Deterrence: A Tale of Sex and Violence in Dangerous Times

By Mel Month

In the post cold war era of nuclear proliferation and terrorism, when the threat of nuclear annihilation is closer than it has ever been, conspiracies abound. This is a tale of one of them. In an atmosphere permeated by sex and violence, lovers try to navigate dangerous rapids in their search for fulfillment. Unfortunately for them, the time is out of joint. So, watch the deceptions, watch the betrayals and wonder whether love can endure when tested by circumstance.

The story opens with Stanley Pollard, a writer for a small magazine, coming to understand the peril posed by nuclear weapons in the modern world. Apparently by chance, he becomes involved in what he imagines is a conspiracy against America. Still a vital and virile man, he loves not only his chosen career but also his brilliant and sexy girlfriend, Catherine Buis. They travel and indulge their desires as lovers do. However, all is not as it should be. Stanley is hounded by menacing signs. Violent assassinations seem to follow him and he falls upon a code indicating that an attack is about to take place. Is it all real? What should he do? The plot takes us to New York, Paris, Mont Tremblant and a bunker in New Mexico, evolving toward the inevitable end fate has prepared.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 28, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449062392

Mel Month

Mel Month is a research scientist, management specialist, community organizer, and educator with a PhD in physics and an MBA. In retirement, he realized his lifelong dream to write. He is the author of a technical nonfiction book, and to date, four novels. He resides in Stony Brook, New York.

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PROLOGUE

The Cold War

The hot war over Europe and Japan is over. The A-Bomb is for real. So now what? Groves and Oppenheimer disagree. The general believes that science and the military should maintain their collaboration much as they did while building the bomb. He envisions a future of advancing military technology independent of imminent war. Oppie isn’t happy with that. He sees science as pure and not to be corrupted by military involvement. Understandably, they haven’t much room for negotiation.

In early 1946, Vannevar Bush finalizes his report, commissioned by Roosevelt a couple of years earlier, on the post-war science-government linkage and presents it to Truman. The essential ingredient is to build a system of national laboratories around the country, under the jurisdiction of the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC), with the aim of bringing together these labs with academia and government in a tripartite partnership to further Science and Technology (S&T). At the same time, Groves pushes for and is given the go-ahead to develop a network of military labs, funded by the Defense Department, for classified work to advance weaponry and general war technology. As it happens, for historical reasons, some of the labs overseen by the AEC, like Los Alamos and later Livermore, are permitted to engage in classified work, particularly on nuclear weapons.

So, by the late forties, there is a large array of national laboratories dotting the nation’s landscape from coast to coast. Both men, Groves and Oppenheimer, get what they want, with many labs devoted to classified military S&T and many to open and pure science.

With peace, the great American industrial machine turns its focus from tanks and fighters to automobiles and commercial aviation and from bullets to dishwashers. But Truman’s foresight, together with that of Bush and Groves, calls for maintenance of industrial military technology and companies sprout across the land to coordinate and carry on the production and development of military hardware. The rapid growth of this US power machine is unprecedented, and President Eisenhower, in his 1959 office-leaving speech, warns of the disturbing power of a vast military-industrial complex growing in our midst.

Even as all this postwar activity is going on, in 1949 a singular event takes place, one destined to change the world. The blast at Alamogordo had ushered in the nuclear era, and Hiroshima and Nagasaki paid a tragic price for that human breakthrough. Then, in the fateful year of 1949, the Soviet Union sets off Stalin’s entry into the nuclear club and signals the start of the Cold War.

And that’s only the beginning. Prior to that the Americans were not unified in pursuing what Edward Teller called the Super. But once the Soviets are in the game, the arms race begins in earnest and particularly the race for the Hydrogen-Bomb. But Oppie remains stubborn and even with the race on, he opposes its development. Edward, on the other hand, wants the US to go full speed ahead. However, when Teller and the mathematician Stanislaw Ulam come out with their elegant configuration for the big bomb, even Oppie gets on board, and in 1952, the US sets off the world’s first thermonuclear weapon – an H-Bomb exploded in the Pacific Archipelago of Bikini Atoll, part of the Marshall Islands. It’s an awesome sight. At 15 Megatons, far more powerful than expected.

As for the Russians, they have Andrei Sakharov, a superb team of scientists and engineers augmented by Nazi experts scooped up and taken east after the war, and let’s not forget their intricate espionage network which delivered American secrets from the West well into the fifties. They explode their first thermonuclear device less than a year after the Americans. Then, in 1954, also at their Semipalatinsk Test site in northeast Kazakhstan, they blast a full-fledged Ulam-Teller configured Super. From that point onward, the arms race takes off with a vengeance.

Inventions of more and more powerful H-Bombs are introduced in the East and the West along with deadly and deadlier ballistic missiles. At the same time, each side’s military industrial complex operates at full throttle. In the sixties, the Americans pull ahead in number and variety of missiles. But the decade of the seventies belongs to the Soviets as their stockpiles soar. How utterly odd! Everyone knows in his heart that neither side is really prepared to use these awful weapons – the consequences being too horrendous to contemplate. Yet on they go. It’s as if both are functioning on automatic pilot and neither knows how to stop. Periodically treaties are signed: SALT (arms limitation), START (arms reduction), ABM (anti-ballistic missiles) and NPT (nuclear proliferation). Yes, they may slow the course of production, but they can’t stop the further development and deployment of even more terrible weapons of mass destruction.

