The Alchemist
Aug. 21st, 2009 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pyrrhiccomedyTitle: The Alchemist
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pyrrhiccomedy
Rating: PG
Characters: America, Richard Feynman.
Premise: One quiet morning in the New Mexico desert, America becomes a superpower--and something more.
---
White Sands Proving Ground: Socorro, New Mexico. July 16, 1945.
America had never heard of J. Robert Oppenheimer, or the Los Alamos Research Center, or the Manhattan Project, before General Groves called him out of bed at eleven o'clock at night and told him to get to New Mexico as fast as he could.
He had a guess as to what it was this was all about by the time the bus dropped off him and a dozen uneasy soldiers in the middle of the empty pre-dawn desert. He upgraded that guess to 'a pretty sure thing' when some baby-faced kid took him by the arm and introduced himself with, "Hi, are you Alfred Jones? You're with me. I'm Richard Feynman--I'm actually a physicist."
"You don't think I'd believe you?" America grinned.
"Most folks don't," Feynman chirped.
Everyone milled around for a while, and then the two of them got onto a different bus. Feynman explained about 'the device' on the drive out to the test site. There was a lot of stuff about heavy neutrons, and compression detonations, and America didn't understand any of it.
"Look, just make it simple for me," he cut in. "How big an explosion are we talking about?"
Feynman hesitated. "Well, nobody's too sure. That's why we're testing it. We've got a pool going, actually. Some of the guys put money on it not working at all."
"Uh-huh."
"Then, you've got bets that go from two, right up to eighteen kilotons of TNT. That's equivalent yield, obviously."
America blinked. The bus pitched and yawned over the cracked desert peat. "…Eighteen tons--"
"Kilotons," Feynman corrected him. "Then, you've got a couple guys saying that we're gonna blow up the whole state of New Mexico." America inhaled. "I don't know why they bothered to bet, I mean…if they win, it's not like they're gonna be able to collect the money, right?" he snickered.
America gaped at him.
"And then there's one or two bets that we're gonna, uh. Incinerate the, well, the atmosphere, and destroy the entire planet."
America looked down into his hands, and then out the window. Pre-dawn light raised a blue halo around that wide expanse of desert nothing.
"But we've run the numbers plenty of times, and we figure that's really unlikely," Feynman added.
"Oh," America managed. "That's good."
The bus stopped a while later at a small bunker, and everyone got out. One of the scientists checked the radio. New Mexico was cold at four AM, even in July. America stamped his feet and listened to the crunch of parched earth. Most of the other passengers clustered around the radio. America stayed a bit apart, and Feynman stood next to him.
"It seems like there should be more people here," America commented.
"They're mostly up at the other observation bunker. It's closer, only ten miles from the device. We're seventeen miles out."
America grimaced and squinted off into the darkness. "Are we gonna be able to see anything at seventeen miles?"
"If it works?" Feynman grinned. "Oh, yeah."
The radio crackled to life. Everyone tensed. Oppenheimer's voice came over, tinny and small, to let them know that the test had been delayed an hour on account of the weather. Thick cotton clouds hung low in the sky, pregnant and cupped by weak, reflected light. The group lapsed back into fidgeting, pacing, murmuring to each other.
America shifted from foot to foot. "How long have you guys been working on this?"
Feynman scratched the back of his neck. "About three years, I guess. Well, longer than that, really, but we've been living out at Los Alamos for…about a year and a half."
America peered up at the sky. "I never heard about it."
"That was the idea," Feynman agreed.
They waited for a while.
"What is it you do, if I may ask?" Feynman inquired.
"I work for the President."
"Doing what?"
"…It's kinda complicated."
Feynman waved it away. "Forget I asked. We hear a lot of 'it's complicated,' 'I can't really talk about it,' 'that's confidential' around here."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
They waited some more. Feynman offered him a cigarette, and they shared a smoke while they waited for the clouds to be driven off. Dawn quietly ascended, turned the blue desert red. Someone came around with a box full of dark goggles and handed a pair to each of them. America looked at his in consternation. He held them up to his face, lowered them again, turned them around, and tried to work out how he could put them on over his glasses.
