The Green Glass Sea (31 page)

Dewey stood still, then turned slowly around, trying to take it all in. This place was more wonderful than anything she could have imagined. Sometimes, when Papa had talked about how beautiful math and science were, his voice had sounded just the way she felt now. She knelt down and put her hand flat on the green surface. “Papa helped make this, ” she whispered. She wasn't sure who she was talking to, but it felt right to say it out loud.

After a minute she stood up and walked carefully across the jade-colored ground, looking for one perfect piece to take back with her. The glassy surface was only about half an inch thick, and many of the pieces she picked up were so brittle they crumbled and cracked apart in her hands. One odd, rounded lump had a thin glass casing on the outside that shattered under her fingers like an eggshell, revealing a lump of plain dirt inside. She finally chose a flat piece about the size of her hand spread out.

Dewey was looking closely at a big patch infused with streaks of reddish brown when Dr. Gordon whistled. “Come on back. Now, ” he called.

She caught up with Suze, who had filled her shirttails with pieces of the green glass in all sizes and shapes, and was holding the fabric in both hands.

“It's a good thing you're here too, ” Suze said, gesturing with her head. “No one else would believe this. ”

Dewey didn't say anything, but put her hand on Suze's elbow. They walked back in silence, holding their fragile treasure. At the edge, Dewey stopped and turned around, trying to fold the image into her memory like a photograph. Then she stepped back onto the bare, scorched dirt.

When they got to the car, Dr. Gordon was squatting back on his heels, holding a black box with a round lens like a camera. “Good, ” he said, squinting up at them. “Now hand me each of the pieces you picked up, one by one. ”

Suze pulled a flat piece of pebbled glass out of her shirt pouch. When her father put it in front of the black box, a needle moved over a bit, and the box made a few clicking sounds. He put that piece down by his foot and reached for the next one. It was one of the round eggshell ones, and it made the needle go all the way over. The box clicked like a cicada.

He put it down by his other foot. “That one's too hot to take home, ” he said.

Suze pulled out her next piece. “This one's not so hot, ” she said, laying her hand flat on top of it.

Her mother patted Suze's shoulder. “It's not temperature, sweetie. It's radiation. That's a Geiger counter. ”

“Oh. Right. ” Suze handed the piece to her father.

“You've only got the one?” Dr. Gordon asked Dewey when Suze had emptied her shirttails.

She nodded. “Can I do it?” She pointed to the Geiger counter.

When he agreed, she held the glass in front of the black box. The needle didn't swing too far, or make too many clicks, and to her relief, he said, “That one's fine. ”

Dr. Gordon made Suze leave behind all the eggshell pieces and two with long reddish streaks. He wrapped the rest in newspaper and put them into a shoebox, padded with some more newspaper crumpled up, then put out his hand for Dewey's.

Dewey shook her head. “Can I just hold mine?” She didn't want it to get mixed up with Suze's.

After a glance at Mrs. Gordon, he nodded and tied the shoebox shut with string. He put it in the trunk. Then they took off their shoes and socks and brushed all the dust off.

“Shotgun, ” Suze said.

Her mother made a face. “All right. Because it's your birthday, ” she said. “And only back to Carrizozo. ” She got into the backseat with Dewey.

Suze nodded. She climbed into the front seat and kissed her father on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy. I bet this is the best birthday party I'll ever have. ”

Dewey thought that was probably true. As they drove east, she watched the green shimmer in the desert fade away through the back window. When it had disappeared, Mrs. Gordon curled an arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled into it, closing her eyes and listening to the rhythmic rumble of the car wheels. The comforting weight of her talisman rested in her lap. One last present from Papa, a piece of the beautiful green glass sea.

Back on the paved road again, Suze said, “Can I turn on the radio?”

