At the moment, Eddie didn’t pry for further information on the theft of
the valuable radioactive isotope. His father had plenty on his mind, as
it was. The main information was in the evening _Globe_, which Eddie
rushed out to get as soon as he heard it plop onto the front porch.
He took the newspaper to his father to read first. After having
finished, Mr. Taylor handed the paper to Eddie and leaned back
thoughtfully in his chair.
“They’ve got it pretty straight, at that,” Mr. Taylor said, “but I’m
afraid this is going to stir up quite a bit of trouble.”
“It wasn’t your fault, was it, Dad?” Eddie defended.
“It was as much mine as anybody’s, son,” his father said. “Probably more
so. After all, I am head of the department. I knew about the shipment.
That should make it my responsibility to see that it was properly
received and placed in our atomic-materials storage vault. But there is
little point in trying to place the blame on anyone. I’m willing to
accept that part of it. The important thing is that we recover that
radioisotope. Not only is it of a secret nature, but it is also
dangerously radioactive if improperly handled.”
“But—but wasn’t it in a safe container?” Eddie asked.
“Of course,” his father said. “There were only two ounces of it in a
fifty-pound lead capsule. As long as it remains in that capsule it’s
safe. As you know, the lead prevents any radiation from escaping. Out of
that capsule, however, those two ounces of radioisotope can be very
dangerous.”
“Fifty pounds,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “That’s a pretty big thing to
steal, isn’t it?”
“Not when it’s lead, son,” his father replied. “Not much bigger than a
two-quart milk bottle, in fact.”
“Even at that, no kid could have taken it,” Eddie said.
“Kid?” His father smiled thinly. “We don’t think it was any kid, Eddie.
Not by a long shot. The whole thing was carefully planned and carefully
carried out. It was not the work of amateurs.”
Eddie read the newspaper account. The small truck from Drake Ridge,
where one of the country’s newest atomic reactors was located, had
arrived earlier than expected at Oceanview College. It had backed up to
the receiving dock where all of the college supplies were delivered.
Since deliveries during vacation months were few, there was no one on
the dock when the truck arrived. A half hour later, when the delivery
was expected, there would have been. The truck’s early arrival had
caught them unprepared.
The driver had left the truck and had gone around the building to the
front office. It had taken him less than five minutes to locate the
receiving-dock foreman. Together, they had returned through the small
warehouse and opened the rear door onto the dock.
During that short time someone had pried open the heavy padlock on the
delivery truck’s rear door and had stolen the fifty-pound lead capsule
containing the radioisotope.
Dusty footprints on the pavement around the rear of the truck indicated
that two men had carried out the theft. A heavy iron pry bar had been
dropped at the rear of the truck after the lock was sprung. It was a
common type used by carpenters. There were no fingerprints or other
identifying marks on it. The footprints were barely visible and of no
help other than to indicate that two men were involved in the crime.
“Dad,” Eddie asked, looking up from the paper, “how could anyone carry
away something weighing fifty pounds without being noticed?”
“Chances are they had their car parked nearby,” his father said. “As you
know, there are no fences or gates around Oceanview College. People come
and go as they please. As a matter of fact, there are always quite a few
automobiles parked around the shipping and receiving building, and
parking space is scarce even during summer sessions. Anyone could park
and wait there unnoticed. Or they could walk around without attracting
any undue attention.”
“But, Dad,” Eddie continued, “how would the men know that the delivery
truck would arrive a half hour early?”
“They wouldn’t,” his father said. “They may have had another plan. The
way things worked out, they didn’t need to use it. The early delivery
and the business of leaving the truck unguarded for a few minutes
probably gave them a better opportunity than they had expected. At
least, they took quick advantage of it.”
“I don’t see what anyone would want with a radioisotope,” Eddie said.
“Maybe they figured there was something else inside of that lead
capsule.”
“That’s unlikely, son,” Mr. Taylor said. “Believe me, it was no common
theft. Nor were the thieves ordinary thieves. That isotope was a new
one. A very secret one. Our job at the college was to conduct various
tests with it in order to find out exactly how it could best be put to
use as a cure for disease, or for sterilizing food, or even as a source
of power.”
“Power?” Eddie said. “Boy, it must have been a strong isotope.” He knew
that the strength of radioisotopes could be controlled largely by the
length of time they were allowed to “cook” in an atomic reactor and soak
up radioactivity.
“We weren’t planning to run a submarine with it,” his father said. “It
wasn’t that strong. Still, it doesn’t take so very much radioactivity to
make two ounces of an isotope quite powerful—and quite deadly. I only
hope whoever stole it knows what he’s doing. However, I’m sure he does.”
“You mean he must have been an atomic scientist himself?” Eddie asked.
“Let’s just say he—or both of them—have enough training in the subject
to know how to handle that isotope safely,” Mr. Taylor said.
“But, Dad,” Eddie wondered, “what could they do with it?”
“They could study it,” his father explained. “At least, they could send
it somewhere to be broken down and studied. Being a new isotope, the
formula is of great value.”
