to know."
Rand followed her then surprised Judith by unzipping his hood and throwing it back across his shoulders. He reached down to his waist and turned off the hissing air supply. His face was flushed and what there was of his hair hung in damp locks alongside his face. "Hate these things," he said conversationally. "It's not going to go off," he added.
"Well, that's a relief." She raised an eyebrow. "So, is this the one?"
"That would be the bad news." Rand frowned. "Let me give it to you from the top."
"Be my guest." Sarcasm was inappropriate, she realized, but the relief-
"I've met this puppy before," said Rand. "It's a B53-Y2. We built a bunch of them in the sixties. It's a free-fall bomb, designed to be hauled around by strategic bomber, and it's not small-the physics package weighs about six thousand pounds. It's an oralloy core, high-purity weapons-grade uranium rather than plutonium, uses lithium deuteride to supply the big bang. We originally made a few hundred, but all but twenty-five were dismantled decades ago. It's basically the same as the warhead on the old Titan-II, designed to level Leningrad in one go. The good news is, it won't go off. The tritium booster looks to be well past its sell-by date and the RDX is thoroughly poisoned by neutron bombardment, so the best you'd get would be a fizzle." He looked pensive. "Of course, what I mean by a fizzle is relative. A B53 that's been properly maintained is good for about nine megatons-this one would probably top off at no more than a quarter megaton or so, maybe half a megaton."
"Half a- " Her knees went weak. She stumbled, caught herself leaning against the nose of the hydrogen bomb, and recoiled violently. A quarter of a megaton? The flash would be visible in New York City: the blast would blow out windows in Providence. "But-"
"Calm down, it's not going to happen. We've already made sure of that." "Oh. Okay." Jesus. If that's the good news- "Funny thing about the timer, though," Rand said meditatively. "Sloppy wiring, dry joints where they soldered it to... well, the battery ran down a long time ago. Judging by the dust it's been there for years." "Timer?"
"Yes." Rand shook himself. "It was on a timer," he explained. "Should have gone off ages ago, taking Boston and most of Cambridge with it. Probably back during the Bush I or Reagan administrations, at a guess. Maybe even earlier."
"Holy, uh, wow."
"Yes, I can see why you might say that." Rand nodded. "And wc are going to have real fun combing the inventory to find out how this puppy managed to wander off the reservation. That's not supposed to happen, although I can hazard some guesses..."
"Huh. Six-did you say it weighs six thousand pounds?" Herz stared at the nuclear weapons engineer.
"Well, of course it does; did you think air-dropped multimegaton hydrogen bombs were small enough to fit in a back pocket? Why do you think we ship them around in B-52s?"
"Uh." She took a deep breath. "And it's a, like, a single unit? You couldn't dismantle it easily?"
"No, I don't think so. We'll need to truck it away intact and examine it for-" "Then we've messed up."
"What makes you say that?" Rand sounded offended.
"Because it's too big. A world-walker can't haul something any larger than they can lift. So it doesn't belong to the Clan."
"Oh," said Rand. He sounded at a loss for words.
"You can say that again." Judith turned to head back to the hole in the wall. "Listen, I've got to go, this isn't Family Trade business anymore, okay? Run it through the normal NIRT channels, I've got to go report to the colonel now. See you around." And with that, she ducked through the hole in the lockup wall, and headed back to the car park. Rich was waiting next to the truck. "Come on," he said, waving at her car.
"What's the story?"
"It's a nuke, but it's not our nuke," Herz said as she started the car. "Oh."
"Yes. Come on, I've got to get back to the office and report to Eric." "Shit."
"Language, please." Judith
Rand followed her then surprised Judith by unzipping his hood and throwing it back across his shoulders. He reached down to his waist and turned off the hissing air supply. His face was flushed and what there was of his hair hung in damp locks alongside his face. "Hate these things," he said conversationally. "It's not going to go off," he added.
"Well, that's a relief." She raised an eyebrow. "So, is this the one?"
"That would be the bad news." Rand frowned. "Let me give it to you from the top."
"Be my guest." Sarcasm was inappropriate, she realized, but the relief-
"I've met this puppy before," said Rand. "It's a B53-Y2. We built a bunch of them in the sixties. It's a free-fall bomb, designed to be hauled around by strategic bomber, and it's not small-the physics package weighs about six thousand pounds. It's an oralloy core, high-purity weapons-grade uranium rather than plutonium, uses lithium deuteride to supply the big bang. We originally made a few hundred, but all but twenty-five were dismantled decades ago. It's basically the same as the warhead on the old Titan-II, designed to level Leningrad in one go. The good news is, it won't go off. The tritium booster looks to be well past its sell-by date and the RDX is thoroughly poisoned by neutron bombardment, so the best you'd get would be a fizzle." He looked pensive. "Of course, what I mean by a fizzle is relative. A B53 that's been properly maintained is good for about nine megatons-this one would probably top off at no more than a quarter megaton or so, maybe half a megaton."
"Half a- " Her knees went weak. She stumbled, caught herself leaning against the nose of the hydrogen bomb, and recoiled violently. A quarter of a megaton? The flash would be visible in New York City: the blast would blow out windows in Providence. "But-"
"Calm down, it's not going to happen. We've already made sure of that." "Oh. Okay." Jesus. If that's the good news- "Funny thing about the timer, though," Rand said meditatively. "Sloppy wiring, dry joints where they soldered it to... well, the battery ran down a long time ago. Judging by the dust it's been there for years." "Timer?"
"Yes." Rand shook himself. "It was on a timer," he explained. "Should have gone off ages ago, taking Boston and most of Cambridge with it. Probably back during the Bush I or Reagan administrations, at a guess. Maybe even earlier."
"Holy, uh, wow."
"Yes, I can see why you might say that." Rand nodded. "And wc are going to have real fun combing the inventory to find out how this puppy managed to wander off the reservation. That's not supposed to happen, although I can hazard some guesses..."
"Huh. Six-did you say it weighs six thousand pounds?" Herz stared at the nuclear weapons engineer.
"Well, of course it does; did you think air-dropped multimegaton hydrogen bombs were small enough to fit in a back pocket? Why do you think we ship them around in B-52s?"
"Uh." She took a deep breath. "And it's a, like, a single unit? You couldn't dismantle it easily?"
"No, I don't think so. We'll need to truck it away intact and examine it for-" "Then we've messed up."
"What makes you say that?" Rand sounded offended.
"Because it's too big. A world-walker can't haul something any larger than they can lift. So it doesn't belong to the Clan."
"Oh," said Rand. He sounded at a loss for words.
"You can say that again." Judith turned to head back to the hole in the wall. "Listen, I've got to go, this isn't Family Trade business anymore, okay? Run it through the normal NIRT channels, I've got to go report to the colonel now. See you around." And with that, she ducked through the hole in the lockup wall, and headed back to the car park. Rich was waiting next to the truck. "Come on," he said, waving at her car.
"What's the story?"
"It's a nuke, but it's not our nuke," Herz said as she started the car. "Oh."
"Yes. Come on, I've got to get back to the office and report to Eric." "Shit."
"Language, please." Judith
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