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I do really feel it would have been a better world without Teller. I think he is an enemy of humanity.
—I.I. Rabi
“Dr. Teller,” said prosecutor Roger Robb, standing in front of the ursine physicist, “may I ask you, sir, at the outset, are you appearing as a witness here today because you want to be here?”
Teller’s voice was its usual thickly accented rumble. “I appear because I have been asked to and because I consider it my duty upon request to say what I think in the matter.” He shifted in the witness chair, and his artificial foot made a clack against the floorboards. “I would have preferred not to appear.”
“I believe, sir, that you stated to me some time ago that anything you had to say, you wished to say in the presence of Dr. Oppenheimer?”
“That is correct.”
“Is it your intention to suggest that Dr. Oppenheimer is disloyal to the United States?”
From his couch at the rear of the room, Robert saw the back of the head move left and right. “I do not want to suggest anything of the kind.” He paused, and Oppie wondered if he was finished, but the Hungarian soon went on. “I know Oppenheimer as an intellectually most alert and very complicated person, and I think it would be presumptuous and wrong on my part if I would try in any way to analyze his motives. But I have always assumed, and I now assume, that he is loyal to the United States. I believe this and I shall believe it until I see very conclusive proof to the opposite.”
Robb nodded curtly. “Now, a question which is the corollary of that. Do you or do you not believe that Dr. Oppenheimer is a security risk?”
There was silence in the courtroom, although through the window, in the distance, a tour guide with a bullhorn was lecturing visitors about the white spire dedicated to the president who couldn’t tell a lie.
Teller took a deep breath, the broad shoulders rising. “In a great number of cases I have seen Dr. Oppenheimer act—I understood that Dr. Oppenheimer acted—in a way which for me was exceedingly hard to understand.” He shook his head and Oppie imagined him drawing his great shaggy eyebrows together. “I thoroughly disagreed with him in numerous issues and his actions frankly appeared to me confused and ...” He paused as if hoping for a better adjective but concluded with one he’d used before: “... complicated.”
Numerous issues. They disagreed about the super—that one thing. Yes, you could divide it into dozens of subtopics, but the gulf between them hadn’t been that large ... or so Oppie had thought.
“To this extent,” Teller continued, “I feel that I would like to see the vital interests of this country in hands which I understand better and therefore trust more. In this very limited sense I would feel personally more secure if public matters would rest in other hands.”
Oppie’s heart sank. He felt ... he felt like Chevalier must have when he’d learned Robert had named him to the authorities. There was bile in his throat.
Surely that was enough. Surely Robb now had everything he needed. But no. The bastard was insatiable. “Doctor, I would like to ask for your expert opinion again. In your opinion, if Dr. Oppenheimer should go fishing for the rest of his life, what would be the effect upon the atomic-energy and the thermonuclear programs?”
Jesus Christ, thought Oppie. For fuck’s sake.
“You mean from now on?” asked Teller.
“Yes, sir.”
Teller shifted his bulk again. “In that case I should like to say two things. Within the A.E.C., I should say that whole committees could go fishing without affecting the work of those who are actively engaged in the work.” Oppie saw the three members of the board look startled. “In particular, however, the general recommendations that I know have come from Oppenheimer were more frequently—and I mean not only and not even particularly the thermonuclear case but other cases—more frequently a hindrance than a help, and therefore I think that further work of Dr. Oppenheimer on committees would not be helpful.”
Robb looked like he was going to speak again, but Chairman Gray held up a hand. “Do you feel that it would endanger the common defense and security to grant clearance to Dr. Oppenheimer?” he asked.
Teller was silent for a time and when he at last spoke there was a note, Oppie thought, of contrition in the husky voice as if his old colleague realized he might have gone too far. “I believe—and that is merely a question of belief and there is no expertness, no real information behind it—that Dr. Oppenheimer’s character is such that he would not knowingly and willingly do anything that is designed to endanger the safety of this country. To the extent, therefore, that your question is directed toward intent, I would say I do not see any reason to deny clearance.”
Oppie hadn’t been aware that he was holding his breath, but it suddenly exploded from him in a relieved sigh.
But Teller wasn’t done, damn it all. “But if it is a question of wisdom and judgment, as demonstrated by actions since 1945, then I would say one would be wiser not to grant clearance.” He fell silent for a long moment then added, almost plaintively, “May I limit myself to these comments?”
Gray said yes and dismissed Teller. Oppie had seen the man stand up countless times before. It was always a bit of an ordeal, as Teller had no feeling in his artificial foot. But at last he was erect. Oppie expected him to simply head toward the door, but Edward startled him by turning around and walking toward him. He loomed over Oppie and looked down with pale irises, hooded lids, and unkempt eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” he said, offering his hand.
Oppie stared at the hand, so much meatier than his own. But it was his character that was being judged here, and the only thing to do was take it. “After what you’ve just said,” Robert replied softly, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Teller released his grip, turned, and shuffled toward the exit.