Feynman placed a hand on his wrist. "Don't bother. We can just go sit in one of the trucks."
"But I thought--it's to protect your eyes from the light, isn't it?"
"Bright light can't damage your eyes." Feynman nudged his hair out of his face with the back of his hand. "What's dangerous is the UV radiation, and ultraviolet light can't go through glass. We'll watch it through the windshield."
America didn't know about any of that, but Feynman sounded confident, and he was (apparently) a physicist. So he nodded.
"If this thing works, it's going to change everything," America mused after a pause. It was an obvious thing to say, but it felt important to say it, out loud, before it became a matter of history.
Feynman shrugged. "I guess."
America supposed he was more interested in neutrons than politics, which was kind of refreshing, actually. He thought that maybe he should spend more time with scientists.
The radio seared to life, and Oppenheimer's voice piped through again. "We have just begun our one minute countdown."
"Jesus," Feynman swore, and grabbed America by the arm. The nation spun around as Feynman dragged him towards a truck. "You'd think he could give us a little more warning."
America let Feynman push him into the passenger's seat of a military truck. The seat was cold, and America's breath clouded the air. His heart was hammering, all of a sudden. It slammed into his ribs, and he didn't know why. He shut the door--as if they were going somewhere. Feynman, sprawled in the driver's seat, left his door open. They didn't say another word, or exchange another look. Outside the truck, everyone else fumbled for their goggles.
It was almost five thirty in the morning. It was still half-dark. America leaned forward on the dashboard. He wondered if they'd really be able to see--
Able to see--
Light
Light
Light pounded the breath out of his lungs. It was every color--golden, purple, violet, gray, blue, wild and sudden and spilling out all around them. It lit the entire valley; it exposed every peak, crevasse, and ridge of the distant mountain range. It bloomed, and bloomed, and unveiled the world before his eyes, seared open every detail. It was a world without shadows, a world in every color, and he could see every tree--every flake of sand--
America felt something lunge in his chest. Nothing had ever been so beautiful.
And then the sound hit them. It ripped over his ears and cracked the air. He trembled, and gripped the dashboard, and the breath heaved in his lungs. He braced himself into that sound, and rode the crescendo until its mad conclusion.
A cold and ringing silence spread over the desert.
The others started talking, all at once, but America was still. He stared into that fading pillar of smoke and fire.
Something had changed.
He thought, faintly, of alchemy.
He'd never tried it. Alchemy was from before his time. He'd always thought it was a stupid idea; you couldn't turn one thing into something else. That was magic, not science. He couldn't believe that England and France and all of the rest of them had wasted so much time with it.
He looked through the sand-burned windshield and fixed his eyes on that dim horizon. Wild thunder still resounded in his bones.
America thought to himself: I am an alchemist.
I can turn iron--
(I can turn carbon--)
I can turn anything I want--
(Anyone I want--)
...Into gold.
He knew, of course, that the bombs were evil. He also knew that he had to use them. For the war--absolutely, for the war. But...that wasn't all.
Magic had to be performed.
+++
-- The Trinity Test took place at 5:29:45 AM, July 16, 1945, unleashing an explosion equivalent to twenty kilotons of TNT. It was the world's first detonation of a nuclear device, and marked the beginning of the Atomic Age. You can find Richard Feynman's (very readable and entertaining) first hand account of his time spent on the Manhattan Project, and the day of the detonation, here.
+++
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This is a chapter from The Chosen End, a Russia/America collaboration spanning from 1780 to the present day. You can read all of the fics in this story at the Index.
Author:
pyrrhiccomedyRating: PG
Characters: America, Richard Feynman.
Premise: One quiet morning in the New Mexico desert, America becomes a superpower--and something more.
---
White Sands Proving Ground: Socorro, New Mexico. July 16, 1945.
America had never heard of J. Robert Oppenheimer, or the Los Alamos Research Center, or the Manhattan Project, before General Groves called him out of bed at eleven o'clock at night and told him to get to New Mexico as fast as he could.
