“The importance of this project will not pass away with the collapse of Germany.” The undersecretary leaned forward. “You know the kind of war we are up against in the Pacific. We have begun to repay the Japanese for their brutalities and their mass murders of helpless civilians and prisoners of war.” Patterson shook his head with resolution. “We will not quit until they are completely crushed.” He turned his hands into fists. “You have an important part to play in their defeat. There must be no letup.”

The evening films were Back to Bataan and Bugs Bunny Nips the Nips. By then Joe and Anna had slipped out.

18

In the light of the flame the room vibrated. Anna looked around at the crucifix and saints on the adobe walls, the low ceiling beams, the striped blanket on the cot, Joe standing piñon logs in an inverted V over the burning kindling in the corner fireplace. Through the shutters came the evening sounds of distant children, a screen door slamming, a dog being chased.

As he laid her down on the rough blanket he kissed her open mouth, her neck, the small, dark tips of her breasts. He slid his hand over the pale sheen of her belly to her legs and to the essential mystery, a twist of black over a soft white anvil.

“Welcome to Santiago.”

Sleeping with his arms around her, he dreamed of Augustino. The captain was following him with a rifle as Joe climbed a steep snow-covered hill toward Anna. Both Joe and Anna were naked, while Augustino was dressed like an Apache with a corduroy coat and a high-crowned hat. The snow turned to ashes. Anna disappeared, and over the crest of the hill came horses, a herd of mustangs immersed in steam and the radiance of a phosphorus bomb.

Thunder sounded like a far-off cracking of the earth. The fireplace had the dull, subsided glow of embers. She wasn’t in bed, and her clothes weren’t on the chair. The shutters were open to a full moon. It was after midnight, and he didn’t know where she could have gone unless she was visiting the outhouse, but her side of the bed was cold and he had the sense that she had been gone for some time. He put on pants and shirt and went out.

The pueblo was blue. Blue adobe, blue fence, blue trees. He held up his hand: blue. Lightning played over the Jemez, but the rest of the sky was clear, the stars dim only because of the brightness of the moonlight. The ground felt like ice.