‘Gold doesn’t rust,’ Annalee reminded him, ‘but plutonium decays.’
‘Exactly. And it’s a deadly decay. Plutonium is man-made, the first transuranium creation. She is the real bride of Frankenstein: magical, entrancing, powerful – but without a soul. We don’t need her. I think that’s what Jacob Hind meant with his last breath: “Return to ninety-two.” If you steal fire, you’ll be burned.’
‘But isn’t that what you want to do?’
‘Yes, but with a crucial difference. I’m going to steal it from man and give it back to the gods. Or at least demand we give up our literal firepower until we’re wise enough not to use it.’
Annalee smiled sweetly. ‘I’d love to discuss the philosophical implications of firepower with you when we’re done fucking.’
For a moment she thought she had made a mistake, that she’d committed the female sacrilege of not taking men and their power seriously, of questioning their heroic passions, but the flash of anger in his eyes faded immediately and she felt his gloved hand on her thigh under the table.
‘I missed you, too,’ he said. ‘I have a place in Richmond, and I assume your print shop is busy.’
‘I wondered why I had the feeling our meeting in the library wasn’t mere coincidence. How did you know where to find me?’
‘I’m not without resources. And AMO, fittingly, is full of romantic souls who like to see young people get together even if it’s bad for security.’
‘I bet it wasn’t Elmo.’
‘Elmo wouldn’t tell me if I had an arrow in my back.’
As they stood to leave, Annalee said, ‘Do you think AMO will try to stop you?’
‘I think they’ll do what they think is right, just like I will. But first they have to find out what I’m going to do, which is unlikely, but not impossible. AMO has a genius for procuring high-quality information; it’s their real strength.’
‘Mine, too,’ Annalee said, slipping her arm around his waist, hooking a thumb in a belt loop. ‘Face to face, skin to skin, breath to breath.’
Annalee didn’t return to McKinley Street until late that evening. Daniel and Jason Wisk were at the kitchen table playing chess.
‘Hi Mom,’ Daniel greeted her, but his attention stayed on the board.
‘I used to be pretty good at this game,’ Jason said, ‘but Daniel is introducing me to reality.’
Daniel moved a rook behind his queen.
Jason dourly regarded the move. ‘Three more moves and only an act of God could save me. I concede.’ With elaborate formality, he toppled his king, nodding to Daniel. ‘You play well.’
Annalee, standing behind Daniel, ran her hand through his long brown hair as she said to Jason, ‘When I play him, he has to spot me a rook, two pawns, and three oversies. And he still beats me like a dumb dog.’
‘“Oversies,”’ Daniel repeated with disgust. ‘She says that’s girls’ rules. Do girls really have different rules?’
‘So they claim,’ Jason sighed.
‘Are they written down?’
Annalee gently pushed Daniel’s head down toward the board, answering, ‘Never. That’s the first rule.’
Jason laughed. He was bright, sweet, considerate, good-looking, and self-effacing without being wimpy. He treated Daniel like a real person instead of a kid. She liked him, had initially been attracted to him, but the fact that he had a solid marriage and three children at home had kept things comfortably uncomplicated. But it was unusual for him to be out so late, so she said, ‘Did Millie finally throw you out or do we have a rush order on the board?’
Jason cleared his throat. ‘None of the above. Millie and the kids are visiting her folks in Santa Monica so I’m allowed on the streets after dark, and other than the traveling papers for Mr Elwood the board is clean, and there’s no hurry on those. I only stopped by to learn some humility at Daniel’s hand and to relay some information that may or may not interest you – since it makes no particular sense to me, I wouldn’t presume to know. The message is that the wandering scientist has returned and you might expect a visit from an old friend named Malloy. I have a number for you to call if you want more information. Or have any.’ He handed her a folded slip of paper from his jacket pocket. ‘“Gone Fishing” is the access code.’
Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘That’s pretty corny.’
‘But discreet,’ Annalee said. She put the number in her purse without looking at it.
As soon as the door closed behind Jason, Daniel turned to Annalee and said, ‘I’ll bet you a hundred nights of doing dishes against that old piece of celery in the fridge that you were with Shamus today.’
‘You shouldn’t try to take advantage of your mother when she’s in a weakened condition. No bet, kiddo. But I must say you’re either very perceptive or I’m really transparent.’
‘Well, it was easy for me to tell because you got a look just like you had that morning after the first time you spent the night with him.’
‘What sort of look? Glowing? Transported? Stupid?’
‘Yeah. Except I would say it was more like shining and happy and a little bit worried. No, not worried – sad.’
‘That about covers it,’ Annalee said. Shamus had specifically asked her not to tell Daniel about the plutonium theft he was plotting, but he didn’t know Daniel like she did. She’d agreed not to tell him. But she trusted Daniel more than she could ever trust Shamus. The powerful combination of girls’ rules and mothers’ rules provided an exception. She told Daniel everything except the target. When she finished, he had his usual barrage of questions. The first one twisted her heart.
