Green Heisenberg Deception

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 979-8-3509-6712-8
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 264 Seiten

Reihe: The Heisenberg Deception

This novel is a work of historical fiction and a science/ethics/thriller that examines why German scientists, led by the great Nobel Prize-winning physicist Werner Heisenberg, failed to develop an atomic bomb for Hitler. Drawing on real historical events and scientific facts, the novel imagines that the Allies undertake a vast deception effort. They soon learn, however, that their lies are challenged by Nazi espionage and shocking scientific developments.

Ronald M. Green, PhD, is the Emeritus Professor for the Study of Ethics and Human Values at Dartmouth College. Over a long career, he has taught and written about issues in science and ethics, notably bioethics. In 'The Heisenberg Deception' he brings ethical insight and imagination to nuclear science and to one of the leading questions of the history of atomic bomb development: Why did the Germans, with all their scientific talent, never develop the bomb?

Autoren/Hrsg.

Green, Ronald M.

Leseproben

Chapter II

Princeton, 25 April 1941

Spring was early that year. The forsythias raised bright yellow blossoms under the setting late afternoon sun as though they were daring the evening chill to do them harm.

The young couple walked arm in arm down a quiet residential street just off the main campus. Dan Wheeler was tall and in his early thirties. His dark hair, free of the hair cream that was the current fashion, parted in the middle and fell in two waves to the left and right side of his face. The sharp angles of his face, the strong chin and blue-green eyes lent him almost film-star good looks. A conservative three-piece gray suit suggested a businessman or lawyer more than a professor. Next to him, Julie Gottlieb was a head shorter, her soft brown hair drawn back in a small bun. Although she was in her late twenties, with delicate features, fair skin and light blue eyes, her beige cardigan, pleated skirt, and penny loafers gave the impression of an undergraduate.

The couple paused in the shadow of a hedge. He pulled her toward him, stoking her hair. After a brief furtive embrace and kiss, they resumed walking.

“With your thesis and its defense, I don’t get to see much of you these days,” he said.

“And I don’t get to see much of you either, Mr. District Attorney.”

“Deputy Attorney General for the First New York District,” he corrected.

“Whatever you say, Dan. I don’t understand these titles very well. But I’m thrilled to have you here today. My defense will be over in a few weeks, and then I’ll have the whole summer free to relax and see you. But right now we’d better hurry or we’ll be late for the Ladenburg’s dinner.”

“No we won’t,” Wheeler protested. “Faculty dinner parties never start on time. You told me yourself that Ladenburg was tied up all afternoon in meetings with the visiting VIPs. I wouldn’t be surprised if no one makes it to dinner on time.”

Julie realized how important the VIP’s were. They were the leaders of the refugee community of European nuclear physics and were at Princeton’s Institute for Advanced Studies for a daylong symposium. Albert Einstein was in residence and several lesser-known but brilliant physicists were visiting for the day. “How odd,” Julie reflected as they walked. “I always feel a little strange being the only female in this program, but as a Jew I probably have more in common with these émigrés from Europe than my Princeton teachers do. We share a reason for being especially terrified at what’s happening there.”

Julie had been proud to be one of the few grad students asked to participate in the morning’s activities: a seminar on neutron absorption in heavy elements. But after lunch, the senior members of the faculty had gone off alone with the “distinguished guests.” Julie had taken advantage of the free time to catch up on some journal reading and then met Dan at the late train from New York. The two had met at an alumni event and had been seeing one another for almost a year. She looked forward now to introducing him to her professors.

They weren’t late for dinner. About twenty people, faculty members, their spouses and the guests had already arrived and the cocktail hour was still in full swing. People stood or sat in small groups around tables filled with hors d’oeuvres, sipping from glasses of wine or bottles of beer.

Getting two glasses of wine for themselves from a kitchen table crowded with bottles and buckets of ice, Julie and Dan worked their way back to the living room. They found two empty chairs in a small group of guests facing one of the house’s large bay windows. Seated opposite on the padded window bench and engaged in an intense exchange were two men. One was short, heavy-set, almost cherubic, and about forty years of age. He wore a dark blue suit, a white shirt, and a polka dotted blue bow tie. His wire-rimmed glasses framed deep brown, almost black eyes. Tightly curled dark hair receded back from his high forehead like bushes at the edge of a cliff. The thinner man to his left wore an open-collared soft blue shirt beneath a tweed sport coat that was almost the same tone of gray as his wispy hair.