CHAPTER 1

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

A Science Superman Reminisces

The old man limps to the couch. His favorite spot. This is where he holds court. Yes, he still gets visits but there are many hours in a day and, for the most part, he sits alone with only his memories to keep him company. The two women who take care of him and the place, an apartment on the top floor of one of the Boulevard’s upper west-side hi-rises, can usually be found fussing about. But that doesn’t disturb him. They go about their business and he immerses himself in thoughts of bygone days. How surprising is the clarity of distant recollections, even those as far back as a quarter of a century. Not so for the days swiftly passing, days that appear to merge one into the other with nothing to distinguish them. Ah, but the old days! Some have regret written all over them, but somehow, looking back as time passes, feelings of regret seem to have washed away and for most have been fully expunged.

This evening he’s expecting a visitor. With eyes shut he listens to the soft sounds around him. How relaxed he is. Then the distinctive steps, audible even on the thick carpet, announce the caller. Edward’s dense bushy eyebrows squeeze and become compact as his lids part. Quickly his searching eyes roam the room, alighting on a figure standing before him. Sitting in a semi-prone position on his leather chaise-longue, he speaks in his deep raspy voice, Eugene! What a coincidence. I was just with you in the midst of my doze-dream and here you are. Why don’t you sit on the couch opposite me while I adjust my position?

I think of you often, dear friend, the caller says wistfully. I’ve wanted to see you for a long time. But you know how one thing or another always seems to get in the way. Then, this afternoon, I determined to do it. I’ve put it off too long and decided that this would be the day. My dear Edward, how have you been?

So, so, comes the reply. Though I find it quite satisfying to sit here reminiscing, I never was a loner. I like the give-and-take, the point-counterpoint, and especially the provocations in a heated debate. But I shouldn’t go on like that. If I know you, you have a reason for being here. So, out with it!

I can’t fool you, can I? Eugene responds, a wide smile appearing on his gaunt, big-boned face. You’re right, I had a reason. I’m worried about the future of our great adopted nation. It occurred to me that you might throw some light on what this new generation has wrought and particularly what our young president is up to. What do you see in your crystal ball, eh?

I’m flattered by your confidence in me, Edward answers. To tell the truth, I tend not to keep up. He looks upward questioningly. How odd! Even though everything reported is in sound bites, I still find I can’t concentrate sufficiently. And the New York Times, forget it. Then his eyes brighten, a smile appears and he says in an ironic tone, "On the other hand, you know me. Even though I’m not fully cognizant of the facts, I’m not at a loss for an opinion. I fear, my dear friend, that our president, whether by design or not, is going to sell us down the river. He’s going to stop the planned Eastern European anti-missile system. It’s hard to understand. He seems to trust our enemies. But we know better. Agreements and treaties, they mean nothing to the communists. It’s been like that for the past half century. Still, our boy wonder is ready to give away any advantage we have. We’ve already thrown away over twenty-five years. If we only listened to Reagan – now there was a man-president as well as a mensch – if we only heeded his warning and call to arms, we wouldn’t be sitting in this awful position where bullying rogue states like Iran and North Korea can now sneeringly thumb their noses at us."

Eugene ponders, allowing these pessimistic words to sink in. The Princeton professor has always been this way – thinking before jumping in. And over time, this instinct to pause has served him well. It’s quiet as both men await Eugene’s reaction. Finally it comes. Since I’ve known you, you’ve been rash in your judgments and I’ll add, somewhat cynical. So I’ll take what you’ve said with a grain of salt. During the eighties, many scientists, I for one, believed that deploying an advanced anti-missile system, particularly a space-based one, was too provocative and would push us dangerously close to the brink. I know. It’s counter-intuitive that deploying a defensive shield is aggressive, but there it is, the strange logic of the nuclear age.

Oh, Eugene, I must tell you this, Edward abruptly interrupts. I saw Oppie the other day. He’s staying in a building similar to mine, one just down the Boulevard. But it wasn’t merely the short distance. No, it was more spontaneous. The urge to make a call on him just came to me. Perhaps I simply wanted to dip my toes in the water to check the temperature. I immediately noticed that his smoking has gotten worse, starting another before the first was done. Anyway, I was nervous, but much to my surprise, he was the perfect host. When I refused his offering of hard liquor, he asked that some lemonade be brought in. Edward suddenly stops and waves his hands in the air. Ah, what am I going on like this for? That’s not at all what surprised me. No, it was the way he spoke of our troubled relationship. He actually admitted being soft on communism in the pre-Khrushchev time. At that moment, he became a little pensive and forgave me for denouncing him as a security risk in his 1954 clearance hearing. Understandably, I was quite taken aback by his forthrightness, and while I was in this vulnerable state, he bluntly asked why I had done it. I stammered some, but I did manage to get out the honest-to-goodness truth. I said that, though I truly believed it, there was some self-interest mixed in. Believe it or not, I explained that it was as if I was removing some of the competition.

Suddenly, Gusta pushes the shoulders of the dozing old man. Wake up! Wake up! You’re getting excited. What shall I do with you? Even in your sleep, you get excited. You know it’s not good for you. She wags her forefinger at him. Look, Mister Great Scientist, it’s time for warm milk and a biscuit. Today I’ve made them with chocolate, just the way you like them.

Stratagems Revisited

Hilda, I’m really hungry this morning, calls out Ronnie, sitting at the head of the dining room table in his plush penthouse high up in one of the east-side Boulevard buildings. Remember? I’m going on an outing a little later – to pay a visit to an old idol of mine.

I’ll put on another 3-minute egg, Mister President Ronald, along with some well-done toast, covered with healthy Omega-3 butter, comes the response from the adjoining kitchen. I was glad to hear it when you mentioned it last night. Activity always lightens your mood.

In a few minutes, Ronnie is staring at the neatly prepared food in front of him, the moist, dark toast and the egg sitting in its cup, the top sliced off perfectly. For an instant, a picture of Nancy appears in his mind’s eye. He’s conflicted, yearning for her, yet at the same time knowing that the will