“I’m not taunting you,” said Finn, switching to Japanese. “I’m merely weighing time against the
fall of cherry blossoms. The world has moved much faster since you saw two dawns rise over
Jornada del Muerto. The bomb may be more merciful than any other choice your nation has.”
Wind hissed through the silence.
“Listen to me.” Finn spoke in English now, his words as plain as the rings of water next to
Kestrel’s bed. “If the uranium is not in my possession before dawn, America will be committed
to invading Japan.”
Finn paused, but Kestrel neither moved nor spoke.
“Japan will fight to the last child, hoping to drive the cost of unconditional surrender so high
that America will accept a lesser peace, one with room for Japanese pride. But that won’t
happen.” He paused momentarily, remembering Okinawa, green jungle and sea and dying
children. “Russia will conquer China on the way to declaring war on Japan. When Japan is
crushed – and that is inevitable – Russia will demand part or all of Japan in payment. At best,
Japan will be like Germany, divided. At worst, Japan will belong to Russia, a subject race with
neither pride nor future.”
Finn waited. Kestrel still did not speak. Wind keened, filling the silence.
“Do you believe Russia is your ally?” asked Finn. “Do you know that Russia has refused to
approach America to sue for peace on Japan’s behalf? Russia doesn’t want the war to end yet.
Russia wants America to invade Japan. If the war continues long enough, Russia will rule the
world.”
“But I’ve seen what the atomic bomb can do!” said Kestrel. He leaned forward, and his voice
was resonant with suppressed emotion. “Japan will be bombed into unconditional surrender.
How is that different from being subjugated by the Russians?”
“If there is an invasion, Japan will surrender to a conquering army. If there is an atomic bomb,
Japan will surrender to the sun – there can be no loss of face in that.”
It was the same thing Kestrel had told his superiors in Japan; but it was a bitter thing to hear on
an enemy’s lips. No man can fight the sun.
“America would occupy Japan,” said Kestrel, feeling anger fight with fever for control of his
body.
“But America won’t insist on destroying Japan. Even now, we’re rebuilding our former enemies
in Europe. What is Russia doing?”
“Perhaps Russia is wiser. What she exterminates now, she won’t have to face in the future.”
Finn smiled narrowly. “I agree. But which country would you rather see defeat Japan? That’s all
that is left to you, Kestrel – a choice of conquerors.”
“Japan signed a Neutrality Pact with the Russians.”
Finn’s laughter was hard, humorless. “You’re not stupid or naive. Don’t pretend to be.” Finn
looked at his watch. “You have three minutes to choose your conqueror.”
“You don’t know what you ask! Have you seen what that bomb can do?”
“I’ve seen Japanese mothers murder their own children rather than surrender. Is the atomic
bomb worse than that?”
Kestrel closed his eyes, fighting to control himself. How could he, one man, choose his country’s
future? What Finn asked of him was impossible. His anger drained into an anguish worse than
any pain he had known before. Yet when he spoke, his voice was calm.
“If I choose Russia as Japan’s conqueror, I suppose you’ll torture me to find out where the
uranium is.” Kestrel contempt was plain in his smile.
“I don’t have time to break you,” said Finn in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll have to kill you.”
“But then you would lose the uranium forever.”
“So would Russia.”
For the first time, Kestrel looked surprised. “Russia?”
“You should have killed Masarek’s woman. She’s here, in Manzanar. And, unlike Japan, Russia
can take that uranium and turn it into a bomb.” Finn’s smile was grim. “You’re not the only one
making choices tonight.”
“A choice of evils,” Kestrel hesitated. Pain seeped into his voice. “That’s not much choice at
all.”
“It’s the only kind men get.” Finn glanced at his watch. “Two minutes.”
Takeo’s Apartment, Manzanar
42 Hours 47 Minutes After Trinity
Ana hesitated in front of the barracks door, torn between the cold wind and her father’s anger.
She pulled open the door.
Vanessa lunged, grabbing Ana’s hair. The silenced gun was like a cold finger laid along Ana’s
neck, seeking a target in the room beyond. Her eyes moved quickly, seeing everything.
At the first sound, Finn had thrown himself aside and reached for his gun. He never heard the
bullet that hit him. A searing, paralyzing pain went through his left shoulder. From the corner of
his eye he saw the gun turn on him. He felt the sinking agony not of fear, but of helplessness. He
gathered himself for a futile lunge.
“Run, Ana!” yelled Kestrel in Japanese as he heaved the water pitcher across the barracks,
ruining Vanessa’s aim.
But Ana could not escape Vanessa’s grip. The Russian’s gun centered on Kestrel rather than on
Finn. “Don’t move!” she commanded.
