The lead technician gave a command. One of the operators pulled a lever, and the panels of the radiation shield edged shut, sealing in the Crucible with a flat bang. Another noise could be heard over the accelerator: a deep rumble of vacuum pumps.
The readout was rapidly approaching five thousand. A technician adjusted a dial, the rate of increase slowing slightly. The man in charge raised a hand, saying something in Korean that the visitors could only interpret as ‘Get ready . . .’
Five thousand – and the lights went out, plunging the room into a darkness broken only by the dim glow of the instruments. The technician barked an order. Another man worked a control. There was the clack of a heavy-duty circuit closing, and the room returned to full illumination. ‘Think you need to fix your fuse box,’ said Eddie.
‘They have switched in the second-stage power,’ Mikkelsson explained. ‘The accelerator is now at its maximum output. The liquid nitrogen cooling system has been brought to full capacity to stop the electromagnets from melting.’
The readings kept rising, the accelerator’s pulsing whine becoming a shriek. Tension was clear on the technicians’ faces as the seconds passed, then minutes. Nina imagined that if something went wrong with the process, the glowering Kang would hold them personally responsible for the failure.
The head technician bent over one of the displays, watching it unblinkingly. He began what sounded like a countdown. The Koreans all held their breath—
A strident buzzer made Nina jump. There was a rush of activity around the room as the techs rapidly worked the controls. The digital readout, which had just topped a figure of twelve thousand, plunged back towards zero as the electrical wail died down.
‘That’s it?’ Eddie asked, moving his cupped hands from his crotch.
‘It is,’ Mikkelsson confirmed. ‘That was the neutron burst.’ He looked over the shoulder of one of the white-coated Koreans at a screen, nodding in approval. ‘I believe the process has been successful. But we shall soon see for ourselves.’
A loud hiss of air came from below as the vacuum inside the radiation shield was breached. The panels opened, a vaporous cloud wafting out. The lead technician’s gaze snapped to a red-painted box on one wall, a radiation warning trefoil stencilled on frosted glass, but it remained unlit. He gave more instructions, his men completing the accelerator’s shutdown procedures while the two who had loaded the Crucible returned to extract its contents. The crane arm descended again, slowly lifting out the sphere.
‘It’s changed,’ said Nina. It was still dark grey, but subtly different in lustre.
‘Pure plutonium-239,’ said Mikkelsson, watching as one of the men ran a Geiger counter over it. The readings were to his satisfaction, and relief. ‘The uranium-238 was cast so it could be fitted straight into an already manufactured warhead after conversion. The North Koreans have a stockpile of such warheads based on proven Soviet designs, simply waiting for their nuclear cores.’
‘And I thought it was South Korea that was supposed to be super-efficient,’ Eddie said. ‘So that’s the plan, is it? Crank out a load of nukes, then tell the world, “Better not fuck with us”?’
‘These warheads are not for North Korea,’ Mikkelsson replied. ‘Not the first ones, at least.’
‘Then who?’ asked Nina, surprised.
Kang answered her question. ‘Saudi Arabia.’
That brought a splutter of disbelief from Eddie. ‘What?’ said Nina. ‘Saudi Arabia? What the hell does Saudi Arabia want with nukes?’
‘The balance of terror,’ said Mikkelsson. ‘The Saudis want to strengthen their hand against Iran, and Israel. Nuclear weapons will give them that strength. The United States has refused to grant the Saudis access to nuclear technology because of the threat to Israel, but North Korea is willing to supply it in exchange for hard currency – and more importantly, oil.’
‘The Israelis’ll go fucking apeshit!’ Eddie protested. ‘They’ve got nukes of their own, and there are plenty of Israeli politicians who’ve been itching for an excuse to use ’em.’
‘This’ll destabilise the entire Gulf,’ added Nina. ‘Iran only just stopped its nuclear weapons programme – how do you think they’ll react to having one of their biggest enemies getting hold of them?’
‘They will buy them from us also,’ said Kang smugly. ‘An agreement has been made.’
‘Violating a treaty that took years to work out?’