He had a guess as to what it was this was all about by the time the bus dropped off him and a dozen uneasy soldiers in the middle of the empty pre-dawn desert. He upgraded that guess to 'a pretty sure thing' when some baby-faced kid took him by the arm and introduced himself with, "Hi, are you Alfred Jones? You're with me. I'm Richard Feynman--I'm actually a physicist."
"You don't think I'd believe you?" America grinned.
"Most folks don't," Feynman chirped.
Everyone milled around for a while, and then the two of them got onto a different bus. Feynman explained about 'the device' on the drive out to the test site. There was a lot of stuff about heavy neutrons, and compression detonations, and America didn't understand any of it.
"Look, just make it simple for me," he cut in. "How big an explosion are we talking about?"
Feynman hesitated. "Well, nobody's too sure. That's why we're testing it. We've got a pool going, actually. Some of the guys put money on it not working at all."
"Uh-huh."
"Then, you've got bets that go from two, right up to eighteen kilotons of TNT. That's equivalent yield, obviously."
America blinked. The bus pitched and yawned over the cracked desert peat. "…Eighteen tons--"
"Kilotons," Feynman corrected him. "Then, you've got a couple guys saying that we're gonna blow up the whole state of New Mexico." America inhaled. "I don't know why they bothered to bet, I mean…if they win, it's not like they're gonna be able to collect the money, right?" he snickered.
America gaped at him.
"And then there's one or two bets that we're gonna, uh. Incinerate the, well, the atmosphere, and destroy the entire planet."
America looked down into his hands, and then out the window. Pre-dawn light raised a blue halo around that wide expanse of desert nothing.
"But we've run the numbers plenty of times, and we figure that's really unlikely," Feynman added.
"Oh," America managed. "That's good."
The bus stopped a while later at a small bunker, and everyone got out. One of the scientists checked the radio. New Mexico was cold at four AM, even in July. America stamped his feet and listened to the crunch of parched earth. Most of the other passengers clustered around the radio. America stayed a bit apart, and Feynman stood next to him.
"It seems like there should be more people here," America commented.
"They're mostly up at the other observation bunker. It's closer, only ten miles from the device. We're seventeen miles out."
America grimaced and squinted off into the darkness. "Are we gonna be able to see anything at seventeen miles?"
"If it works?" Feynman grinned. "Oh, yeah."
The radio crackled to life. Everyone tensed. Oppenheimer's voice came over, tinny and small, to let them know that the test had been delayed an hour on account of the weather. Thick cotton clouds hung low in the sky, pregnant and cupped by weak, reflected light. The group lapsed back into fidgeting, pacing, murmuring to each other.
America shifted from foot to foot. "How long have you guys been working on this?"
Feynman scratched the back of his neck. "About three years, I guess. Well, longer than that, really, but we've been living out at Los Alamos for…about a year and a half."
America peered up at the sky. "I never heard about it."
"That was the idea," Feynman agreed.
They waited for a while.
"What is it you do, if I may ask?" Feynman inquired.
"I work for the President."
"Doing what?"
"…It's kinda complicated."
Feynman waved it away. "Forget I asked. We hear a lot of 'it's complicated,' 'I can't really talk about it,' 'that's confidential' around here."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
They waited some more. Feynman offered him a cigarette, and they shared a smoke while they waited for the clouds to be driven off. Dawn quietly ascended, turned the blue desert red. Someone came around with a box full of dark goggles and handed a pair to each of them. America looked at his in consternation. He held them up to his face, lowered them again, turned them around, and tried to work out how he could put them on over his glasses.
Feynman placed a hand on his wrist. "Don't bother. We can just go sit in one of the trucks."
"But I thought--it's to protect your eyes from the light, isn't it?"
"Bright light can't damage your eyes." Feynman nudged his hair out of his face with the back of his hand. "What's dangerous is the UV radiation, and ultraviolet light can't go through glass. We'll watch it through the windshield."
America didn't know about any of that, but Feynman sounded confident, and he was (apparently) a physicist. So he nodded.
"If this thing works, it's going to change everything," America mused after a pause. It was an obvious thing to say, but it felt important to say it, out loud, before it became a matter of history.
Feynman shrugged. "I guess."