‘Do you think he can pull it off?’
‘Arrggh,’ Annalee groaned. ‘The only trouble with you men is that you’re males! What difference does it make if he pulls it off? If he doesn’t he’s dead or in prison for a billion years, and if he does he’s hunted into the ground. There’s no fucking difference, don’t you see? When I’m with Shamus, there’s something between us that I need. It’s not Shamus and it’s not me; it’s what we are together. A connection. A circuit. And if we’re not together there’s no connection and the circuit’s broken and the juice doesn’t flow. And whether he steals the plutonium or not we won’t be together.’
‘You’re in love?’
‘I’d like the chance to find out.’
Daniel thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you better call that number Jason gave you and get more information.’
‘I can’t. It would be a betrayal. They’d try to stop him.’
‘No, I meant get some information on love. You wouldn’t have to mention the plutonium.’
‘Daniel, I would have to. Besides, I’ve got more information on love than I need.’
‘Well, maybe you could talk Shamus out of it.’
‘Maybe I could talk a bird out of the sky.’
Daniel started putting away the chess pieces. ‘I don’t see any good endings.’
‘Me either.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Enjoy it while I can and cry when it’s over.’
Daniel gave her a puzzled look but said nothing. He folded the chessboard and put it back in its box. ‘I thought of a good ending.’
‘Tell me.’
‘If Shamus steals the plutonium and gets them to close all the nuclear plants, maybe he’ll be a hero. Maybe they’ll give him a medal instead of putting him in prison, and you could get married.’
‘You want to bet a hundred nights of dishes on it?’
‘No.’
‘How about one night for you against a thousand for me?’
‘Sure. I’ll always bet that anything can happen. I love longshots.’
‘Oh yeah? Well I love you.’ She put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed him to her side. ‘Thanks for the moral support.’ She giggled. ‘Moral support. Can you give moral support to an unwed mother forger who has her head up her heart over some crazy poet planning a plutonium heist? Jesus, Daniel, I have no idea wh
at I’m doing.’
Daniel gave her a little hug, but he didn’t say anything.
Annalee saw Shamus once a week for the first month, running checks on each other to be sure they weren’t followed. When things seemed secure, they began meeting more often, but always at his apartment on the edge of Richmond. Daniel went with her sometimes, but on those occasions they’d meet Shamus at a prearranged location and go to a movie or an A’s game or drive up the coast in Annalee’s old Toyota. Daniel didn’t accompany them often. He felt that he disturbed some current between them. Shamus also seemed to be trying too hard to impress him. And it bothered him that Shamus never mentioned that he was planning to steal some plutonium.
When Shamus and Annalee had been lovers again for almost half a year, he asked if she would help him with the theft.
Annalee sat up in bed, an unseasonably warm October breeze from the open window billowing her hair. ‘Doing what?’
‘I’d rather not tell you until it’s all set up. That’s for your protection, you understand. In fact, I’ll be the only one to know you’re involved. But the task itself is safe and simple, and it requires someone I absolutely trust.’
Annalee said softly, ‘I don’t want you to do it, you know. Which doesn’t mean I won’t help you with everything I’ve got.’
‘Sweetie, I’m going to try whether you help me or not. And I’ll love you whether I succeed or not. But I can’t love you if we’re nuked into oblivion. There are things more important than us.’
‘Well, go make love to them.’ Annalee tossed her hair. ‘Go make love to the world.’
Shamus touched her bare shoulder with his black-gloved hand, then ran it gently down her spine. ‘I am,’ he said.
Trembling, Annalee slid down beside him and put her hand on his chest. ‘I’ll help you.’
As Christmas approached, Shamus became increasingly moody and intensely preoccupied. He explained to Annalee that he’d hoped to steal the plutonium on Christmas Eve but that the plan wasn’t coming together. Some of the people he needed wouldn’t be available till late January. It was the first she’d heard that others would be involved. She knew better than to ask who they were or how many were included, but she was worried to learn of accomplices – the more who knew, the greater the risk. Shamus assured her they didn’t know each other and, with two exceptions, would never meet – and the two who would meet would be together less than ten minutes, and that would be after the job. He still wouldn’t tell Annalee her role in the heist. When she argued that she’d like to be prepared, he promised he’d tell her in plenty of time.
For Christmas Shamus gave Daniel a beautifully framed copy of the Periodic Table of the Elements from which he’d carefully excised what he called ‘the transuranium abominations.’ He gave Annalee a lovely gold chain necklace, each delicate link intricately connected to the next in a different way. As she examined it again later in her bedroom mirror, she was taken with the terrifying understanding that she was all he had left of reality. She felt a wild impulse to rip the necklace off and tear it apart, but instead she flung herself on the bed and wept. She wished it would happen, be over, end – even though she still didn’t see a good ending. But her and Daniel’s present to Shamus at least kept the faith of a happy conclusion. When he opened their package, he found seventeen separate identities to choose from. He laughed at the Harvard diploma certifying his doctorate in chemistry. It was the only time he laughed all day.