Not wanting to interrupt the two men, Julie and Dan settled quietly into their chairs. She whispered into Dan’s ear. “The one on the left in the suit is Leo Szilard. A genius. The other is Lem Johnson, one of my favorite professors.”

As Szilard spoke, his wide brow was furrowed. His central European accent lent weight to his words.

“Russia will be next,” he said. “After that, who can stop him?”

The thinner man turned slightly in his seat and looked toward the speaker. “Why are you so sure that he’ll attack Russia?”

“Because that’s his principal goal; his prime objective. Read Mein Kampf. He only made this vicious pact with Stalin to buy time.”

“Then he’ll be defeated in Russia, as everyone was before him,” Johnson insisted.

“Maybe he will. Maybe he won’t,” Szilard replied. He has all the wealth of Europe at hand. What’s more, his scientists and technicians are already working on a uranium bomb. If they succeed and give Hitler this weapon, no one will stop him—not even the United States.”

Szilard’s remark briefly halted the exchange. The subject of atomic bombs was on everyone’s mind. Among the VIPs were physicists whose work had contributed to the discovery of atomic fission in Germany two years before and who had since then scoured every scientific report on uranium research for news of where the Germans were taking their lead. Julie had been excluded from the private afternoon conversations with Szilard and others, but she knew that one of the subjects under discussion was the most recent research on uranium fission at Fermi’s laboratory at Columbia University. Fission meant atom bombs.

Julie shuddered and then in a louder voice exclaimed, “Hitler with a uranium bomb. That’s a nightmare.”

“But a real one,” said Szilard, turning to her. “You’re very lovely, my dear, and I don’t want to scare you, but Hitler has the materiel—uranium oar plundered from the Czechoslovak mines. He has the scientists and the technicians. Otto Hahn, the greatest radiochemist in the world and the discoverer of uranium fission. Werner Heisenberg, Nobel Prize winner, a brilliant theorist who could do the bomb physics. I worked with Heisenberg in Berlin years ago, and I know how talented he is. We all have reason to be terrified.”

Szilard pushed back against the bench, leaned forward, and spoke directly to Julie. “Hitler also has the time. The Germans have been working on this problem since Hahn discovered fission over two years ago. Since the start of the war, they’ve published nothing. This tells to me that the military are in control. Hitler may slow the effort until he’s swallowed large parts of Russia. But once those resources are under his control, then London could see a terrible new blitz. So, too, New York—or even Princeton.”

As the small group fell into silence, Julie reached for Dan’s hand.

Many of the people at the dinner party had drifted out when Rudolf Ladenburg, the host and Julie’s thesis advisor, approached the young couple. Ladenburg was a tall gaunt individual in his late fifties who always seemed a bit lost in the heavy wool suits he wore. Julie knew that after emigrating from Germany just before the Nazis took power Ladenburg became the principal coordinator for job placement of exiled physicists in the United States.

“Julie, please stay. There’s someone I want you to meet. Mr. Wheeler, you too. We need someone with a governmental perspective. An old friend of mine has come here to talk to us.”

Ladenburg gestured toward a slight man standing in the nearby doorway of the dining room, and urged him over. He looked as though he could be in his late fifties, but his thin gray hair, hollow cheeks, and papery skin added at least a decade to his age.

“Julie Gottlieb, Dan Wheeler, let me introduce you to my dear friend, Dr. Fritz Reiche. Fritz and I have known each other for decades, in fact since his earliest student years in Breslau. Fritz, Julie is one of our most brilliant graduate students. She is just finishing her thesis on boron absorption of neutrons. Her friend, Mr. Wheeler, I believe, is an attorney with our government. Is that right, Mr. Wheeler?”

“Yes,” Dan replied. “But as an undergraduate, I majored here in physics. So I feel at home.” Extending his hand, he added, “I’m pleased to meet you, Professor Reiche.”

“And I am pleased to meet both of you,” Reiche replied in a thick German accent. “Unfortunately, I’m no longer a professor. My work with Rudolf was during my last regular university post. Since 1933, I have been among what I believe you call ‘the unemployed.’ There is no place for Jewish scientists in German universities, and no place for ‘Jewish physics.’“

“Jewish physics?” Dan said, puzzled.

“Yes, that’s what the Nazis call research on the atom since Einstein. Even the distinguished Herr Professor Heisenberg, with his impeccable ‘Aryan’ credentials, has not escaped being smeared with this brush. I’m afraid our Nazi friends detest any physics since Newton.”

“Then maybe that will slow down their work on nuclear fission,” Dan offered. “Doesn’t that presume Einstein’s theory?”

Reiche’s eyes...