Ana stared at Finn, then at Kestrel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was behind me.”
“Speak only Japanese to me. That way at least one of our enemies will not understand.”
“What’s he saying?” demanded Vanessa harshly. “Tell him to shut up!”
Finn’s eyes flicked from Kestrel to Vanessa as his hand moved by increments toward the gun in
the small of his back. Vanessa’s blue eyes shifted. The gun muzzle twitched toward him.
“No one leaves Manzanar unless I personally give the OK,” said Finn calmly.
The gun muzzled hesitated.
“There are patrols out on the camp’s perimeter, and the highway is blocked in both directions,”
he added. “Without me, you’re dead.”
The satisfaction he took from his words was clear in his voice. He was not bluffing, and Vanessa
knew it. Her expression became as smooth as a graveyard angel’s. She looked away from Finn,
toward Kestrel.
“Ask him where he hid the uranium,” Vanessa said coldly to Ana. When Ana did not speak
immediately, Vanessa’s fingers dug deeply into Ana’s hair and twisted. “Ask him!”
“What are we going to do?” said Ana in Japanese.
“Say nothing,” answered Kestrel.
“Well?” demanded Vanessa.
“He won’t tell me,” gasped Ana, her face distorted by pain.
“I’ll kill you unless he talks,” said Vanessa. “But once I have the uranium, you’re both free. And
I’ll make sure no one follows you.”
Ana pretended to translate, her voice thin with fear.
Kestrel waited until Ana was silent. His face was expressionless.
“She’ll kill us as soon as she has the uranium.” The flatness of his voice needed no translation.
“Tell him,” said Vanessa, “that I’ve changed my mind. I’ll kill him first, then you.”
Kestrel listened to Ana’s pleas and shook his head. “No, Ana. Not for my life. Not for yours.”
Then fear raced in his blood as he realized that his vulnerability lay in Ana, not in himself.
Vanessa read Kestrel’s answer in Ana’s tears. With a final, cruel twist, she forced Ana to her
knees. She laid the gun muzzle along Ana’s temple and took aim at Kestrel.
“No!” screamed Ana. “I know where it is! Don’t shoot him!”
“Ana!” shouted Kestrel, “No!”
“Where is it?” Vanessa whispered.
“In the desert,” Ana cried out. “We buried it in the desert.” She did not look at Kestrel. “I’ll
take you there. Don’t shoot him! I’ll take you!”
Slowly, Vanessa lifted the gun. “Tell him to get up,” she said. “He’s coming with us.”
“He’s sick,” said Ana. “He can’t – “
Vanessa’s open-handed slap silenced her. “Tell him!” Vanessa gave Finn a cold glance. “You
too. Get up.”
Finn stood, testing the extent of his injury. Beneath the pain, bone and muscles were intact. The
wound was not much worse than a crease. He used the tentative motions of an old man, inviting
Vanessa to underestimate him, trying to get within reach of her white neck.
Wind rattled against the windows, making hollow fluttering sounds, like a bird beating against a
glass cage. Ana stayed on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Finn leaned against the wall, measuring the distance to Vanessa and her soft-voiced pistol. Too
far. She was good at what she did. He looked at Kestrel, wondering if he had made his choice
yet; and if so, which conqueror he had chosen.
“Turn around,” said Vanessa to Finn. “Put your hands on the wall. Quickly!”
Finn turned, but not quickly. Vanessa had only the single, black-and-white choice – kill Finn or
let him live. He had all the thousand gray choices in between.
The silencer rested at the base of Finn’s skull. He stood very still while Vanessa’s free hand
probed and patted him in a travesty of intimacy. The position was as awkward for her as it was
for him, and almost as dangerous. She had to work very quickly. She found his .45 and his knife
and kicked them across the floor to the far corner of the apartment.
Finn watched the weapons slide away beyond reach. He put them out of his mind. They were
simply tools. Useful, but not necessary. He could kill without them.
Page 145
Ana and Kestrel were also searched. Ana was not armed. Kestrel’s knife went sliding across the
room. Vanessa stepped back, pulled off her silk scarf and threw it to Ana.
“Tie them together, knee to knee. If the scarf comes off, I’ll kill both of them.”
Ana fumbled with the long, narrow scarf, joining Kestrel’s right knee to Finn’s left. As she tied
the last slippery knot, she rested her cheek for an instant against Kestrel’s leg. “I’m sorry,” she
whispered.
Kestrel’s hand brushed Ana’s cheek. When she stood, there were tears on her face and his
fingertips. Without meeting Kestrel’s eyes, she went and opened the outside door.
