Tag: Nuclear War

Lucie Loves Neutrons and the Good Samarium by Thoraiya Dyer

Lucie Loves Neutrons and the Good Samarium by Thoraiya Dyer (Clarkesworld #219, December 2024)1 opens with Izzy (the main character) with her wife Lucie at their house in France:

Izzy simultaneously adores the French farming village, because stepping into her stone-lined cellar feels like stepping back four hundred years, and loathes the village, because her neighbors’ social attitudes feel like stepping back four hundred years.

This chippiness (first seen in an encounter with the estate agent) is most often manifested in the comments about their neighbour Gaston, an old man who runs a nearby vineyard, but Izzy’s concern about this recidivism is dwarfed by other events that are ongoing in Europe:

Both women’s phones had pinged, and they’d pulled out their devices, to see that the yellow nuclear strike threat warning level had been raised to amber alert. Amber was the second highest level. It meant there was credible information to suggest an imminent attack within a certain radius of their location.
Red alert would have meant duck and cover. Dropping face down, putting her hands under her body, and closing her eyes, until the blast wave passed and debris stopped falling. Izzy had waited, as she always did, heart pounding, to see if missiles had actually been launched.

We learn that both of the women work in the field of nuclear science: Izzy works at a new research reactor nearby, making medical radioisotopes, and Lucie works at ESA with neutron tomagraphs. These nuclear occupations will eventually drive the events at the end of the story but, before then, it is mostly a family soap opera where they settle into their new lives in France and an engineer friend called Miron become a sperm donor for the couple’s first child. While this all this is happening a number of other things occur: a colleague struggles to launch thousands of tiny telescopes to create an orbital array; Izzy finds out that most of Lucie’s extended family died of nuclear test radiation poisoning in Tahiti; Lucie discovers an new mineral that may be able to absorb neutrons to form stable superheavy elements; they receive an allocation of Finnish and Polish war refugees as the war worsens; and Lucie’s baby is later born during an amber alert—a traumatising event for both of the women. Their relationship then deteriorates under the stress of having a young baby to look after and another two tactical nukes being dropped five hundred miles away.
The final section sees Miron arrive unexpectedly. He sees the child for the first time (prompting some defensiveness from Lucie), solves Lucie’s colleague’s launch problem by using the cyclotron in an MRI machine, and then, while talking to Lucie about her work, prompts her to reveal her plan to make anti-nuclear bombs using the new mineral she has been researching and superheavy elements she intends to manufacture in Izzy’s reactor.
Subsequently (spoiler), they launch a test vehicle (based on a drone stolen from Gaston); Lucie manufacturers the neutron absorbing element 124; and, finally, they then decide they need someone else to test the device, handing it over to a secretive third party (while making plans to publicise the discovery). This third party turns out to be the Chinese, who televise a demonstration missile launch which is neutralised by the new weapon. The war winds down, at least on a nuclear level, and the refugees leave. The couple’s lives return, more or less, to normal, and Luc goes to school.
As you can probably tell from the synopsis, there are a lot of moving parts in this story, but, for all that, it unfurls in a relatively organic way—if anything, too organically at the beginning: at times it drags and threatens to devolve into a rustic family soap opera. The other weaknesses I thought it had were the hand-wavium science explanations, the unlikely gadgets that are cobbled together, and the Chinese being the ones who receive the device (under the noses of wartime allied intelligence agencies?) Overall though, it works, and it was a pleasant change to read something that develops organically, has an interesting theme (the anti-nuclear weapon), and sounds like it was written in a British voice rather than an American one (I realise the author is Australian, but still). Awful title.
*** (Good). 10,050 words. Story link.

1. This is one of the 2025 Clarkesworld Readers’ Poll novelette/novella finalists.

The Big Flash by Norman Spinrad

The Big Flash by Norman Spinrad (Orbit #5, 1969) opens with a music club manager signing a rock group called The Four Horsemen to perform at his venue. This initial scene displays the story’s entertaining period style:

First, the head honcho, lead guitar and singer, Stony Clarke—blonde shoulder-length hair, eyes like something in a morgue when he took off his steel-rimmed shades, a reputation as a heavy acidhead and the look of a speed-freak behind it. Then Hair, the drummer, dressed like a Hell’s Angel, swastikas and all, a junkie, with fanatic eyes that were a little too close together, making me wonder whether he wore swastikas because he grooved behind the Angel thing or made like an Angel because it let him groove behind the swastika in public. Number three was a cat who called himself Super Spade and wasn’t kidding—he wore earrings, natural hair, a Stokeley Carmichael sweatshirt, and on a thong around his neck a shrunken head that had been whitened with liquid shoe polish. He was the utility infielder: sitar, base, organ, flute, whatever. Number four, who called himself Mr. Jones, was about the creepiest cat I had ever seen in a rock group, and that is saying something. He was their visuals, synthesizer and electronics man. He was at least forty, wore Early Hippy clothes that looked like they had been made by Sy Devore, and was rumored to be some kind of Rand Corporation dropout. There’s no business like show business.

In the next section of the story we hear from a Presidential advisor planning to manipulate US public opinion to accept the use of tactical nuclear weapons in Vietnam (he complacently states, “the risks, while statistically significant, do not exceed an acceptable level”). It then becomes apparent, as the story progresses, that The Four Horsemen, with their disturbing visuals, very dark, death-metal like music (“I stabbed my mother and I mugged my paw. Nailed my sister to the toilet door….”, etc.), and other subliminal effects, are a psychological operation designed to achieve that end. Later, a TV network executive is compelled to screen their show uncut, something that disturbs him and others in the network, not least because the performance climaxes with a song called “The Big Flash” (which ends with the repeated refrain, “Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!”, and film of a nuclear explosion).
The rest of the tale mixes up scenes that involve, variously, military personnel (including two Minutemen missile operators and a Polaris Captain who are increasingly hypnotised by the band), a nuclear test at Yucca Flats, and then, finally, a climactic TV performance. Of course (spoiler), The Four Horsemen’s brain-washing has worked far better than planned, and causes the Minutemen and Polaris crews to launch their ICBMs.
This is an original piece that unusually combines rock music and nuclear weapons into an entertaining if disturbing piece. If I have one minor criticism it is that the final countdown goes on for too long.
***+ (Good to Very Good). 8,200 words. Story link.