“So maybe we’re supposed to go back to those places,” offered Nick.
Johnnie pointed an oversize finger at Mikey. “I ain’t going back nowhere unless it’s where I started. And anyway, it don’t explain the Trinity.”
Jix scratched his whiskers and gave it more thought. “Álamo is Spanish for a kind of tree. . . .”
“So we’re looking for a fat tree?” asked Mikey.
“Perhaps.” Jix went over to one of the guards “¿Dónde hay un álamo gordo?”
The guard shrugged. “Los álamos son todos delgados.”
Suddenly something caught in Nick’s mind with such force, he thought his brain might be ecto-ripped right out of his head. “What did you just say?”
“I just asked him if he knows where—”
But Nick cut Jix off. “Los Alamos . . . Alamogordo! My God, I know what it means. I know exactly what it means!” They all looked at him, waiting, and Nick tried to keep his voice steady. “There’s this town in New Mexico called Alamogordo. It’s kind of famous if you’re a geek, and I think I was one, when I was alive. The thing is, Alamogordo has its own ‘ground zero.’ I imagine it would be like a giant deadspot—perfectly round.”
“Charlie and I saw that!” said Johnnie-O. “We passed right over it. It was weird—full of static and stuff.”
“That’s only two out of three,” Jix pointed out. “It doesn’t explain ‘the Trinity.’”
“Not THE Trinity—just ‘Trinity,’” Nick explained. “That’s the name of the site!”
“You figured it out!” said Mikey, slapping him on the back. “That’s good news, isn’t it?”
Nick swallowed nervously. “Trinity was a military test site.” And as he thought about it, all his remaining chocolate began to harden and crack like fused desert sand. “Mary’s going to the place where they tested the first atomic bomb.”
In her book My Struggle: The Quest for a Perfect World, Mary Hightower writes, “Destiny is the sum of the choices that God knows we’ll make.”
For once, Allie the Outcast doesn’t disagree, but she adds, “Not even Einstein can do that kind of math.”
PART SEVEN
Journada de Muerto
E=MC2
There are about three hundred billion stars to a galaxy, and more than eighty billion galaxies in the known universe. That means that if only one in a million planets can support life, and one in a million of those actually has life, and one in a million of those planets has intelligent life . . . then there are at least one and a half million civilizations out there.
Of course, chances are they’ll never find one another, being so spread out in time and space. Yet all of these civilized worlds have distinct similarities when it comes to the works and wisdom of the living, namely, the “befores” and “afters” that define every intelligent world:
before and after the harnessing of fire
before and after written language
before and after the smelting of iron
But above and beyond all of these is the single most important milestone of all: before and after a world discovers the ability to lower the number of life-sustaining planets by one.
On July 16, 1945, the human race reached the single most important man-made moment in its history. In the Jornada de Muerto—“Journey of Death”—desert, near Alamogordo, New Mexico, mankind discovered the power to end all life on earth. Until that moment, it had only been an idea, a mathematical calculation in the minds of geniuses who could theorize a step beyond the average individual. But on that fateful day, the smartest minds in the world, funded by the wealthiest nation in the world, toward the end of the most devastating war the world had ever known, turned theory into reality.
The first atom bomb, modestly called “The Gadget,” was detonated, in the single greatest moment of earthly invention and destruction, for the power to create always goes hand in hand with the power to destroy. The twenty-kiloton blast firmly put the blade of self-annihilation into the hands of mankind, and from that moment on, nothing on earth would ever be the same.
The bomb was not beloved, but even so, the universe could not ignore such a world-altering event, and so at the very instant The Gadget was dropped from its tower and detonated, the entire blast zone crossed into Everlost, becoming the world’s largest deadspot, perfectly round, and perfectly preserved. And at ground zero, the very center of the deadspot, sat the bomb itself. While its atoms had been shredded in the living world, in Everlost, The Gadget sat a millimeter above the Journey of Death desert, poised at the last microsecond before detonation, waiting at that final moment of infinite possibility.
Waiting, perhaps, for Mary Hightower.
CHAPTER 46