America supposed he was more interested in neutrons than politics, which was kind of refreshing, actually. He thought that maybe he should spend more time with scientists.
The radio seared to life, and Oppenheimer's voice piped through again. "We have just begun our one minute countdown."
"Jesus," Feynman swore, and grabbed America by the arm. The nation spun around as Feynman dragged him towards a truck. "You'd think he could give us a little more warning."
America let Feynman push him into the passenger's seat of a military truck. The seat was cold, and America's breath clouded the air. His heart was hammering, all of a sudden. It slammed into his ribs, and he didn't know why. He shut the door--as if they were going somewhere. Feynman, sprawled in the driver's seat, left his door open. They didn't say another word, or exchange another look. Outside the truck, everyone else fumbled for their goggles.
It was almost five thirty in the morning. It was still half-dark. America leaned forward on the dashboard. He wondered if they'd really be able to see--
Able to see--
Light
Light
Light pounded the breath out of his lungs. It was every color--golden, purple, violet, gray, blue, wild and sudden and spilling out all around them. It lit the entire valley; it exposed every peak, crevasse, and ridge of the distant mountain range. It bloomed, and bloomed, and unveiled the world before his eyes, seared open every detail. It was a world without shadows, a world in every color, and he could see every tree--every flake of sand--
America felt something lunge in his chest. Nothing had ever been so beautiful.
And then the sound hit them. It ripped over his ears and cracked the air. He trembled, and gripped the dashboard, and the breath heaved in his lungs. He braced himself into that sound, and rode the crescendo until its mad conclusion.
A cold and ringing silence spread over the desert.
The others started talking, all at once, but America was still. He stared into that fading pillar of smoke and fire.
Something had changed.
He thought, faintly, of alchemy.
He'd never tried it. Alchemy was from before his time. He'd always thought it was a stupid idea; you couldn't turn one thing into something else. That was magic, not science. He couldn't believe that England and France and all of the rest of them had wasted so much time with it.
He looked through the sand-burned windshield and fixed his eyes on that dim horizon. Wild thunder still resounded in his bones.
America thought to himself: I am an alchemist.
I can turn iron--
(I can turn carbon--)
I can turn anything I want--
(Anyone I want--)
...Into gold.
He knew, of course, that the bombs were evil. He also knew that he had to use them. For the war--absolutely, for the war. But...that wasn't all.
Magic had to be performed.
+++
-- The Trinity Test took place at 5:29:45 AM, July 16, 1945, unleashing an explosion equivalent to twenty kilotons of TNT. It was the world's first detonation of a nuclear device, and marked the beginning of the Atomic Age. You can find Richard Feynman's (very readable and entertaining) first hand account of his time spent on the Manhattan Project, and the day of the detonation, here.
+++
This is a chapter from The Chosen End, a Russia/America collaboration spanning from 1780 to the present day. You can read all of the fics in this story at the Index.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 07:51 pm (UTC)Oh, my, this was so good but it was the bombs so it's bad (you get what I mean, right? xD) and I'm so not going to like what's coming next.
Oh, America... *shakes head*
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 08:08 pm (UTC)I will have to admit, I had to do a report on Feynman in my 10th grade physics class. He was pretty cool and I like how you've got his character here.
I also really, really like your descritption of sunrise in New Mexico and the vastness of nothing. That was...you didn't use many words, but I felt like I had a Discovery documentary on in my brain. >.<
The alchemy bit was pretty sweet too. It can't just be me, but nuclear physics=modern alchemy...y/y?
On a note of content, it's going to be interesting to see what Russia says. Hahahaha~a, how I live for angst and violence.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 08:33 pm (UTC)BUT ANYWAY
FFFFFFFF SURELY THIS WAS AWESOME MS. PYR. The whole time I was wondering if you'd include the goggle bit and you did and it was good. That disassociation that professionals can have with the consequences can be a terrifying thing. I'm glad that America remarked on it a little, even if he wasn't super critical of it.
Boys and their games.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 09:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 09:05 pm (UTC)I loved the descriptions, but that last part about alchemy was...evil...I dunno if it is because I pictured him, smiling like a jester and then using the bombs, which could be the 'Hiroshima/Nagasaki' attack or...Ah, *shakes head* things won't be pretty from now on....