“What do you mean, send it somewhere?” Eddie asked.
“Perhaps to some other country.”
“Then—then you mean whoever stole it were spies!” Eddie exclaimed
breathlessly.
“That’s entirely possible,” his father said. “In fact, it’s the only
logical explanation I can think of. People simply don’t go around
stealing radioactive isotopes without a mighty important reason.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Eddie’s mother called from the kitchen.
During dinner Eddie wasn’t sure just what he was eating. The idea of
spies stealing atomic materials kept building up in his mind. By the
time dessert was finished, he was anxious to talk with someone, yet he
knew he shouldn’t bother his father with any more questions. He asked if
he could go over and visit with Teena for a while.
“Well, you were together most of the day,” his mother said, “but I guess
it’s all right. Be back in about an hour, though.”
It was a balmy evening. On such evenings, he and Teena sometimes walked
along the beach barefoot, collecting sea shells. Today Eddie had no
desire to do that. He ran down the block.
Teena answered his knock.
“Come on in, Eddie,” she invited, seeming surprised to see him. “Mother
and I are just finishing dinner.”
“Oh, I figured you’d be through by now,” Eddie apologized, following her
inside.
“Hello, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross said, but she didn’t seem as cheerful as
usual.
“Good evening, Mrs. Ross,” Eddie said. “I—I hope I’m not making a pest
of myself.” He looked around for Mr. Ross, but Teena’s father apparently
hadn’t arrived home from Acme Aircraft yet. There wasn’t a place set for
him at the table, either.
“You’re never a pest, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross assured him. “I was going to
call your mother in a little while about that newspaper write-up.”
“Oh, you read it?” Eddie said.
“How could anyone miss it?” Teena said. “Right on the front page.”
“I suppose your father is quite concerned over it,” Teena’s mother said.
“Oh, yes,” Eddie affirmed. “He was the one who ordered the isotope.”
“What’s an isotope?” Teena asked.
“I’m not sure I know, either,” Mrs. Ross said. “Maybe we could
understand more of what it’s all about if you could explain what a
radioisotope is, Eddie.”
“Well,” Eddie said slowly, “it’s not easy to explain, but I’ll try. You
know how rare uranium is. There’s not nearly enough of it to fill all
the needs for radioactive materials. Besides, pure uranium is so
powerful and expensive and dangerous to handle that it’s not a very good
idea to try using it in its true form. So they build an atomic reactor
like the one at Drake Ridge.”
“We’ve driven by it,” Mrs. Ross said. “My, it’s a big place.”
“I’ll say,” Eddie agreed. “Of course, only one building holds the
reactor itself. It’s the biggest building near the center.”
“I remember it,” Teena said.
“Well, the reactor is about four stories high,” Eddie went on. “They
call it a uranium ‘pile.’ It’s made up of hundreds and hundreds of
graphite bricks. That’s where they get the name ‘pile’—from brick pile.
Anyway, scattered around in between the bricks are small bits of
uranium. Uranium atoms are radioactive. That is, they keep splitting up
and sending out rays.”
“Why do they do that?” Teena asked.
“It’s just the way nature made uranium, I guess,” Eddie said. “Most
atoms stay in one piece, although they move around lickety-split all of
the time. Uranium atoms not only move around, but they break apart. They
shoot out little particles called neutrons. These neutrons hit other
atoms and split them apart, sending out more neutrons. It’s a regular
chain reaction.”
“I’ve heard of chain reactions,” Mrs. Ross said.
“Well, with all of the splitting up and moving around of the uranium
atoms,” Eddie went on, “an awful lot of heat builds up. If they don’t
control it—well, you’ve seen pictures of atomic-bomb explosions. That’s
a chain reaction out of control.”
“Out of control is right,” Teena said.
“But the atomic piles control the reaction,” Eddie said. “The graphite
bricks keep the splitting-up atoms apart so one neutron won’t go
smashing into other atoms unless they want it to. They have ways of
controlling it so that only as much radiation builds up as they want.
You can even hear the reactor hum as the radioactive rays go tearing
through it. But by careful tending, the scientists keep the atomic
collisions far enough apart so the thing doesn’t blow up.”
“Boy, that sounds dangerous,” Teena said.
“Well, they know just how to do it,” Eddie replied.
“Aren’t the rays dangerous?” Mrs. Ross asked.
“I’ll say they’re dangerous,” Eddie said. “But the whole pile is covered
by a shield of concrete about eight feet thick. That keeps the rays from
getting out and injuring the workmen.”
“Goodness. Eight feet is a lot of cement.”
“It takes a lot to stop radioactive atomic particles,” Eddie explained.
“Especially the gamma rays. They’re the fastest and most dangerous, and
the hardest to stop. Alpha and beta rays are fairly easy to stop. But
the gamma rays are regular high-velocity invisible bullets. They’ll go
right through a stone wall unless it’s plenty thick. Of course, you
can’t see them. Not with even the most powerful microscope in the
world.”
“I wouldn’t want to work around a place where I might get shot at by—by
dangerous rays you can’t even see,” Teena said.
