The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival) (46 page)

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Authors: Barbara C. Griffin Billig,Bett Pohnka

BOOK: The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival)
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You surely do, Mr. Yeager,

answered the Senator.

Our intention is to do a complete and thorough study of the destructive force of the White Water facility and what caused the plant

s disintegration, if possible. We

re also delving into that plant and its parent company, West State Utility, and into the handling of radioactive fuels, their wastes, whether safeguards are sufficient or not, and the relationships to other plants already in existence. Ultimately, our findings will pave the way for formal hearings on the advisability of nuclear installations as sources of power for civilian use.


That

s an impressive undertaking, Senator,

Cecil remarked.


Yes. And one that I

m sure you will agree is absolutely necessary, that should have been done, in part, years ago. Now, if there are no further questions, perhaps Miss Haydn could arrange an appointment for us to meet again, this time on an individual basis.

Sara found the little statesman strikingly individual in his attack on the problem of White Water. She remembered that Ben had met the Senator the very day before the explosion and had thought him bothersome, a bit too inquisitive for his, Ben

s, taste. How odd that Ben had felt that about the man. She found his businesslike manner inspiring, and his approach to people, perhaps short on patience, but refreshing, nevertheless.


Will we be required to be here long, Senator, more than several days?

asked Althea in her well-modulated voice.


Oh, I wouldn

t think so, Miss Carr. Generally, you

ll respond to our questions and add anything you wish, and that

s it. Finished,

he answered.

Thank you very much, all of you. Uh, Mrs. Harrington, I

d appreciate your remaining with me for a few minutes, if it

s convenient. I

m most eager to hear your comments.

Relieved that the Senator had wanted nothing more than to meet them and establish appointments for personal conferences, the others quickly prepared to leave.

Anxious to assist, Cecil slipped the coat around Althea

s shoulders, then solicitously held the pair of crutches while she carefully got to her feet and fitted her arms over them. Once all was in order, the two slowly made their way out of the chamber.

The Senator and Sara had watched quietly at the ministrations to Althea. When at last the couple had left, following the Warings, McCauley swiveled his chair around to Sara.

Mrs. Harrington, you won

t object to having our conversation  recorded, will you?

Sara replied gracefully,

Not in the least, Senator.


Good,

he answered, as he pushed a button under the edge of the table. An electronic apparatus containing a small recorder was ejected from underneath.

Re-playing occasionally reveals certain things that even the best secretary misses. Are you comfortable?

he asked.

‘‘
Yes. Quite.
’’


More coffee?

Sara nodded to him.

Yes, thank you. Black.

With the cups filled, the Senator punched a tiny lever on the machine and the reel began turning. He was commiserative when he spoke.

Your experience was traumatic, it would have had to be, Mrs. Harrington. Do you have plans for returning to the west coast, to your home?


No. There would be no point, not now,

answered Sara.

Although I may be compelled to make one trip concerning the disposition of my house.


Yes. I

ve heard that there are enormous losses in personal and real property sustained by residents of the area.

Sara inclined her head in agreement with him.

There

s no demand for homes around there. People are scared of the area now. They don

t want to be associated with it.


Well, long-term radiation is a powerful factor—it

ll destroy the tourist industry in the area for years. But worse than that is the fate of that whole section of the state.

He abruptly changed the subject.

Mrs. Harrington, did your husband ever indicate, by any means, that safety controls at White Water were inadequate?

He looked straight at her as he spoke.

She had been expecting this, for what else could the Senator want from her?

Ben was a believer, Senator McCauley. By that I mean that he had confidence in nuclear reactors. He believed that they were the answer to the energy problem for all industrialized nations.


Did he never have doubts, though, about the total safety of such a potentially dangerous device?

he asked, still watching her.

She traced the outline of the base of the cup as she considered the question.

May I offer an opinion?

she finally asked.

The Senator replied,

Of course,

and leaned back in his chair.


My husband was highly skilled at his work. He was a brilliant man, Senator. Yet, because of his dedication, his devotion, to the prospects of nuclear power, he was confined to a relatively narrow channel in his thinking. It is my belief that he never allowed himself to consider alternatives that arose whenever scientists discussed the pros and cons of nuclear power facilities. I also doubt that he ever lent any degree of credence to the theorized dangers and hazards of a severe nuclear leak, he was so convinced science had perfected the process.

She directed her eyes at him, unwavering.


Those hazards are no longer in theory, Mrs. Harrington.