Anyway, I'll wait for Russia's part! *Sits and waits for more awesomeness*
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 09:13 pm (UTC)I love you so much for this.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 09:29 pm (UTC)I think I can kind of see that explosion imprinted on my own retinas now.
I read Feynman's log awhile back, I don't remember when or why. It took me until the goggles bit to figure out why I knew his name. Nice job with bringing him in and getting across that rather cavalier attitude towards the whole business. Actually I think you got the general atmosphere of the bomb and initial attitudes towards this down quite well. And I'm not sure whether to be afraid or not that you got me to see beauty and magic in the explosion as opposed to destruction and death. Um. Yeah. Overall, wow.
I haven't read the rest of this yet, but I think I might have to, now.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 09:58 pm (UTC)That was amazing. Only chapter of this I've read of this but I think I'll have to read the rest.
(no subject)
From:There's a mushroom cloud coming next chapter? Is n't there?
Date: 2009-08-21 10:07 pm (UTC)chapter AFTER next, but yeah...
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:13 pm (UTC)Are you a telepath? or have you figured out one of my buttons? Because you have just successfully made me squeal like a rabid fangirl when I read the title. Yeesh, its like the sixth time you've done so.
So this was an an incredibly beautiful yet ominous chapter. You are the queen of descriptions, as usual. Brownie points for identifying one of the major flaws scientists have in relation to the consequences of said research undertaken. And I love what you have done with America here. And a whole cake for you because you have related this to alchemy <3.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 10:46 pm (UTC)He seems so naive and sweet, but all the more dangerous because of it...; A ;
Great job, yet again. = w =b
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-21 11:25 pm (UTC)P.S. And I enjoyed your characterization of Richard Feynman! I didn't really know about him until now, thank you! <333
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 12:14 am (UTC)Wow.
This was great.
Things are going to get heavy now aren't they?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 12:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 02:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 03:55 am (UTC)Amazing as usual! Can't wait for more!
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 06:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 06:44 am (UTC)You have a wonderful ability to capture a moment in time and expand it in to something profound. If that makes any sense at all.
Oh Alfred
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 06:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 07:47 am (UTC)And America, who have never given so much credit to magic, alchemy, things like this, is going to be an alchemist as England and France are never been. Because he found the real power that can change things and people...himself included.
That sentence: -Magic had to be performed- is terrifying! For America, in that brief moment, the atomic bomb is the real philosopher's stone that can change everything he want into something more, more precious. Even the one he love (I imagine that he was thinking of Russia when he said: "I can turn anything I want--(Anyone I want--)...Into gold"). Gold, the thing that ancient alchemist have searched, that old american gold digger have searched for a very long time. In that moment of science triumph, Alfred look at the light as a child, as an ancient alchemist, as an old, gold digger. Because the light is new and more powerful but the longing for power is more old. Old as a nation. And I think about "Love is not all", when Russia notice in America an hidden, dark side that he define "feral". The light of the atomic bomb is going to completely reveal the "dark side" of America. Is the price that Alfred must pay, as an alchemist, for the most beautiful light that he have never seen.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 03:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 05:59 pm (UTC)This was a beautiful moment of...transcendance. Noone's been killed yet so for now there's more wonder than horror though the latter isn't entirely absent. Alchemy was as much a mystical path as a scientific one and some likened the transformation of lead into gold as something taking place within the alchemist as opposed to being directed to externally.
In a way the metamorphosis of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan into the peaceful societies of modern times was the ultimate alchemical transformation but ultimately came from those nations' disillusionment. This is in a way the dark side of optimism and embracing something new.
I loved the banter between America and Feynman. Its a pity that Alfred hadn't met him until now; I can really imagine the two of them just hanging out together. Also loved America's line about how he should spend more time with scientists; seems like a bit of foreshadowing. Will we get a chapter focusing on Russia and Sputnik?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-22 06:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-23 05:34 am (UTC)He couldn't believe that England and France and all of the rest of them had wasted so much time with it.
XD I liked this line...and the ending ♥
(no subject)
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