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“What on earth?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Speedo. “I know what it looks like—but they’re just plastic.”
“Plastic?”
“Yeah, I know. Weird, right? Lots of weird things here.” Then he got a little bit quiet. “But that’s nothing. I’ll show you the weirdest thing of all.”
The plastic personages scattered about the deadspot might have seemed odd if one didn’t know where they came from. The fact is, it was common for many nations to use test dummies to discover the effects of a nuclear blast on the human body. Entire communities were evacuated and test dummies were installed in the homes, and then bombed. The communities were usually old military housing, but sometimes not. There were entire islands in the South Pacific blown to radioactive smithereens, along with the abandoned homes of those who once lived there.
And, of course there were the wartime attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki that not only took things, but people as well. In those two deadly blasts, more than 100,000 souls were instantly sent into the light, bringing a tragic end to a painful war.
. . . But the things consumed by nuclear fission in those cities, as well the things incinerated in every nuclear test ever performed, did not leave the universe entirely. They came here: ground zero of the first cataclysmic blast—the one that made all the others possible, and therefore will forever bear the burden of all things lost.
The Trinity vortex was the repository of nuclear memory.
To Mary, whose lifetime had not included such things as nuclear fission, it was all new. She knew the living world had found extraordinary methods of large-scale destruction, yet she had no idea the extent of it. . . .
. . . But as Speedo led her deeper into the deadspot, Mary began to tingle. The gravity that had pulled her here felt stronger than ever before, and she knew, without ever having to ask, that Speedo was leading her to the center of the Vortex.
“Have a look at this,” Speedo said. They came around one of Speedo’s sorting piles, to reveal a clearing about fifty feet across. In the center was an object hovering just above the sand. To Mary it resembled some sort of metallic jar turned upside down or maybe a child’s top. It was dull green, with wires all over it and it stood more than ten feet high.
“It looks sort of like a space capsule,” said one of her skinjackers.
“We think,” said Speedo, “it’s a bomb. . . .”
“Really? How very interesting.” Mary approached it, with her skinjackers close behind her. The thing looked heavy, it looked complicated.
Then The Pet raised his hand, but this time didn’t wait to be called on. “Uh, Miss Mary . . . I think it might be some kind of nuke.”
“And what is that?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know,” said The Pet.
Mary took a step closer to the object. “Maybe I do.” Then she reached out and touched the surface of the bomb.
Inanimate objects have their own peculiar form of memory. It’s nothing so linear as living memory; it’s more like the sum of the intentions of those who created it. However, when it came to the memory of “The Gadget,” it held in its soulless shell a whole lot more.
The instant Mary touched it, she was flooded with a searing vision of every atomic blast ever created on earth, from here to the Marshall Islands, to Japan, to Siberia, to all the poisoned underground caverns all around the world. The memory of every blast filled her mind, and in that single instant Mary knew! She understood the power, the scope, and the potential. She knew what these silent objects could do and how quickly and how completely they could do it.
She pulled her hand back, her eyes still blinded by the memory of the blasts. It was almost as bright as the light at the end of the tunnel but, oh, so much better! Then, when her vision cleared, she turned to her Afterlights, who were all looking at her, waiting for her. She knew this was the moment she had been waiting for. Her entire existence was leading to this.
She sent out her loving tendrils of light to her skinjackers.
“I need you to find out how many of these devices there are in the living world. Find out where they are and how we can gain access to them. Skinjack anyone you have to.”
“And then what, Miss Mary?” asked The Pet.
She gently touched his face and smiled. “And then we save the world.”
CHAPTER 47
Thunderbird Persuasion
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