Excerpt: Atomic Medium
Or, Rachel Takes a Shower
by G G Collins (Copyright 2016)
Chapter 11
Available at Amazon
After a short drive to Chloe’s much more upscale neighborhood, Rachel parked in front of the garage and walked to the back door. At first she knocked tentatively, but panic flooded her body and she began pounding.
“Chloe! Chloe, are you home?”
“Is that you Rachel?” Chloe asked from inside.
“Of course it’s me. Who else would be screaming out here holding a cat?”
“Come in.” Chloe opened the door. “I’d ask if you are alright, but I can see you’re half-crazed. Sit down, let the pretty girl out and I’ll get her some food and water.” Chloe opened the fridge, took out a new bottle of Evian and poured it into Chile Pod’s bowl—which she had bought just for her—followed by some expensive gourmet cat food.
“I told you not to give her that,” Rachel protested knowing it was futile. “I can’t afford to feed it to her regularly.”
“That’s okay,” Chloe said petting Chile’s head as she lapped up the pricey treat. “She deserves to be spoiled when she visits Auntie Chloe.
“Now, the baby is taken care of, what happened to you?”
Rachel related the incident she experienced minutes ago. From Chile’s first alarm, to Kiyiya’s warning howl, to the frightening man who appeared and threatened her; it all spilled it out.
Chloe was thoughtful for a moment.
“Rachel, there’s one thing I didn’t understand. What was on the pin or cuff link he was wearing? You said it reminded you of something. What was it?”
She went back to the confrontation and searched her mind for what she wanted. When she found it, she wanted to forget it.
“Chloe, it was a swastika!”
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Wait a minute. Remember you said when the two men went through the fluid curtain the room looked older; the big black phone, the vintage clothing?”
“Yes, but what are you getting at?”
“Don’t you see Rachel, it sounds like you’re saying he’s from that era you saw through the stargate.”
“I didn’t say that at all.”
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s exactly what you are saying. If this man belongs in the 1940s, then that room must belong there too.”
“But that could make him a, uh, Nazi?” Rachel didn’t want to deal with that. It was too grim to even consider. She ran her hands through her brown hair pushing the natural waves out of her face.
“It would make him a Nazi,” Chloe echoed. “I’m going to make us hot toddies.”
“I don’t think that will solve anything,” Rachel said hoping she could put off accepting this hypothesis.
“No, it won’t, but maybe it will be less frightening through a nice fuzzy haze.”
“But why would a Nazi from the 1940s materialize here and now?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.” Chloe warmed some water, this time a bottled water called Saint-Géron which her parents shipped her from Paris. They told her the mineral mix was better for women. Rachel didn’t know about that, but it was about $35 a bottle. When hot, she poured it into mugs, added some A. H. Hirsch and squeezed in some fresh lemon juice. Rachel blanched. The amount she paid for the bourbon would make a down payment on the new garage.
“Here you go, get comfy and let’s see what we know.” Chloe set a cup in front of Rachel.
Rachel pushed back into the banco that made a “U” around the kitchen table. The structure was stucco with the traditional rounded walls and a high back. Chloe had added long plush flame-stitched cushions in southwest colors on the seat and back. It was comfy and felt tucked away. A flat screen hung overhead and beautiful native pottery added a decorative, earthy touch to the shelves on the wall.
The friends sipped in companionable silence for a few minutes.
“He told you to stay out of their way,” Chloe said thoughtfully. “Who do you suppose they are and how could you possibly get in their way? In the way of what?”
“I don’t know. I’m writing a story on The Manhattan Project, but that’s as close as I get to WWII and Nazis,” Rachel said. “That was 70 years ago for god’s sake. I’ve no idea if that’s the connection or if there is a connection.
“There is something else,” Rachel said. “It could be significant.”
“And that is?”
Rainbow Man, Former Location of the Manhattan Project Office
“The Manhattan Project Santa Fe office was located in that building now occupied by Rainbow Man.”
“Oh my god,” Chloe sputtered. “How could I have forgotten that!”
“As soon as the word Nazi came up I remembered,” Rachel said. “I’ve been trying to consider other possibilities, but not coming up with any.”
“That’s because there aren’t any,” Chloe said definitively.
“But I still don’t know what it means. Okay, let’s say the big, scary guy is a Nazi and he kind of disappeared inside Rainbow Man, the former Manhattan Project office. So what? What does it have to do with the time of day or the price of gasoline?”
“And why is he threatening you and defacing your office?”
“We don’t know with certainty who graffitied the office. So we really don’t have anything?” Rachel said.
“Oh, we have something, we just don’t know what,” Chloe said stifling a yawn.