No, of course they are very real. But there had been leaks of radiation from nuclear installations before White Water, only not on this scale, of course,

she added.

The Senator had listened intently as she talked.

Yes, unfortunately we can

t seem to profit from small accidents—the lessons are only learned after we

ve been hurt. And yet, Mr. Harrington must have appreciated the dangers of radiation—with his formal training, he

d have to have been aware of the deadliness of such a thing when uncontrolled. Don

t you agree, Mrs. Harrington?

Sara replied,

Oh, I

m positive he understood that, but he had such blind confidence in technology that he thought it had attained a level of supreme excellence, that it had truly eliminated all possibilities of mechanical and human error.


Humph. Sounds as though Mr. Harrington figured there was very little else to be learned, that the summit had been reached.


Or perhaps he had simply committed himself to one way of thinking and stayed loyal to that cause,

she said in defense of her husband. She thought the Senator very brusque in his questioning.


That

s very risky when a man is focused in one direction to the extent of blocking out all other views, Mrs. Harrington. Particularly in scientists,

stated McCauley flatly, almost mocking.

Sara tugged at her coat, fastening it closer to her body. It was an act that was performed without conscious thought, when one feels himself threatened, or inspected too carefully.


Your husband survived three days after the blast. He managed to return to his home without any assistance, any aid. He was an extraordinary man, an extremely intelligent man. He must have had some inkling as to the cause of the disaster.


As I said, my husband never expected that sort of thing to happen, Senator. You must remember that Ben was desperately ill by the time he reached home. We spoke of the accident only once, and for much of the remainder of his days he was incoherent and in agony,

answered Sara, recalling Ben

s terrible moans and the broken limb.


Yes. Well, it is regrettable that any evidence of the cause of the disaster was totally destroyed with the explosion. Our men in the field have found precious little to help answer our questions,

remarked the Senator.

Aware that her responses, while perhaps not very helpful, had been given readily, Sara felt inclined to ask a question of her own. Senator McCauley and Senator Jackson had caused some degree of concern to Ben. She recalled the visit by the politicians only the day before the destruction of White Water. She interjected,

Ben mentioned having met you at White Water, Senator McCauley. Just prior to the accident. At the time he believed that your purpose in being there was at the request of an environmental group. Was he correct?

She knew she may have breached political ethics and was guilty of being an inquisitive woman, but the presence of the politician had caused her husband some concern.

The Senator checked the burnished sheen on his well manicured nails. It was not his practice to confide in people, to inform them of his reasons for actions he had taken. Yet, this was a gracious woman who sat across from him. She could easily have declined his request to come to Washington and tell her story. She deserved the truth.

Mrs. Harrington, despite what your husband may have thought, Senator Jackson and I were at White Water at the invitation of the president of West State Utility Company. I believe that it was the president

s intention to publicize our tour of the facility—after it was made, of course. We went to White Water out of curiosity, and nothing more.


I see,

said Sara with unexplained relief.

Senator McCauley glanced at his watch, then shut off the recorder. Since the investigation had begun he had been a busy man.

Mrs. Harrington, I appreciate your cooperation and your patience. We will discuss this again, but not today. I have an important meeting with the president of West State Utility Company and I

m most anxious to hear some responses from that gentleman.

Indeed, his eagerness to talk with Sara had delayed him.

Sara retrieved her purse from the floor.

I

m afraid I haven

t been very informative, Senator. Believe me, I

d like nothing better than being able to relate the causes for White Water.

A flicker of a smile passed over his face as he shook her hand.

You have been helpful, Mrs. Harrington. Now, Miss Haydn will phone a cab for you.

 

Senator McCauley

s chauffeur steered the limousine into the circular driveway where he brought it to a smooth halt before the brownstone house. Inside, Sara fastened the warm fur coat at the throat, and stepped out. This was what she had dreaded, this being dragged out into society before she was ready, before she was prepared to re-enter the life of a single woman.

She had done battle with her conscience over whether or not she would attend this dinner given by the Senator. And it was not until her first night in Washington that she decided to accept the invitation. The affair was given in honor of those persons testifying from the Los Angeles area, but it would have been easy to refuse. After all, she was in mourning. Instead, she had gone to an exclusive shop in the city and bought a dress.

Once she was in the foyer, a maid took the mink from her shoulders. She was met by her hostess and led into the drawing room. She was the last guest to arrive for the gathering of some twenty politicians, their wives, and her new acquaintances from the west coast.

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