Oh Pure and Radiant Heart, Lydia Millet [top romance novels .txt] 📗

march? They’re in a warehouse about twenty miles into town.

—They’ve been building them for months but we’ve never seen them, said Larry, coming up behind Szilard dangling his car keys. —I’ve spent tens of thousands of bucks on these things. Dr. Fermi! Hey!

—Tomorrow is soon enough for me, said Oppenheimer, and sipped from his own coffee. —Anyway, I have a TV interview this afternoon. Glen is driving me to the studio.

—Soon enough for me too, said Fermi, and nodded sagely.

Bradley’s army did exercises that night, first marching around the block, then turning and moving in elaborate formations in the vacant lot behind the hotel while a drill sergeant barked out orders. Ann watched them from the balcony at the back of the room while Ben ordered room service from a menu of deep-fried foods and Fermi sat at the table near the window, poring over a book. It was a large book depicting birds of all kinds and Fermi turned the pages slowly, scrutinizing each bird as though it was a long-lost relative.

She counted the neat rows and calculated there were about four hundred soldiers, all in camouflage, all with rifles, all stone-faced and rigid as though facing the enemy. From the balcony she could look down on them and pretend their ranks were hers to command.

—You shoulda come with us, man, said Larry, and she heard the door close as Ben let him into the room. —That shit was awesome. These things are fucking huge and they look totally real.

—What looks totally real? she asked, pushing the sliding door open.

—The floats, man!

—Look, an ibis, said Fermi, and held up his open book to a large photograph of a bird with a thin curved bill. —A straw-necked ibis. Threskiornis spinicollis.

—The zucchini sticks and a Caesar salad, no chicken, said Ben on the phone, and hung up.

—This is a roseate spoonbill, said Fermi, and pointed to a graceful bird with pink feathers.

Larry raised an eyebrow. —That thing looks like a freak.

It was still dark when they rose, following Szilard’s schedule. The schedule read 5:00 a.m. Meet in parking lot. Granola bars, water bottles, and hot coffee will be provided. Attire: comfortable jogging shoes or cross-trainers. (Oppenheimer/Fermi: suits, ties, and hats. NB: ORIGINAL @ 1945! Better for the cameras. Makeup artists will be provided on our approach to Washington but BE CLEAN-SHAVEN.) 5:20: Leave for first meeting point in six vans including security.

—I do not wear makeup, grumbled Fermi as Ann tied his tie for him, standing in front of their open hotel room door.

—It’ll just be pancake makeup, I’m sure, said Ann. —You know, like the TV reporters and the newscasters wear.

—They wear makeup? The men?

Outside the door Bradley’s soldiers were posted along the catwalk. He had insisted that the Wackenhut bodyguards come under his jurisdiction for the day and shunted them into menial jobs where they would be invisible. Szilard’s instructions on this point read For the day of the march the Wackenhut guards will be under the command of the Righteous Army. A special corps of Bradley’s men will be assigned to guard S, O and F. O/F: Go to them for any of your security needs and once we exit the vehicles at Meeting Point 1 always keep at least four (4) per physicist within a ten-foot radius. NB You will be able to recognize the special detachment by their yellow armbands. Each of them has sniper training and martial-arts expertise.

Bradley did not approve of the Huts and called them rent-a-cops. In turn they hated him and were humiliated by their demotion.

Ann and Ben and Fermi went down to the parking lot and stood waiting in the dark beside the van, drinking coffee from a thermos. When Szilard rushed over laden with clipboard and portable computer and at least two cell phones he was wearing a baseball cap squashed flat on his head and a T-shirt with his own picture on it.

—I thought your dress code was suit and tie, Leo, said Ben.

—I will be changing en route, said Leo. —Teller died.

—Edward? asked Fermi blankly. —I didn’t know he was still alive.

—Alive and ancient, said Szilard. —My old friend. But as you may know from your reading, Enrico, he became a militarist after the war. After we knew him. Incidentally, he turned Oppie over to the McCarthyites. Biggest hawk physics has ever known.

—Poor Edward, murmured Fermi, and looked over Szilard’s shoulder, unfocused. —Where is Robert?

—The president gave him a Medal of Honor, mostly for loving the bomb.

—Robert?

—Teller.

—I want to see Robert, said Fermi.

—Anyway, he died a few days ago, said Szilard. —Now I regret I didn’t pay him a visit. Anyone want donuts?

The vans pulled into a downtown parking lot as dawn was breaking, beside an array of trucks with their rear doors open. Floats were being assembled under tall floodlights behind a blue nylon barrier erected to block the view.

It was a poor downtown block with winos sleeping in doorways, stains on the sidewalk and litter collecting in the gutters. Piano wire was strung up along the walls of the parking lot.

Fermi was shocked by this and declined to get out of the van.

Beside a folding table, pouring coffee into styrofoam cups and piling donuts on a paper plate, Ann watched Oppenheimer stand under a floodlight in front of the blue screen talking to reporters. Around him paced Bradley’s special corps in their yellow armbands, wires trailing down their necks from their Secret Service earpieces and weapons bulging under their flak jackets.

—Can they do that? she whispered to Ben, leaning back into the van. She handed Fermi his donuts and stepped out again, and Ben clambered down to join her. Back in the van Fermi chewed and stared out the window. —Just have guns in the street in D.C.?

—They all have concealed weapons permits, said Szilard, who was having his makeup done nearby by a makeup artist with long kinky hair.

—How did they swing that? asked Ben.

—I think he looks kind of orange, Darcy, said Larry, edging