“Yeah, time for bed,” Rachel caught the yawn. She finished her toddy and rinsed out the cup.
“Night,” Chloe said. “And don’t worry; the alarm is set, the doors are locked.”
Rachel walked down the hall to the guest bedrooms. She and Chile Pod had a dedicated room of their own. When she entered, there was Chile curled up and fast asleep encircled by pillows. She knew there would be more Evian and luxury cat food in the bathroom, along with an automated litter box. There were toys scattered about and she could see that Chile had already picked out a soft, leopard print ball of fabric. It was lying on the bed next to her. Rachel sighed. Auntie Chloe could make almost any bad day better.
On the bedside table Rachel found her favorite chocolate in a Nambe silver dish. There was a small fridge in the dressing room which she knew would hold bottled water, juices, fruit and power bars. Chloe did her best to keep her healthy despite Rachel’s penchant for green chile cheese burritos. And there was a variety of teas on the counter next to the microwave and a small table cupboard that held cups, glasses, plates, napkins and some stevia. Chloe was trying to get her off sugar too. Even she had to admit that staying with Auntie Chloe was like living on Easy Street.
Chloe had thought of everything. There was a computer and printer/copier/fax on the desk should Rachel need them. A TV and stereo in the sitting area completed the suite’s accessories.
The only thing that bothered her was where in the hell to put all those pillows! Rachel took the larger ones and filled the two chairs, and then arranged the medium-sized ones on the desk until the top was covered. She left a couple of small ones around Chile, as if she could fall off, and began flipping the smallest ones across the room. This activity shortly lost its amusement factor.
She trudged into the bathroom where she came face to face with a new shower. Rachel stopped in her tracks, and evaluated the addition.
It had been installed since her last stay over. She had to admit it was beautiful; glass with wood panels covering the floor. Rachel stripped, placed a cushy bath mat on the floor and stepped inside the enclosure. After failing to find the usual knobs and levers that one used to perform a rather simple task like a shower, she saw there was a control panel.
“Oh no,” she grumbled. “I see Chloe is competing with NASA again.”
Staring at the array of options, she could see tiny pictures. Apparently one had to punch one to get water flowing. However there were also 20 of them—she counted—jets in the front and back of the stall. To further confuse the issue, there was a handheld shower head. She thought this to be the most straightforward way to get clean.
The panel also touted a radio, steam, aromatherapy and something called chromatherapy lighting. “Geez,” Rachel looked at the waterless shower head in her hand. “I just want some fucking water to come out of this thing.” She shook the nozzle. Nothing. She was getting cold.
Consulting the controls again she saw an image that might be water spraying and pushed it. Nothing at first. After a few seconds, steam began filling the stall.
“No, no, no!” She touched it again and tried another. Instantly, she was engulfed in loud music. Electric guitars screeched; drums pounded so hard she could feel the shock waves against her chest. She turned it off. “Dammit! The guy who installed this must have been a sadist!
“Something must turn on the water.” She puzzled over the panel again and chose another icon. Nothing happened. She sniffed. Fragrance was being released from some secret source. She took another whiff. Yes, that was definitely sandalwood. “Ugh, that’s the most suffocating odor.”
“One more time for the team.” She poked another symbol. Suddenly she was deluged with water from overhead. “Oh crap, I didn’t want to get my hair wet,” she moaned. Too late to worry about that now. The tropical rain feature was a real drencher.
Now that she had water it was time to soap up. Luckily, she found a low-tech bar of soap on the built-in shelf. Once the paper covering was off she noticed the strobing effect. Somewhere lights were flashing. All she needed to make this experience complete was disco music.
Rachel looked up and saw the water falling from above was constantly changing color. “Well how do I stop that?”
Please select a color. She was prompted by a voice coming from the entrails of the control panel. Her fingers pressed more buttons. The jets came on full force hitting her body front and back.
Please select a color.
“Holy shit, I don’t want any color.”
Rachel began banging on the panel. If it had been a person, they would have called 9-1-1 to press charges.
Please select a color.
By now, she had soaped most of her body if you didn’t include her back or feet, but if you counted the pulverizing her back had taken, it had probably blasted off even the smallest microorganisms. In her frustration, she had managed to bash her elbows while thrashing around. There would be bruises.
Please select a color.
Was there no “Off” button? Apparently not.
Rachel tried to ignore the infuriating voice and rinsed off. Certainly she had enough water gushing at her from all directions to accomplish that.
Please select a color.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She finally found the right button to turn off the water and the annoying voice stopped. Oddly, no water had ever come from the shower head she originally wanted to use, the one lying on the floor where she dropped it in frustration.