January was worse. He talked obsessively about plutonium, citing its connection in myth with the underworld, that in fact it took its name from Pluto, god of the dead, and that its namesake planet was absent from the ancient astrological charts – because, he speculated, it was meant to remain unknown, forbidden knowledge, the perilous edge. Nor did it escape his notice that the American political system, despite its democratic façade, was clearly a plutocracy, a government by wealth, whether rich individuals or corporate monopolies. The signs, he repeated incessantly, made it overwhelmingly plain that human consciousness was hurtling toward a plutonic apocalypse, a reign of shadow. The only hope of stopping it was a leap of wisdom, and wisdom took time. He would kidnap death and ransom it for time.
Annalee was wondering how much more she could stand when she knocked on his apartment door the night of February 3. She’d decided that if he mentioned plutonium or Greek mythology or any other associative notion she would turn around and leave. Instead she found a bottle of Mumm’s on ice, glasses ready on the candlelit table, and a happy, relaxed Shamus. ‘It’s set for the evening of the fifteenth,’ he greeted her. ‘The Livermore Lab. I want you to place a diversionary device – a small bomb – in an alley in the industrial area. It runs between two warehouses and no one should be around – there’s not even a watchman. When you’ve placed it, I want you to call me from a pay phone. I’ll give you the number and the exact locations that morning. Until then, let’s not talk about it, think about it, worry about it. Just you and me in the here and now, every night till then.’
‘Pour the champagne,’ Annalee said.
Annalee didn’t get home until noon the next day. She knew by the way Daniel looked at her that he knew something was up. She consulted each of her mixed emotions as she worked in the darkroom, debating whether she should tell him or not, and reached no decision. After dinner he said, without preamble, ‘You weren’t supposed to tell me about the plutonium theft to start with. Since you did, you might as well tell me the rest.’
So she did and was immediately sorry.
‘I want to go with you,’ he said. ‘I want to help.’
‘No. Absolutely, finally, unalterably no. No you can’t go, and no discussion. You’re not riding around with a bomb in a car.’
‘You are. And you told me Shamus said it’s safe.’
‘I’m not going to risk you. No. End of discussion.’
‘I won’t risk you, either. Suppose somebody happens along and sees you between the time you leave the car and go in the alley and come back? You need someone in the car, a lookout, to warn you if a cop or somebody shows up – that’s the point of greatest vulnerability. Besides, I’m great cover – if you get stopped, who’d suspect a bomb with a kid in the car?’
‘Exactly. Not a mother on this planet would be that stupid. Including me.’
‘Algerian mothers took their kids along when they planted bombs.’
‘Oh yeah, how do you know that?’
‘I read books.’
‘No. No. Forget it.’
‘I want to ask Shamus.’
‘Goddammit, Daniel, you can’t ask Shamus: You’re not supposed to know, remember?’
‘But I do.’
‘What does that mean?’ Annalee said, ice in her tone. ‘That you’d betray me out of childish spite?’
‘No. It means I’m implicated, but that I can’t share in the responsibility. That’s a betrayal, too. Mom, we share a lot between us – not everything, but a lot. I’m willing to share the risk of delivering the bomb because I share the risk of knowing about it. You have to quit feeling responsible for me. I’m almost fourteen. I need to be responsible for myself.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Annalee shook her head. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’
‘Besides, you need a lookout and moral support. And cover. And I need to do it. Let me go.’
Annalee put her head down on the table. When she lifted it, she said with weary resignation, ‘All right. You can go. Not because you’re my son – that defies my maternal instincts – but because you’re you.’
The next night with Shamus she told him that she was sure Daniel knew something was going on.
‘Shit!’ Shamus exploded, jumping from the bed and pacing the room naked.
Stung by his vehemence, Annalee said nothing.
‘Okay,’ Shamus said, more in control, ‘what does he know, or think he knows? And how?’
‘How? Jesus, Shamus, he’s a piece of my heart! He can feel it from me, that’s how. And that’s p
robably what he knows – nothing specific, just something in the air, a tension, an edge.’
‘Has he said anything specific?’
‘A couple of times he asked me if I was okay. Yesterday he asked me if there was anything going on that he should know about.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him we were going through a tense time in our relationship.’
‘Do you think he’s talked to anyone else?’
‘Never happen.’
Shamus paced for a moment, then came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Daniel’s bright, he’s got heart, he’s loyal, but he’s a kid. I don’t know about kids. You do, and you know him in particular. Any suggestions how to handle this? Or is that why you brought it up?’
‘If you’re absolutely sure about the bomb being safe to transport, I think he should go with me.’
Shamus stared at her. ‘Annalee, if that bomb wasn’t safe, you wouldn’t be carrying it. Do you understand that?’