Spiral

Liam met Kitano’s gaze. He stared at him for maybe thirty seconds. Then Liam said, “Penicillin.” He saw an involuntary flash of recognition in Kitano’s face. It was quickly gone, replaced by his dead stare.

A tingling ran up Liam’s spine. “You gave your test subjects penicillin, didn’t you?”

Kitano started to speak, stopped, faltered. Kitano’s hand was shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Liam was on his feet. “You damn sure do, you bloody bastard.”

THE ENGINES WERE RUNNING FULL TILT WHEN LIAM MADE IT to the bridge.

Penicillin. That was the difference. The Allies had penicillin. The Japanese did not. Penicillin was a miracle drug because it killed deadly bacteria that led to infections. But after a regimen of penicillin, the human digestive tract was also wiped nearly clean of beneficial bacteria. Yes, it killed off the problematic bacteria and saved your life. But it also wiped out the natural bacteria in you, including the ones that kept fungal invaders at bay. Leaving a person susceptible to fungal invasion. Yeast infections, oral thrush-all were common fungal infections that could flare up after a regimen of penicillin. Without the right gut bacteria, the human body was defenseless.

Defenseless, Liam now understood, to the Uzumaki.

“Tell everyone to stop taking penicillin now,” Liam yelled as he hit the bridge. “The penicillin makes you vulnerable for God knows how long.” Everyone on the bridge was busy, serious, barely acknowledging him. The USS North Dakota was turning away from the Vanguard. All the other ships were doing the same. “What’s going on?” Liam asked. “Is it the goose?”

“No,” Scilla said. “The goose landed on one of the chase ships. A sailor tossed a tarp over it, then beat it to death.” He handed Liam his binoculars. “Look at the stern.”

Liam took the binoculars, caught sight of the mayhem aboard the Vanguard. A few of the sailors were strung up by their necks. Others were beating them with bars of metal. Another was stabbing at the dangling bodies with a bayonet.

“It’s all broken loose. They are completely crazy,” Scilla said. “The captain of the Vanguard was screaming and ranting just before he cut off communications.” Scilla opened the watertight door to the control room. “Willoughby called in the bomber two hours ago. It’ll be here any moment.”

AT FIRST THE PLANE WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A DOT ON the horizon.

“Are we far enough?” Liam heard a sailor ask nervously.

“We’re at five miles,” another said.

The plane grew larger, coming toward them in a perfectly straight line. Then the rumbling, the throaty burble of the props of the B-29 Superfortress.

Liam watched the B-29 pass directly overhead, impossibly high. A second dot appeared below it, separating, pulling away. It fell in a graceful arc, growing larger by the second, a stone tossed from heaven.

Bethe talked while it dropped. “Inside the bomb, a spherical shell of explosives will detonate. It is an implosion device, the explosives launching an inward shock wave, generating tremendous heat and pressure, compressing the plutonium encased inside, creating critical mass. It’s not so complicated, once you understand. Dear God, a talented undergraduate could design one.”

The bomb fell, a spear aimed from above. Just before it hit, a blinding flash. For the fourth time in human history, a nuclear chain reaction sparked into life, multiplied, and spread, vaporizing everything near it, pushing heat and air and dust into the heavens.

KITANO FELT THE PULSE RATTLE THROUGH THE SHIP LIKE A giant hammer blow. He was thrown back, knocking his head hard against the bulkhead. He shook it off, put his focus back where it needed to be. This was his moment. Connor knew Kitano’s secret. He must act now.

His hands were cuffed together, but this was not an impediment. He took three sharp breaths, a Bushido technique to ready a warrior before a crucial act. Then he raised his hands and placed the middle finger of his right hand into his mouth. He set his teeth precisely at the joint, just as he had practiced a hundred times before, on live prisoners. With a sudden violent chomp, he bit through the meat, separating it at the gap between the proximal and medial phalange, as cleanly as when he had practiced with the fingers of prisoners.

The pain was nothing. Kitano was greater than pain.

He spit his finger out on the table, black spots before his eyes.

He focused on it, grabbed the bone and snapped it, using the edge of the table as a wedge. A small brass cylinder, as thin as a twig, protruded outward from the bone.

Kitano was bleeding profusely now. They could be here at any moment. But no matter. He needed just a few seconds more.

He heard a click. The door opened.

THE FIRST THING LIAM SAW WAS BLOOD SPLATTERED IN DROPS on the metal floor. He glanced around the room. It was empty. Where was Kitano? Had he escaped?

Liam stepped inside, and Kitano blindsided him.