Ri instantly read Dominika’s blank stare, and blushed in contrition. “I apologize for the Chos?n’g?l, the Korean script, but I know that original scientific documents have more intrinsic value than translated or transcribed ones.” This is quite the little perfectionist, thought Dominika, appraising the deep-blue halo around his head. A thinker, brilliant, anticipates reactions.
“Quite so, professor,” said Dominika, “but a peddler of spurious information might bring documents whose value cannot be immediately established.” It was a discourteous suggestion made to gauge his reaction. In the back of her mind, this still could be a North Korean intelligence trap concocted for some inscrutable reason by the infantile mind of the Outstanding Leader or whatever they called the butter-bean chairman these days. By habit, she and Ioana both subconsciously listened for the crunch of gravel footsteps on the driveway outside. Ri smiled and clapped his hands.
“Quite right, indeed; you are prudent to raise the question,” he said.
“And we still have not heard exactly why you requested this meeting or precisely what you are offering, or what specifically you expect in return,” said Dominika.
“I will answer your questions, gladly,” said the little man, with a little bow.
“First, I ask nothing of you in exchange for this information. I have no need for money. I do not want to defect. My family in Pyongyang would be fed alive into a steel rolling furnace one by one if I was to disappear from my post in Vienna.
“Second, I offer you intelligence—state secrets—on recent successes in Yongbyon’s nuclear program, specifically efforts to construct a reliable trigger to a nuclear device, one that eventually will be sufficiently miniaturized to be fitted atop an ICBM. I will summarize in English what I have provided in these technical reports for your preliminary report to Moscow. Will that be satisfactory?”
“That would be quite satisfactory,” said Dominika. “But the third question remains: Why are you doing this? And why offer the information to Moscow?” Ri looked Dominika directly in the eyes, his blue halo unwavering, his hands still. She did not detect any deception.
“I chose Moscow because Washington has lost its global gravitas in the last decade, it has become an eagle with no talons or beak. CIA has been politicized and contorted, and tends to leak intelligence at the behest of their administration for political gain.” He smiled. “Collaborating with an intelligence service that leaks to serve ideologue politicians tends to shorten the life expectancy of its reporting sources. I am willing to run risks, but I am not suicidal.”
Ri wiped his palms on his trousers. “You ask why? A person can sit silent only so long. Nuclear weapons in the hands of a man-child who calls himself The Saint of the Sun and the Moon would be disaster for our country, for the Asian region, and for the world. I risk my and my family’s lives to see that never happens. There is no hope in our country. Perhaps I can bring some hope for the future.”
“I admire your conviction, professor,” said Dominika. “Are you prepared to continue reporting from Vienna, from the IAEA? I will not lie to you; the risks will not diminish. But I personally will be responsible for your security.”
“Collaborating in Vienna will be significantly more difficult,” said Ri. “There is a cadre of security guards who watch our delegation very closely. We are required to live in the same apartment building, two delegates in each flat, so everyone informs on everyone else. Solitary time is very rare.”
“These are difficulties that can be surmounted,” said Dominika. “We have much experience in these matters.”
With the exquisite timing of a trained Sparrow, Ioana stood and walked into the kitchen. “I will start dinner while you discuss business,” she said. “I think a bottle of wine tonight, to celebrate?”
* * *
* * *
Academician Ri sat beside Dominika on the couch and summarized what was in the reports he had provided, occasionally turning a page over to sketch a simple diagram to illustrate a point. He spoke like a scientist, logically and in an ordered sequence.
“We could talk for weeks about nuclear-weapon design development, but in a few words, these papers document that our intelligence service has given our nuclear program certain foreign technology that will enable North Korea to build a more powerful nuclear device, and to miniaturize it to fit into the warhead of an intercontinental ballistic missile. If I may, there are three important points:
“One: Our intelligence service, the RGB, the Reconnaissance Bureau of the General Staff Department, is not a global service. They operate regionally, are hopelessly insular, and generally ineffective. They could never have, under any circumstances, acquired the technology on their own.
“Two: The technology involves advanced electromagnetic components, heretofore only seen in the development of a US naval railgun, an experimental weapon that can propel a projectile at great speeds over immense distances.
“Three: Harnessing the electromagnetic power of a reconfigured railgun will enable Yongbyon to develop what is called a gun-type detonator—slamming two subcritical hemispheres of U-235 together—for a uranium fission device in a very short period of time. The technology is relevant because it will also facilitate miniaturization of the trigger to fit inside a missile warhead.” Dominika knew this was immensely important.
“Professor, how soon will the trigger be ready for use in its miniaturized form?”
“I estimate six months, unless there are complications,” said Ri.
“Does North Korea at this time have a missile with sufficient range to reach Washington, DC, or Moscow?”
“Those are secrets held by the army’s Missile Forces of the General Staff. My understanding is that as of today, they do not, but in twelve months, perhaps. That is only a guess.”
“How did the RGB acquire the electromagnetic railgun technology?”
Ri shook his head slowly. “That I do not know. We are given plain copies of the research, but we see no original documents or plans. The RGB would never disclose the source of their intelligence. Two things are certain: The stolen technology is authentic—it is accelerating our program, saving us years of research and development.”
“And the second?” asked Dominika.
“This science could come from only one place. The Americans have a big problem. They have a mole in their midst.”
IOANA’S LEMON MEATBALLS WITH CELERIAC
Mix ground beef, chopped onion, chopped parsley, raw egg, allspice, salt, and pepper, and form into short oblong kebab shapes. Aggressively brown the kebabs, then set aside. Sauté celeriac root cut into matchsticks, crushed whole garlic cloves, turmeric, cumin, cinnamon, crushed fennel seeds, and smoked paprika, stirring on high heat. Return kebabs to pan, add chicken stock, lemon juice, and salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then simmer until celeriac is tender and sauce is thick. Serve with a dollop of thick yogurt and a sprinkle of parsley.
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