“Jenkins gave him a heads-up. After what happened with theChartridge, I don’t think he felt like he had much choice.”
Jenkins was probably right, although I doubted he’d anticipated this level of blowback.
“They’re all really worried that there’s a problem with the reactor,” I said to Bobby.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “But there’s a reason the reactor’s in the center of the sub, with four barriers between it and the ocean. The primary circuit, the containment room, even the hull—they’re all designed to protect those fuel rods from anything that might jar them loose.”
We heard footsteps in the hall, and I looked up in time to seeWilson approaching the infirmary. Thankfully, someone called to him, and he went to see what they wanted.
“So if the reactor’s fine,” I whispered, “what happened to you?”
“During the accident, one of the isolation valves in the primary circuit was compromised.”
“But you said you fix those all the time, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a minor repair. You’ve got to disassemble the valve and reseat it.”
“What went wrong?”
“Nothing extraordinary. Canady loosened the flange, but for some reason, it wasn’t depressurized.”
“Why?”
“No one’s told me. Could be a pressure valve got stuck in the closed position. Or maybe a pressure sensor went bad. In any case, he got a stream of coolant in the face.”
“Fuck,” I said.
“It was bad,” said Bobby.
“What’d you do?”
“Canady was trying to tighten the flange back up, close the seam. But he’d gotten that shit in his eyes and he couldn’t see, so I stepped in to do it for him.”
It was then that I thought of Paul. “Where was RADCON with all this?”
Bobby didn’t say anything right away.
“Aren’t they supposed to be in the room?”
“They’re back and forth,” he said, and I could tell he was weighing his words. “They do what they need to do. But it’s not like they’re doing the repair.”
I wanted to ask whether there was anything specific Paul could have done to prevent this repair from going sideways, but just then Wilson came in to check Bobby’s vitals.
“Should I tell Laura she can come on back?” I asked, testing the waters as I prepared to go.
“Don’t you dare,” said Bobby.
157.
WHEN I EMERGEDfrom the infirmary, lead apron in hand, Laura was hovering in the hallway.
“He’s still saying no,” I said.
“Fuck that,” she said, and took the apron from me. I watched her heave it across her belly and dart into the infirmary and behind the curtain. Bobby protested at first, but then I could hear his quiet sobs, and I thought that—in spite of the risk—she’d probably made the right call.
I wandered down to the wardroom, where Mary Lou was reading an outdated copy ofAll Handsmagazine, and I collapsed into the chair beside her.
“That bad, huh?” she asked.
