The jeep screeched to a halt. The sergeant loved it. He was impressed by the surprised faces of the girls from Minnesota. Unfortunately, he wasn't in Minnesota; there were no girls. He was standing in front of a nondescript bungalow. One of many similar ones on the island. The engineers had built it months ago for the convenience of their personnel.
"Major Anderson—we have to go.
" "Yes, I know, Sergeant."
He had been riding with Anderson for a week, ever since they sent him from Hawaii. He drove here and there without saying a word. He had the opportunity to see the headquarters and all the island's major facilities. Not bad service for the times.
It was starting to dawn. It was amazing how quickly light gets in the tropics. The driver turned off the headlights, and they both admired the view from the beaten track winding up the mountainside. The engineers had done an incredible job getting it operational so quickly. The wounds visible in the surrounding jungle spoke volumes about what had happened. Only the ocean was pristine blue, and the mere sight of it filled them with peace. The road was beginning to drag. The beasts' lair was almost an hour's drive. The beasts were known to explode, so no one of importance lived near their lair. Yesterday, three had erupted. Flames were visible all over the island, even on the other side of the rocks. This was to be expected. The remaining beasts took flight, returning in the evening. Some landed with proud wings spread in victory, others, wounded and maimed, clung to the safety of the ground. And so, tomorrow, they would begin their hunt anew.
The corporal at the gate gave a formal salute and raised the barrier. They entered the military compound. Moving along a well-marked path, they headed for the lair of one of the beasts. Several people were already waiting for Anderson. He greeted them perfunctorily and approached the massive body. He was the best expert in his field. He could laugh at himself for saying he was the best; because he was the only one. For the first time, the beast was about to give birth, so he had the privilege of being the first. Everything had to be perfect. He had to check everything. Tomorrow would be the birth, and he would be there to do it all over again. Before disappearing inside, he looked up at the sky again and thought, "What a beautiful summer day."
He had no time to think. He immediately got to work. He unscrewed everything. He checked every screw, inspected every wire. Every piece of equipment had to be functional. There, in the air, there would be no time for repetition. One of the screwdrivers slipped from his hand, and he had to tighten some of the screws with his own fingers. He knew how to improvise, but after a few hours of work, his hands began to bleed. He wrapped them in pieces of cloth and continued working. The temperature inside reached 40 degrees Celsius, and despite the soldiers giving him fluids, he felt his lips crack from dehydration.
He didn't stop. All that was left was to put all the equipment back together, go to bed, and wait for tomorrow's delivery. Exhaustion was making itself felt; he felt his work slowing down. Fortunately, just three more screws and he'd be done. He stepped outside. It was starting to get dark. He looked at the general standing nearby and said, "Okay. We can begin."
He'd slept a few hours in one of the complex's buildings. There was no time to return to his temporary home. Wake-up call was scheduled for 3:00 AM. Like the others, he'd donned his uniform. Once airborne, he'd have two more hours of sleep, three less than the rest of the crew. He adjusted the bandages on his injured hands and headed off for the briefing. He was utterly bored. He'd already heard its pompous content, so he didn't share the others' enthusiasm. He simply shook hands with the right people and climbed into the beast. He found a comfortable spot and fell asleep before they were airborne.
He woke up around 6:00 AM. He entered the chamber with the child and began work. This time, the working conditions were completely different. The chamber was around -20 degrees Celsius, so despite his gloves, his hands were numb. He checked all the equipment. All the devices had to function flawlessly; nothing could go wrong. The pain in his injured hands was even more acute than yesterday. He finished half an hour before giving birth. He left the chamber and sat down with the others. They were preparing. When they arrived, they did so. The child fell from the beast's bulging belly and began its own incredibly short life. They could return home in peace.
Mr. Ichi began his daily walk. The war had somehow bypassed his city. As every day, he walked his favorite route. He was no longer young. Once, as an Imperial official, he had walked this way early in the morning. Now, as a retiree, he avoided the morning rush hour and could enjoy the right to walk at any time. He chose late morning or early afternoon. When he reached the bridge, he stopped. He looked up at the sky.
"What a beautiful summer day," he thought.
Then something unexpected happened. Time froze. Mr. Ichi, astonished, began to watch the people frozen in their moment. Even though he was aware he was standing motionless on the bridge, images of his surroundings flashed before his eyes, as if from a slowly rotating camera. When he returned to his starting point, he felt himself floating in space. He knew his soul was leaving his body. Then he began to move rapidly. He couldn't describe what surrounded him in words; it resembled a tunnel, but it wasn't. Despite being an educated man, his vocabulary was too limited to describe his surroundings. Then he materialized. It was hard to call it a sensation, but he could define his current shape. It was round. It resembled a red blood cell. After a moment, he realized the truth: he was an erythrocyte. Beside him were other erythrocytes. Strangely, they, like him, had their own consciousness. Some were still standing beside him on the bridge, others were hiding in the nooks and crannies of the suburbs; some he knew personally, others were complete strangers to him. He felt their thoughts and desires, learned their history. Then he realized he was inside a man named Anderson. He was a military man. He stood on the tarmac, being decorated. Mr. Ichi wanted to know why. He entered the soldier's thoughts. He noticed that his consciousness was in the future. Several hours had passed since he stood on the bridge, and he was far from the country. Then he understood what Anderson had done. He didn't want to be inside this monster. He wanted to get as far away from it as possible. But when he found the exit, the sun burned his soul.
"Major Anderson," said the nurse, looking at the decorations with interest, "please go to the infirmary. This is the first time I've seen such heavy bleeding from a wound as old and minor as the one on your hands. You need to be dressed again.
" "Okay, Nurse."
Anderson walked slowly toward the infirmary. He paused for a moment and turned his head to take one last look at the beast's side, which was inscribed: "Enola Gay."
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