any appreciable fallout."
Atomland had spent tens of thousands of dollars putting up a shot balloon (beneath which the bomb could be initiated) in order to ensure that the fireball would not reach the ground. This sharply limited the amount of dust that would get sucked into the nuclear fireball, turned radioactive by the nuclear bomb, lofted into the sky, and slowly fall out across the surrounding terrain as… well, radioactive fallout. Nonetheless, it was still Atomland policy to get spectators out of the fallout zone as quickly as possible, and give the cars a good scrub to wash off fallout – for peace of mind if nothing else.
The cloud continued to dissipate as the sun sank below the horizon.
"Uh… Hiccup. I don't know whether I'm repeating myself, but... thanks for bringing me here. It was a lot of fun." Astrid said.
Hiccup shrugged. "You're welcome."
=O=
