***
Once they crossed the border into Nevada, Jake was told to slow down to eighty miles an hour. Not sure where he was heading and having never even been to the gambling state before, he obediently listened and trudged on. They slowly made their way onto route 15, heading north.
He was sure that the “testing” was no longer in use – there were even tours conducted in the testing area. He could not figure out where exactly they were going to test the payload carrier but he refrained from asking – if only because he knew Jo would offer an explanation eventually. Everyone looked worse for the wear, even Hootch. They had a few hours of sunlight left still and as far as he knew, only a few more hours to their destination.
Drawn out of out his ruminations by Jo choking in her sleep, which was incredibly amusing, he nudged her awake.
“You were choking in your sleep. It was funny,” Jake said evenly.
“Hah. It was not a funny dream, let me tell you that much, Jakie-poo,” she said between yawns.
Itching to ask her about their destination but not willing to appear desperate, he started talking to the dog to distract himself, and then she began to stretch. She started twisting about and nearly kicked him, but he was so taken by the act. It was even more tortuous than watching the “stir-lick-lick”.
“You know, Jakie-poo, it’s rude to stare... without touching,” she purred. He wanted to slap her again but kept both hands on the wheel. She laughed and reached behind to grab some of their vending machine loot.
“So, any idea about where we’re going, or are you going to wait for me to tell you,” she asked while wrestling with the wrapper of a candy bar.
“I was waiting for you to tell me. And by the way, it’s never rude to stare at someone who’s begging to be stared at. Touching doesn’t interest me, just so you know,” he lied. He knew it was a terrible lie and she would see right through him.
“I’m going to ignore that last statement. As for where we’re going, that’s just too easy. There’s only one thing the American’s know how to do – keep secrets, even if it poisons their people. It’s like feeding a dog medicine, we deceive them by placing the pill in a cheese roll. Hah. We’re going to the famed land, the nuclear testing site, the infamous proooooving grounds,” she crooned mysteriously. “Yes, it was actually called the proving grounds, but they changed the name, pretended that we haven’t done any testing since 2007 and capitalised on the waste land. Tours my ass, we’re still using those grounds!”
“What do you mean we’re still using those grounds?” Jake asked, knowing how to get the best answers out of her, after having spent those weeks learning everything he knew about weapons from her.
“We’ll be testing at Area.... wait for it... 17! Yes, it has never been previously been used for nuclear weapon testing. How cool is that? Virgin land, about to be fucked by a bunker-buster!” she chirped annoyingly.
Jake was proud that he knew what a bunker-buster was. Only he did not know whether it was going to be nuclear or non-nuclear. EPWs (earth-penetrating-weapons) are able to penetrate virtually any bunker, underground facility and other things poor humans may use to protect themselves from the wrath of whichever angry country. He realised that Jo definitely had to be a genius, having been able to design such a crafty, versatile and beautiful pay-load carrier that was, essentially, multi-purpose.
“We’ll be using a non-nuclear bunker-buster, in case you were wondering. The BLU 116. Smart bomb I tell ya, it can penetrate more than three metres of re-enforced concrete. Only we won’t be using the exact same bomb, we’ll be using a juiced version – one with GPS, eh? Cool shit, huh? So now we’re looking at anywhere between four and six metres, with the help of perfect aiming and hypervelocity. Ah, physics turns me on,” Jo said, still purring like a cat.
Jo then turned to the dog and complained about her brilliant thoughts being wasted on someone who stared but did not touch. She fiddled with the transceiver and spewed curses to wake Fallon up. Jake could not help but laugh. He recalled calling her a potty-mouth; it was one of the first few things he had said to her. He actually liked that she was disgustingly rude. He remembered how she had belched once, mid-sentence, intentionally to shut Fallon up. No one wanted to hear about China’s vast experience with war and Sun Tzu.
“Did I ever tell you about the great, big plan to build a high-level nuclear waste storage facility? You know the one here in Nevada? It’s supposed to be at the south-west corner, by the Yucca Mountain. Blah. Talk about garbage guys for the military!”
“A high-level nuclear waste storage place? What does that mean? Isn’t there some guy that does something to all that nuclear waste, some kind of government super instrument that zaps nuclear waste, like ‘spot-be-gone’ or something?” Jake asked, finding himself interested in whole issue.
“Ahhhh, first of all, one would have to know what high-level nuclear waste is. Then one would have to know what vitrification is. It’ll take hours to explain all this, but in a nutshell, here’s what high-level nuclear waste storage is about – listen carefully. Damn, I should’ve been one of those professor types. I’d rock as a teacher. Though I think I’m more musically inclined. I’d rock at being a rockstar. What do you think?” Jo asked, completely distracted by the lost mouse running around in her head. She even asked poor Hootch what he though.
“Focus, Jo-Jo,” Jake said, stunning her with the affection in his voice.
“You heard that, Hootch? He called me Jo-Jo! Have you played that game called Jo-Jo’s Fashion Show online? Heh. It’s a no-brainer, but it’s fun. Yes, yes, back to radioactive crap,” Jo then settled in comfortably to explain everything to him.
“Starting from the top. The Yucca mountain repository idea was supposedly axed by the Obama administration, but don’t you worry, Dynaco has a hand in it. We want to play with deadly nuclear waste, and we want to do it right next to our people, so we can kill off the dumb, gambling folk one-by-one. Building was supposed to start in 2013, but Dynaco is going up in flames, so for now, the official statement is that the plan is axed.”
She continued, “The waste we’re talking about is the by-product of fuels used for the creation of nuclear weapons. Vitrification is, simply put, the art of mixing sugar into high level nuclear waste and turning it into something stable and non-degradable. Are you following? After the sugar is added, we simply pass it through a hot, hot, hot tube and turn the fucking lot of it into glass. Funny, no one knows about these things. It should be taught in schools, ‘How to manage high-level nuclear waste’ will be the name of the subject. I hated school; I was always bigger than everyone. Did you hate school, Jakie-poo?”
“Jesus, Jo. Stay on topic, will you?” Jake rasped, wanting to know more.
“Fine, fine. Of course, the Russkies have better ways, and the Australian Synroc, which is a synthetic rock program, is way better and more sophisticated than our methods. America does love to pretend they’re more advanced, but we’re as good as monkeys in trees. Oh well,” she sighed.
“We still store liquid nuclear high level waste in underground tanks, thanks to the Manhattan Project and the Cold War. We’re way behind, Jakie. It’s sad, actually. Anyways, once Dynaco blasts the shit out of some poor nation and blames it on someone else, they’ll be offered the land at a discount price - them being the saviours and all. They’ll have the money to build a fancy waste storage system wherever it is and everything will be just peachy. The technology for the eventual neutralization of fallout land will come, perhaps in a couple of decades. I hope to be having many senior moments and plan on driving with my left blinker on permanently when I’m that old,” she said, all in the same sentence.
Stunned at everything he had just heard, he could not understand why everything seemed so simple to her. Why was it all so factual? How could she be part of something that seemed so evil? Did she really plan on driving with her left blinker on permanently?
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