It took a moment for the full import of his words to sink in. ‘It’s already working?’ said Nina, shocked.
‘You are just in time for a demonstration,’ Mikkelsson replied.
Kang straightened proudly. ‘We have plutonium for two warheads. Now we make three.’
‘Uh-oh,’ muttered Eddie. ‘I just remembered how many warheadless missiles they’ve got parked upstairs.’
Kang issued an order. The technicians went to their stations, two scurrying down a flight of steps to a lower level. A series of confirmations as instruments and readouts were checked, then the lead technician, with a degree of ceremony, pressed a switch. The lights flickered and a low thrumming sound echoed up from the chamber below, rising gradually in pitch and volume.
‘The accelerator is building up power,’ said Mikkelsson, peering at the monitors. ‘When it reaches four teraelectronvolts, the particle beam will be redirected from the main loop down the branch’ — he pointed at the tube with the gap — ‘and into the Crucible. Once the intensity is high enough to trigger a neutron burst, the uranium will be transmuted into plutonium.’
Eddie eyed the system. ‘Should I have brought my lead-lined underpants?’
‘The panels form a radiation shield. After the uranium sphere is in position, the shield will be closed. We are quite safe.’ As he spoke, the two technicians came into view below. They were pushing a trolley, on which sat an orange-sized sphere of a dull grey metal. Despite its small dimensions, it was obvious from the men’s movements that it was extremely heavy. ‘Uranium-238,’ Mikkelsson went on. ‘In itself, useless as nuclear fuel or for nuclear weapons. But it can be converted into plutonium-239. By normal means it would contain a large number of undesirable contaminants, such as plutonium-240.’
‘Which can’t be used to make a bomb, I’m assuming,’ said Nina.
‘Correct. At least not at the Koreans’ current level of development. Plutonium-240 emits a great deal of harmful neutron radiation, with a high risk of a fizzled detonation, or even a premature one.’
‘Premature detonation’s a big problem for some men,’ Eddie quipped.
The Icelander ignored him. ‘But the Crucible achieves an almost total conversion of uranium-238 to supergrade plutonium-239, with practically no impurities. The ancient Atlanteans had the key to literally limitless power, but not the knowledge to use it. Now we have both.’
The technicians used a small crane arm to lift the sphere off the trolley and carefully lower it into the Crucible. Once it was in place, they quickly retreated. The sound of the particle accelerator had now risen to a shrill whine. A large digital readout in the control room was climbing with increasing speed; Nina didn’t know what it was displaying, but some of the staff were paying it close attention.
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.’