Manzanar
42 Hours 57 Minutes After Trinity
Finn and Kestrel moved with surprising agility, adjusting to the odd, three-legged gait enforced
by the scarf. Ana led the way to the fence, skirting gardens and chicken coops. Vanessa walked in
the rear, close enough to control them, far enough to be beyond their reach.
Beyond the fence, darkness and silence were complete. No voices called across the barracks
row, no windows radiated squares of light. The wind moaned, powerful and restless, redolent of
sage and desolation.
They were alone in the night, ill at ease in the desert – except for Finn. Like the thousand choices
between life and death, the desert belonged to him.
“Where are the patrols?” Vanessa asked him.
“I don’t know.” Finn smiled. “The purpose of patrols is to be hard to find.”
“If they take us, you’ll be the first to die.”
Finn swung his bound leg forward in time with Kestrel’s movements. They adjusted to their
mutual bond quickly. Beyond the fence, progress was more difficult. Sagebrush and cactus grew
closer together, loose sand clung to their feet, and the moon’s half-smile gave only the illusion of
light.
Suddenly Ana dropped behind a clump of salt cedar. At the same instant, Finn sensed the
movement of a patrolling sentry. He crouched and froze in midstride, afraid that Vanessa would
kill all of them, leaving the uranium buried in the desert where no one could find it. The outline
of Finn and Kestrel became indistinguishable from the brush. The soldier’passed twenty yards
away, never knowing how close he came to death.
Finn waited, sweating, holding Kestrel immobile, until the sentry’s footsteps thinned into silence
and wind. He let out his breath and bent over Kestrel, who was working over the knots binding
him to Finn.
“How much further?” asked Finn under his breath as he pulled Kestrel upright. The Japanese
did not answer. The scarf felt looser, but not enough to slip free of. Finn swore silently and
vowed to feel Vanessa’s neck beneath his hands.
Silver-white against the sky, a dead branch stuck up from the opposite edge of a shallow ravine.
Ana hesitated, then descended, sinking ankle deep into small windrows of sand. Kestrel and
Finn slithered after her, staying upright only by the trained reflexes they shared.
Tension crept over Finn’s body, stiffening him, making him clumsy. He forced himself to
breathe deeply, relaxing clenched muscles until he moved freely once more. Beside him in the
backness, Kestrel’s breathing slowed and deepened, as though he were gathering himself for a
great effort.
The climb out of the ravine was accomplished in a three-legged rush. Just over the top, Kestrel
tripped and dragged Finn down. Instinctively, Finn tried to roll clear, but was held by the scarf.
Pain exploded in his shoulder. Grimly, he pushed himself to his hands and knees, grabbing a
fistful of sand as he rose.
“Get up!” hissed Vanessa.
“In thirty steps she’ll kill us,” murmured Kestrel as he struggled to his feet. His tone betrayed
nothing of his thoughts, and the choice he must make very soon.
“Up!”
Finn looked out of the corner of his eye, hoping Vanessa would be within reach. She was not.
Sand ground into his raw shoulder. The would bled, thick and hot. He ignored it. He helped
Kestrel stagger to his feet, steadying both of them with his strength. As they hobbled forward,
Finn counted steps beneath his breath.
“Fifteen. Make up your mind before she does it for you.”
Kestrel heard, but said nothing. Finn smothered his fury; if they spent their energy trying to kill
each other, Vanessa would surely win, “Choose, damn you!” hissed Finn.
Kestrel’s answer was lost in the night wind.
“What’s he saying?” whispered Vanessa.
“His prayers, for all I know,” said Finn, anger in his voice. He yanked Kestrel upright. “He’s out
of his head with fever.” He stopped, hoping Vanessa would come too close. Beside him, Kestrel
waited, poised. Finn did not hear his words to know Kestrel had decided to kill Vanessa before
he tried to kill Finn.
“Hurry up!” Vanessa commanded.
“If you want speed, untie us.”
Vanessa laughed.
Ana walked on very slowly, looking for the dark shapes of branches against the pale blur of the
desert floor. She cast about until she found the other branches Kestrel had used as markers. The
first branch pointed to the base of a huge sagebrush clump a few feet away. Wind gusted coldly-
Ana looked at the base of the sagebrush, but could see no pale curve of metal rim. She knelt,
searching the ground with growing agitation, sand running cold between her frantic fingers until
she raised her hands in despair.
“It’s gone!”
Ana’s cry was too pitiful to be doubted. Vanessa trotted forward, making a wide arc around the
men.
“It’s gone,” said Ana over and over. “Gone gone gone – “