‘The Iranian treaty will not be violated,’ Mikkelsson said. ‘I know, I helped negotiate it. It prevents Iran from developing its own nuclear fission weapons using uranium from its existing facilities. It does not stop them from buying plutonium-based fusion weapons from other nations. The importation of weapons systems was specifically excluded from the terms.’
Eddie let out a disgusted breath. ‘Fucking diplomats. Always leaving loopholes!’
‘And I guess there were other loopholes in the treaty you negotiated with North Korea, right?’ said Nina.
The Icelander nodded. ‘Restrictions were placed on the production of fissile material in its nuclear reactors. This,’ he nodded towards the particle accelerator, ‘is not a reactor. Therefore it is outside the terms of the treaty.’
‘I doubt the US will see it that way.’
‘What the United States thinks is irrelevant. By the time they learn the truth, North Korea will already have an arsenal of thermonuclear ballistic missiles capable of striking South Korea, Japan, even mainland America. The balance of terror will be restored, North Korea will feel safer from American aggression – and a country that feels secure is less inclined to take overtly aggressive acts. You only have to look at your own country before and after 9/11 for proof of that, Nina.’
‘Peace through fear, huh?’ she said scathingly.
‘As the writer Heinlein – an American, I might add – once said, “An armed society is a polite society.” Soon, many more nations will be armed. When everyone has a finger on the trigger, they become very careful about pulling it.’
‘And what happens when someone sneezes when their finger’s on the trigger?’ Eddie demanded.
Before Mikkelsson could provide a smug answer, Sarah again whispered to him, more forcefully than before. ‘Yes, soon,’ he snapped.
‘No, now, Fenrir,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to know. We’ve got to know!’
‘We do, sir,’ added De Klerx, glaring at Nina and Eddie.
‘Very well,’ said Mikkelsson – but before he could say anything more, the group was distracted by the return of the two technicians from the lower chamber. They were carrying between them a small but heavy metal case.
‘Hold on,’ said Eddie in alarm, retreating until a jab from a soldier’s rifle brought him to a halt. ‘You’re bringing fucking plutonium in here?’
Mikkelsson smiled. ‘It is perfectly safe. Colonel, if I may?’ Kang nodded. The diplomat had a brief exchange in Korean with the senior technician, who then gave an order. The two men set down the case and opened it. Eddie tried to edge away, but the Icelander indicated the red box on the wall. ‘If the radiation readings were at even half a dangerous level, that alarm would have sounded.’
‘My sister thought that about her smoke alarm, until she burned some toast and it turned out the battery was flat,’ Eddie retorted.
‘I assure you, we are safe. If we were not, I would not do this.’ He reached into the case and – with effort – lifted out the sphere.
‘You can touch it?’ said Nina, both amazed and aghast.
‘I told you, it is pure plutonium-239. It produces almost no radiation; it is plutonium-240 that is dangerous. This emits only alpha particles, and they are so weak they cannot even penetrate the skin.’ He held it out to her. ‘Here. Touch it.’
She hesitated, but Kang and Bok’s expressions made her fear that refusal might not be a ch
oice. Instead, she gingerly brushed the sphere with a fingertip – and involuntarily flinched back.
‘What is it?’ Eddie said, alarmed. ‘Is it electrified?’
‘No, it’s just . . . warm.’ She put her finger on it again. The metal felt hotter than body temperature, but not uncomfortably so. Nevertheless, she withdrew after only a few seconds.
‘You have had a rare privilege,’ Mikkelsson told her. ‘Few people have touched pure plutonium with their bare hands.’ He looked at Eddie. ‘And you?’
‘I’ll give it a miss, thanks,’ said Eddie firmly.
Mikkelsson shrugged, carefully returning the sphere to its case and closing the lid. The head technician spoke with the officers, then Bok used a walkie-talkie to issue a command to someone elsewhere in the base. ‘So now what?’ Nina asked as the other technicians began another series of checks and the two men who had brought the plutonium sphere up from the lower level headed back down the stairs.