Dr. Gordon nodded. “Go ahead. I don't think you'll get anything way out here. Maybe El Paso, if you want Mexican music. ” He turned and looked over his shoulder. “But not too loud. I think your mother and Dewey are sleeping. ”

Suze nodded. “Any music would be good. ” The radio popped and crackled with muted static. She was almost to the end of the dial when a man's voice came through, soft but clear: “. . . onto the Japanese city of Hiroshima this morning . . . ” She turned past it to more static and shook her head. “Nothing but war news, ” she said, clicking the radio off. “We can always get that later. ”

IN THE MID-1940s,
neither Los Alamos nor the site known as “Trinity” appeared on any maps. But they were—and are—very real places. And while Dewey and Suze and their families are fictional characters that I've placed into this historic setting, Dorothy McKibbin, Robert Oppenheimer, and Richard Feynman—among many others—were real people, working on what was known as “the Manhattan Project, ” the development of the atomic bomb.

In the sixty years since the end of World War Two, countless books have been written about them and their work. To find out more about the history of nuclear physics, the development of the bomb, or life on “the Hill, ” the following sources are a good place to start.

 

Broder, Bernice.
Tales of Los Alamos: Life on the Mesa 1943-1945
. Los Alamos Historical Society, 1997.

 

Conant, Jennet.
109 East Palace: Robert Oppenheimer and the Secret City of Los Alamos
. Simon & Schuster, 2005.

 

Critical Mass:
America's Race to Build the Atomic Bomb
. Corbis, 1995. (CD-ROM)

 

Fat Man and Little Boy
. Paramount Pictures, 1989. (Film; DVD release: 2004)

 

Mason, Katrina.
Children of Los Alamos: An Oral History of the Town Where the Atomic Age Began
. Twayne Publishers, 1995.

 

Michnovicz, Toni, and Jon Michnovicz.
Los Alamos 1944-1947
. Images of America series, Arcadia Publishing, 2005.

 

Ottaviani, Jim et al.
Fallout. G. T. Labs, 2001
. (Graphic Novel)

 

Rhodes, Richard.
The Making of the Atomic Bomb
. Simon & Schuster, 1995.

NO ONE WRITES
a book in a vacuum.
The Green Glass Sea
was born at a meeting of my Cleveland writing group, the Cajun Sushi Hamsters, where Maureen McHugh, Mary Turzillo, and Geoff Landis (et al. ) gave me comments and critiques on the short story that became its last chapter. My virtual sister, Delia Sherman, read draft after draft as the story turned slowly into a book, and gave me pep talks and sound advice every step of the way. My biological sister, Professor Mary Klages, was very patient on a road trip to New Mexico, driving two hundred miles out of the way so that I could visit the Trinity site in person. Erich Draeger of the University of Arizona very kindly sent me a sample of trinitite, my very own piece of the green glass sea. During the two years I was writing this novel, Karen Joy Fowler, Nalo Hopkinson, Pat Murphy, Eileen Gunn, Michael Swanwick, and Ursula Le Guin gave me comments, encouraging words, and bits of wisdom that continue to help me be a better writer. And I am indebted to dozens of eBay sellers who provided vintage period material—
LIFE
magazines, New Mexico postcards, out-of-print books—that helped bring the 1940s alive for me.

This book would not have been possible without the knowledge and invaluable assistance of the librarians and curators of the Los Alamos Historical Museum, the New Mexico State Library, the Tularosa Basin Historical Society in Alamogordo, and the Cleveland Public Library system. My agent, Michael Bourret helped it find a home, and my favorite redhead, my editor, Sharyn November, gave it the polished form it has today. I am forever grateful.

ELLEN KLAGES
lives in San Francisco, California. Her story “Basement Magic” won the Nebula Award for Best Novelette in 2005. She is the coauthor of four children's science books written for the Exploratorium Museum, which was founded by Frank Oppenheimer. Her short fiction has appeared in
The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction
and SCI FICTION, and has been on the final ballot for the Hugo and Spectrum Awards. She was also a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award, and is a graduate of the Clarion South writing workshop.

Ellen also serves on the Motherboard of the James Tiptree, Jr. Award (
www. tiptree. org
). When she's not writing fiction, she sells old toys on eBay and collects lead civilians.

She is currently working on the sequel to
The Green Glass Sea
, tentatively titled
White Sands, Red Menace
.

Her Web site is
www. ellenklages. com
.