“I would,” Eddie said. “Everyone is carefully protected. They see to
that. Well, anyway, if all of those uranium atoms were shooting
radioactive rays around inside of that pile and doing nothing, there
would be an awful lot of energy going to waste. So the atomic scientists
take certain elements which aren’t radioactive, but can be made
radioactive, and shove small pieces of them into holes drilled in the
pile.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Teena asked.
“They don’t shove them in with their bare hands,” Eddie said, trying not
to show exasperation. “They use long holders to push the small chunks of
material into the holes in the reactor. Then, as those uranium atoms
keep splitting up and shooting particles around inside of the pile, some
of them smack into the chunks of material, and stick there. Most
elements will soak up radiation, just like a sponge soaks up water.”
“My, that’s interesting, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross said.
“I’ve seen them do it,” Eddie said proudly, then added, “from behind a
protective shield, of course. When the material has soaked up enough
radiation, they pull it back out. They say it’s ‘cooked.’”
“You mean it’s hot?” Teena asked.
“It’s hot,” Eddie said, “but not like if it came out of a stove. By hot,
they mean it’s radioactive. If you touched it, or even got near it, you
would get burned, but you probably wouldn’t even know it for a while. It
would be a radiation burn. That’s a kind of burn you don’t feel, but it
destroys your blood cells and tissues, and—well, you’ve had it.”
“So that’s what a radioisotope is,” Mrs. Ross said. “It’s like a sponge.
Only instead of soaking up water, it soaks up radiation.”
“That’s about it,” Eddie said. “My dad says that as more is learned
about the ways to use isotopes, the whole world is going to be improved.
You’ve heard of radiocobalt for curing cancer. Well, that’s an isotope.
They make it by cooking cobalt in an atomic reactor. Oh, there are
hundreds of different isotopes. Like I said, isotopes can be made of
most of the elements. And there are over a hundred elements. Some soak
up a lot of radioactivity, and are strong and dangerous. Others absorb
only a little and are pretty safe to use. Depends, too, on how long they
let them cook in the reactor.”
“What kind was the one stolen from the college today?” Teena asked.
“Dad didn’t say exactly,” Eddie answered, “except he did say that if
whoever took it didn’t know what he was doing and opened up the lead
capsule, it could kill him. Of course, even the mild isotopes are deadly
if they’re not handled right.”
“My goodness, it is a serious matter, isn’t it?” Mrs. Ross said.
Eddie nodded. It was even more serious than its threat of danger to
anyone who handled it carelessly. It was a new isotope—a secret isotope.
His father hadn’t said whether it had been developed for curing things
or for destroying things. But many radioisotopes could do either; it
depended on how they were used. Eddie assumed that anyone who would
stoop to stealing isotopes more than likely would be interested in their
ability to destroy rather than their ability to benefit mankind.
“Well, I certainly do hope everything works out all right,” Teena’s
mother said.
“So do I,” Teena agreed.
Eddie glanced at the kitchen clock. “Oh, boy,” he said, “I’d better be
heading back home. I didn’t mean to come over here and talk so long.”
“Oh, we’re glad you did, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross said. “I’m afraid too few of
us know anything about this atom business.”
“That’s right, Mrs. Ross,” Eddie agreed. “People should talk more and
read more about it. After all, this is an atomic age. We might as well
face it. My father says that in horse-and-buggy days everyone knew how
to feed a horse and grease a wagon wheel. They knew what was needed to
get the work done. But now that atoms are being harnessed to do the
work, not many people even bother to find out what an atom is.”
Mrs. Ross smiled. “I guess you’re right, Eddie,” she said, “but I
wouldn’t quite know how to go about feeding an atom.”
“Or greasing one,” Teena added.
Eddie laughed. “I sure wouldn’t want the job of trying to feed a herd of
them the size of a period,” he said. “Did you know that there are about
three million billion atoms of carbon in a single period printed at the
end of a sentence. That’s how small atoms are.”
“Three million billion is a lot of something,” a man’s voice spoke
behind him. “What are we talking about, Eddie?”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Ross,” Eddie said, turning around and standing up. “I
didn’t hear you come in.”
Teena’s father was a medium-sized man with light-brown hair which was
getting somewhat thin on top. He was usually quite cheerful and full of
fun, but tonight his face seemed unusually drawn and sober. He stepped
to the table, leaned over, and gave both Teena and Mrs. Ross a kiss on
the cheek.
“Eddie was telling us about atoms,” Teena’s mother said. “Did you know
there were three million billion of them in a period?”
“How many in a comma?” Mr. Ross said to Eddie, then added quickly,
“forget it, Eddie. It wasn’t very funny. I—I’m afraid I don’t feel very
funny tonight.”
“Sit down, dear,” Mrs. Ross said. “I’ll warm your dinner. You didn’t
sound very cheerful when you called to say you would be late. How did
everything go at the plant today?”
“Not so good,” Teena’s father said tiredly. “In fact, not good at all.”
Problems. It seemed that everyone had problems, Eddie thought, as he
started to leave.