‘Now, the particle accelerator is being readied to convert another sphere of uranium to plutonium,’ Mikkelsson said. ‘While this one,’ he gestured at the canister, ‘will be transported with the others, along with their warheads and missiles, to a launch facility at al-Sulayyil in Saudi Arabia.’ He crossed the room to the case Nina had brought. ‘As for the second Crucible, Colonel Kang agreed that we should let you bring it to North Korea, but I am wondering if I should buy it back. It does belong to the Legacy, after all. And soon it will be a great advantage to have our own gold factory. The markets always panic in times of instability and buy gold, raising the price.’
Kang frowned. ‘The Crucibles are ours.’
‘I am sure we can negotiate something to our mutual benefit. My gold will be too heavy to take it all in our jet. Perhaps some could be left with you for . . . safe keeping?’
Bok understood his meaning at once and grinned slyly; Kang took long enough to translate the suggestion that the guide began to do so for him before being curtly shouted down. ‘Yes. We can negotiate. For the good of North Korea,’ the colonel added, giving the translator a stern look of warning that he should never tell anyone else what he had heard. The man quailed.
Several more soldiers entered, led by the broad-jawed captain Kang had spoken to outside. He snapped to attention before his commanding officer, his team following suit. Kang acknowledged with a salute of his own, then reeled off commands. The captain responded smartly, his men loading the canister holding the plutonium on to a small cart, though with the same wary trepidation as Eddie.
‘How come they’re not juggling the thing about if it’s so safe?’ said the Englishman.
‘The dangers of a small amount of knowledge,’ the Icelander replied. ‘North Korea operates on the principle of need-to-know, and its soldiers do not need to know anything. They probably believe, like the uneducated in the West, that all nuclear materials are equally dangerous and instantly deadly. Captain Sek is responsible for delivering the plutonium and the warheads; all he needs to know is that if anything should go wrong, he is accountable.’
‘I guess they don’t need to know English either,’ said Nina. ‘Otherwise they’d wise up with us talking about it.’
‘It is not encouraged,’ said Bok with a smirk. ‘Not for the ordinary people.’
Kang gave more orders. The team wheeled the cart out of the control room. The particle accelerator started to build up power again, its noise rising. ‘Fenrir,’ said Sarah in a tone of pent-up frustration.
‘In a moment,’ Mikkelsson answered, turning to Kang.
‘No. Now.’ She rounded him to stand before Nina and Eddie. ‘Where’s Anastasia? What happened to her, where is she? Where’s my daughter?’ Frustration was replaced by desperation, her voice quavering.
Nina couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy. ‘She’s . . . I’m sorry. She’s dead.’
Sarah’s expression froze as she struggled to take in the words. ‘What?’ barked De Klerx, his own shock holding back anger. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, she’s dead.’
‘She . . .’ Sarah’s face crumpled into anguish. ‘No, no, she . . . she can’t be. Not my girl, she . . .’ Behind her, Mikkelsson was unreadable, staring silently at the couple.
‘I’m sorry,’ Nina repeated.
De Klerx clenched his fists into tight, furious balls. ‘How did she die?’
‘She fell into the frozen lake.’
He shook his head. ‘No. No! She knew Iceland, she knew the lake. She would never have been that careless! What really happened?’ His eyes narrowed, fixing upon Eddie. ‘What did you do?’
‘Does it matter?’ Eddie asked, assessing the Dutchman’s mental state. He was close to snapping in sheer rage, meaning he might be provoked into doing something unwise . . .
‘Yes, it matters!’ De Klerx snarled. ‘Tell me! Tell me now!’
‘Remember that grenade launcher you had in Greece? I fired it into the ice underneath her. Boom.’ He mimed pulling a trigger, then raised his hand to blow smoke from an imaginary gun. ‘She went swimming with the elves.’ Sarah was shocked, Mikkelsson’s face still an emotionless mask – but De Klerx was now at the point of explosion.
‘Eddie . . .’ said Nina in surprised warning.
He pressed on, forcing a mocking smile. ‘Yeah, I killed her. What’re you gonna do about it, clog boy?’
Detonation. ‘I will kill you!’ De Klerx’s voice rose to a shriek as he launched himself at the Yorkshireman.