“Well, that was relaxing.” She opened the door and there sat Chile Pod, eyes big as saucers, ears cocked forward looking at Rachel as though she had completely lost her mind. Could a cat look flabbergasted? Yes, this one definitely did.
“Okay, so I didn’t do such a hot job of working the damn thing. So what? I’m mostly clean.” Chile Pod decided her person must be okay and headed back to her warm spot on the bed.
Rachel pulled a towel off the warmer and dried with Egyptian cotton so thick the water beads didn’t penetrate to the other side.
With the stink of sandalwood following her into the dressing room, she thought a tea, having finished her evening ablutions, would be just the thing to relax her. Once ensconced cross-legged on the bed, she opened her notebook with Emma Perkins’ interview. The envelope with the photos fell onto the bedding. She picked them up and absently thumbed through them. And then her heart nearly lodged in her throat.
There was the man; Mister Tall, Blonde and Scary!
Birth of the Atomic Bomb
Jul 27
Posted by G G Collins
I Am Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds – Bhagavad Gita
By GG Collins Copyright 2023
“The beginning of the atomic age began with a pinprick of light so bright it lit up the desert with the power of several midday suns … ” – Atomic Medium
https://tinyurl.com/5n74s59r
When I began writing Atomic Medium I thought the world had forgotten this era. But thanks to a movie called Oppenheimer a new generation is learning about the men and women who developed the bomb. Not with computers and smart phones but with a little thing called a slide rule and human calculators.
By Jack W. Aeby, July 16, 1945, Civilian worker at Los Alamos laboratory, working under the aegis of the Manhattan Project. – This image comes from the Google-hosted LIFE Photo Archive where it is available under the filename 96ad5a9a5c94664e.This tag does not indicate the copyright status of the attached work. A normal copyright tag is still required. See the copyright section in the template documentation for more information., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=140895
I was lucky to have access to photos from the Atomic City of Los Alamos including pictures of the houses where the scientists lived and the mess hall where they ate. I poured over maps of the compound and read books describing the times. Many of my sources are listed below and a full list can be obtained in the bibliography at the end of Atomic Medium.
My characters, reporter Rachel Blackstone and her friend Chloe Valdez, went back in time to 1945 New Mexico. It was here they experienced the first treacherous step into a future of unimaginable weapons.
“They dropped to the ground and held each other. They trembled with terror. Rachel wondered if their hair would burn off or if they were on the verge of incineration.” – Atomic Medium
“Calling it a weapon of mass destruction sounded like an understatement; a news bite, trivial. This was obliteration; one second you were there and the next you were vapor being inhaled by hell’s meteor.” – Atomic Medium
By Trinity_crater.jpg: Federal government of the United Statesderivative work: Bomazi (talk) – Trinity_crater.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12817993
We talk about nuclear weapons today like they have always been here. Each year scientists move the Doomsday Clock a bit closer to midnight. In January 2023 it was moved to 90 seconds before midnight. That’s how close we are to apocalypse.
* * *
Atomic Medium will be priced at .99 cents on July 30, 2023. https://tinyurl.com/5n74s59r
For additional blog posts on this subject: Atomic Bomb Test Successful but Deadly https://tinyurl.com/mu6mdz3v and The Building That Changed the World https://tinyurl.com/22bpr67t
For more reading: Bibliography of Atomic Medium
109 East Palace by Jennet Conant, Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2005.
The Manhattan Project, edited by Cynthia C. Kelly, Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers, Inc., 2007.
The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes, Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 1986 by Rhodes & Rhodes.
A Few Good Women by Evelyn M. Monahan & Rosemary Neidel-Greenlee, Alfred A Knopf, 2010.
The Streets of Santa Fe by Josh Gonze, 2012.
A Spy’s Guide to Santa Fe and Albuquerque by E. B. Held, University of New Mexico Press, 2011.
Manhattan Project Suitcase, Manhattan Days Script, Los Alamos Historical Society, http://www.losalamoshistory.org
Los Alamos National Laboratory/Science Photo Library at www.sciencephoto.com/media
Atomic Heritage Foundation, Profiles at www.atomicheritage.org/bios
Los Alamos National Laboratory, LANL History in Images at www.lanl.gov
Manhattan Project Heritage Preservation Association, Inc., The Otowi Bridge at http://www.mphpa.org
“Manhattan Project spies who met in Santa Fe changed the balance of the world” by Tom Sharpe, The Santa Fe New Mexican, September 27, 2000.
“The Difficulties of Nuclear Containment” by Sam Roberts, The New York Times, September 29, 2014.
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