“It was, I assure you, pure luck meeting blind chance.”
The humility he displayed made Bill feel bad about the rain he was about to sprinkle on the man’s parade. “I am duty-bound by all that I know of science to ask the following question, Professor.”
“I know your next question; I wish I knew with scientific certainty that the risk can be contained. I can only tell you that at the foothills of the atomic age, there were many learned and weighty thinkers who predicted that an atomic chain reaction, once initiated, could not be stopped and that everything, all of Earth, would be consumed in atomic fire. They were resolute and certain of their math, their findings and their beliefs. Yet, almost eighty years of atomic energy and research later, we are all still here, as is the Earth.”
Bill was well aware of the atomic controversy of the late 30s and early 40s, but the atomic bomb ended all that when it only evaporated the Nevada Salt Flats and left the rest of the Earth intact. Still, he knew that if he had been advising President Truman at that time, he would have warned against detonating the “gadget” in the atmosphere. “Do you have insight into the controlling method to arrest the possible calamitous outcome, as barium rods are used to control an otherwise very unstoppable nuclear chain reaction?”
“At this time no. But I believe that discovery is at hand. In fact, the latest data from the LHC at CERN may be indicative of suppressing plasma.”
“Professor, the president has asked me to advise him on this. I feel it is the most crucial scientific decision since the Manhattan project. I cannot be a proponent of further active research, or an attempt at agitating, splitting or illuminating the particle without simultaneously developing the safeguards, because this time the critics may be right.” Bill didn’t have to remind Landau that along with the critics being right, it would also be the end of all existence if the God Particle didn’t like being dissected.
“I fully understand. I do not envy your position, Dr. Hiccock, but providence and fate have chosen you. May your judgment be guided by divine intervention and inscrutable logic.”
“Professor, I believe you have just uttered the first scientific prayer.”
The car was at the reception desk promptly at 6 a.m. Having said their goodbyes the night before, Brooke didn’t awaken Mathilde to say goodbye, and she surmised they would see more of each other now. The car was to take her to the train terminal in Nice, where she would board the Côte d’Azur. As Brooke walked behind the young hotel bellman who was pushing the cart with her luggage on it, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Mathilde said about him and his butt. She found herself staring as he held the cart back from rolling down the steep path to the hotel’s entrance area. She couldn’t get rid of the image her cousin had planted in her mind the night before about what he liked to have done to him in the back while she was pleasuring him from the front. She literally had to shake her head to wash the riveting images that formed in her mind anyway. “Here you go, Benji, thank you,” she said in French as she handed him more than twice what would have been considered a great tip. As she got in the car, he shut the door. His crotch was now eye level with her through the rear seat window. She laughed to herself, and when he turned around to answer someone who called out to him she found herself staring at his now infamous butt. All she could say to herself was, God bless you, Mathilde.
At 9 a.m. she was in the Office of the Ports in Marseilles, to track the shipment of P784 from its point of embarkation.
Here the computer age sped things along quite nicely. The shipment originated from the Picardie region in Northern France and had been shipped by rail to the port, where it was loaded on the rusting tanker/freighter destined to Saint-Eugene in Algeria. By 11 a.m. Brooke was aboard the TGV to Paris. From the high-speed train she requested the embassy to find out about the Picardie Company that made the chemical. They, in turn, notified her that upon her return to Paris a meeting had been scheduled for her with Joey and Director Dupré.
“…so then when Mitchell was elected, somehow they got my name and he offered me the post.”
“May I just say, Dr. Hiccock, that your tenure has been a much needed boost to science and technology.”
“You are too kind, Professor, but all I do is cheerlead for the team, a team with star players on it like yourself.”
“Yes, but if you’ll allow me an analogy, you are the star quarterback of that team.”
Bill was genuinely touched that this giant of science knew of his gridiron past. “Tell me, are my suspicions correct that you played some organized ball at one point, as well?”
“Yes, I was picked up by the White Sox in ’58. But I never made it out of the farm system, then my wife died, and I knew I’d never remarry, so I used every dollar I had saved for tuition and went back to school. There I found my new game in atomic physics.”
“Ah, I guess sports has played a role in both our lives.”
Then his mood turned serious. “May I ask something that may be rather indelicate?”
“Sure. Feel free.”
“There is a rumor that you have a private science network. If that were true, how would one such as myself be afforded membership in such an indispensable enterprise? I believe I have suitable enough credentials, but I will leave that assessment to your judgment.”
“Professor, may I be blunt?”
“Science is blunt.”
“Although at first I didn’t recognize your name, I see now that that was my oversight. This is the first time I have focused on you or your work. In fact, I used that very network to garner information on you this morning. My network, Scientific Community Involved in America’s Defense…”
“Yes, that’s it, SCIAD!”
“Exactly, well that was the outgrowth of several threats and attacks against our country, which in many cases, I am happy to say, have been thwarted by a strong scientific analysis and investigation. I would be happy to consider you as an “outer ring” member. My assistant, Cheryl, will be in touch next week when I return to Washington after this little vacation.”
“Yes, thank you. And I do apologize that the timing of our meeting necessitated interrupting your family time.”
“Thank you for coming here and making it less intrusive.”
“Well, I’d best be going.”
“Allow me to walk you to the helipad.”
“That won’t be necessary; go enjoy your vacation.”
“We are not scheduled to ride until four, so I have ten minutes.”
As they walked back down the path to the heliport, the professor asked for clarification, “What are the outer rings?”
“Forgive me a little scientific bravado, but I have organized SCIAD in the model of an atom’s electron shell. The inner rings K, L, M, and N hold Class One security clearance. They are cleared by the president to see raw, top-secret intel. The second group of rings, O, P, Q, comprise people who may not want, or would not do well under, the federal scrutiny that Class One would involve. Yet, their scientific opinion and acumen is of great service to our nation.”
“And am I correct in assuming that the nucleus would be you?”
“In fact, that is my screen name in the network.”
“Well, again, I would be honored to contribute in any ring.”
“Thank you, and good luck, Professor.”
With that, Landau was met by a Marine Guard who took his briefcase and escorted him up the steps of the helicopter. The older Sikorsky unit might have served as Marine One in the past, but was now assigned to ferry missions of lower level personnel to and from the White House to Andrews or Camp David.