39
The attack caught the North Koreans by surprise, the soldiers hurriedly pulling back as De Klerx ploughed into Eddie. One brought up his gun, but Kang waved him down. A soldier hauled Nina away as Eddie fought back. The two brawling men lurched across the control room.
‘Rutger, stop!’ Sarah cried, but De Klerx ignored her as he drove a series of furious punches at the Englishman. Eddie blocked most of them, but a couple got through, making him stagger backwards. The soldiers moved to encircle the fight, turning the room’s centre into a ring. Some of the technicians left their stations to get clear, others watching in fascination.
‘Ik zal je vermoorden!’ De Klerx shrieked, sending another frenzied blow at his opponent. Eddie swept his forearm up to intercept it, then snapped a punch under the Dutchman’s guard to hit his mouth. De Klerx’s head jerked back. The taste of blood from his split lip enraged him even more – and he charged at the other man with an incoherent scream.
Eddie raised both arms to block him, but De Klerx had momentum on his side. Both men thumped into the human wall surrounding them. The soldiers retreated, one stumbling over a technician’s chair. Eddie slammed a fist into De Klerx’s stomach, making him gasp, but before he could follow up the attack a North Korean clubbed him with a rifle butt. He yelled in pain, stumbling forward, only to take a blow to his jaw.
Kang laughed. Now having approval from their superior officer, the soldiers broke their silence to jeer and holler at the battle as if it were a boxing match. Or, Nina realised from the sadistic glee on their faces, a cage match, a cockfight. They had enjoyed similar spectacles before, and were looking forward to seeing one of the contestants being beaten half to death.
Or fully.
‘Stop them!’ she cried. Even the head technician was entranced, letting out thrilled little gasps each time a punch landed. ‘This is insane!’ She turned to the Mikkelssons. Sarah was weeping, her face buried in her husband’s shoulder, while the tall Icelander watched the brawl with cold intensity.
‘They are fighters,’ said Kang, mouth curling with relish as blood began to speckle the white-painted floor. ‘Let them fight.’
Nina turned away in disgust as the two technicians in charge of loading the Crucible ran up the stairs to see what was going on. One of the other operators suddenly remembered that he had a task to perform and whirled back to hi
s control panel. He pulled the lever to close the radiation shield, the grumble of the vacuum pumps becoming audible over the accelerator’s whine. That done, he turned back to watch the fight.
The large digital wall display climbed again, two thousand and rising . . .
Eddie jerked sideways to avoid a kick. He jabbed at De Klerx’s head again, but only caught the Dutchman a glancing blow. A snarl, and another strike came – aimed at his groin. He twisted away from it—
A rifle butt thudded against his shoulder. He gasped, reeling as hands shoved him back into the centre of the amorphous battleground. De Klerx was waiting, his boot heel hitting Eddie’s knee. The Yorkshireman yelled as his leg gave way, only just catching himself as he dropped to the floor. Another swing of his enemy’s foot struck him in the side. The impact bowled him into the soldiers’ shins. They jumped back, a technician looking over their shoulders almost falling as they collided with him. Kang cackled, the others echoing the sound sycophantically.
More kicks, this time from the Koreans. Eddie scrambled clear. De Klerx was right on him, his foot thumping painfully against his hip. He rolled again, this time using the movement to jump upright. De Klerx advanced, balled fists raised. Eddie made a circling retreat, trying to stay out of reach of the soldiers behind him—
‘Eddie! The power’s building again!’
Nina – but why would she tell him that? He glanced towards her. She was beyond the wall of leering soldiers, another man holding her arm with one hand. The Type 58 rifle in his other was pointed at the ground, not his prisoner. And just behind her were the control panels, the operators gawping at the fight rather than watching their instruments . . .
He realised what she was trying to tell him. Another glance, this at the stairwell to the lower floor. Nobody was watching it. An escape route – if they could reach it.
Which was a big if.
De Klerx closed in. Eddie hurriedly sidestepped so the Dutchman was between him and Nina – then dropped his head and made a screaming charge at the other man.