The Authority of the Atom
"At least it wasn't a wasted trip," Max Planck murmured, watching the farce unfold on the first day of the awards ceremony.
The recipient of the Physics Prize was none other than Max Planck, the man who had formulated the Planck constant. In the scientific community, Planck was what one might call a social linchpin. Had he not agreed to attend, it was highly likely the other scientists would have boycotted the event entirely.
"I heard Madame Curie is going to present the awards..."
"The giants of physics have all gathered in Vienna. I'm glad I came, if only for the amusement."
There was Niels Bohr, who had won the Chemistry Prize for elucidating the quantum nature of the periodic table. And David Hilbert, the Mathematics Prize laureate, who had mathematically formalized the theory of general relativity.
"It seems we are surrounded entirely by physicists."
"Indeed..."
Nearly all the laureates were either physicists or giants of science with at least one foot firmly planted in the field. This was Stahl's meticulous design.
Since nuclear fission hasn't even been properly defined yet, I might as well start collecting physicists.
Highly advanced physics inevitably bleeds into the realm of chemistry, and vice versa. One cannot be a true chemist without understanding physics, nor a physicist without chemistry. It was all a matter of perspective, really. Thus, Stahl's strategy was simple: hand out prizes to the physicists first and ask questions later.
Niels Bohr spoke in a slightly wistful tone. "Still, I do wish they had awarded us the Nobel Prize instead."
"But the Nobel Committee is dreadfully slow, is it not?" Hilbert countered. "There is a whole queue of people waiting for it, starting with Einstein. Besides, for a mathematician like myself, the path to a Nobel Prize is entirely blocked."
"True, and the prize money here is several times larger than the Nobel's."
As the scientists chatted about this newly established accolade, the ceremony prepared to commence.
"...by elucidating the relationship between photon energy and frequency..."
After a tedious introduction of his achievements by the master of ceremonies, Marie Curie, Planck stepped up to the podium. Ultimately, the most important aspect of any award was the prize that accompanied it, was it not? While the organizers had managed to secure some credibility by previously awarding prizes to Georges Clemenceau and Rosa Luxemburg, the award itself still lacked established prestige.
I only hope this prize does not degrade in value, Planck thought. Lest winning it becomes an embarrassment.
Just as the thought crossed his mind...
"His Imperial Majesty, Kaiser Ferdinand II, will now personally bestow the state decorations."
A decoration?! A medal?! Max Planck stared at Ferdinand II with a look of utter bewilderment. The Kaiser stepped forward and pinned none other than the Order of Saint Stephen to Planck's chest.
...Is it truly acceptable to bestow such an honor upon a foreign scientist?
Receiving the highest order of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was, for all practical purposes, tantamount to being elevated to the nobility. Though the empire's aristocratic system had become largely ceremonial following Hötzendorf's failed rebellion, a noble was still a noble. In fact, because it was now purely honorary, its prestige and legitimacy were guarded even more fiercely.
"By the bestowal of the Order of Saint Stephen, We hereby confer the title of Baron upon Max Planck. In all official imperial documents, he shall henceforth be recorded as Max von Planck."
It was an honor reserved exclusively for these men of science. Naturally, Niels Bohr would soon become Niels von Bohr, and David Hilbert would likewise find a von inserted into the middle of his name.
Well, well... this is quite overwhelming. To go this far?
Planck offered a sheepish smile. Nevertheless, Baron Max von Planck was already quite thrilled at the prospect of boasting about his new title and medal to his colleagues back home. But the surprises were not over yet.
"As well as achieving great feats in science to receive the Ferdinand Prize, the Empire guarantees unlimited access to state-sponsored research funds. To this end, the imperial treasury shall establish the Planck Research Fund."
"...!"
"Of course, whether you choose to remain in the Empire is entirely at your discretion," the Kaiser continued. "However, should you ever return, Planck, know that this research fund will always be waiting for you."
Even a scientist of Max Planck's caliber was bound by the constraints of budget. Was it because the budgets were too small? Rarely. More often than not, the issue was the inability to spend the funds as they saw fit. Scientists, in their own way, had to be entrepreneurs. Only by securing a wealthy benefactor could they conduct their experiments with peace of mind.
One had to look no further than Albert Einstein's research to see this reality. His experiments required teams to travel across the globe to photograph the sky simultaneously during solar eclipses. Naturally, no sensible businessman wanted to sponsor the theory of relativity, which promised zero immediate financial return. As a result, Einstein had to scrape by with meager funds, hire cheap labor, and pray for clear skies—only for a single cloudy day to ruin the entire expedition and flush what little money he had down the drain.
The emperor of an entire nation is offering to be my personal patron...?
There would undoubtedly be strings attached. Even so, the offer was unprecedentedly generous.
Does the Empire... truly possess that much wealth?
In truth, it wasn't strictly a matter of money. Granted, a mega-project on the scale of the Apollo program would require astronomical sums. And researching actual nuclear weapons and atomic energy would eventually cost far more than even that. But for the vast majority of academic research, the costs were not actually that prohibitive. The United States Department of Defense budget was nearly thirty times larger than NASA's. What harm could possibly come from doubling the budget for mere theoretical physics?
"In addition, there are pensions, seats in the academy, textbook editing rights, faculty appointment authority... so many benefits that I cannot possibly list them all here."
Planck's eyes widened.
Remaining in Austria... might not be such a bad idea after all.
"Professor Curie, the laureate for next year is bound to be you anyway, so please, just bear with us a little longer."
"...I must say, I am disappointed."
Marie Curie glared at me with an icy expression. Sigh...
"We are offering you almost every other benefit we gave the others, save for the state decoration itself."
"Vice Chairman Stahl, the decoration is the entire point."
"But didn't you already win a Nobel Prize?"
"You told me you were creating an award that would put the Nobel to shame..."
I had no idea Marie Curie could be this terrifying. Even Max Planck and the other scientists didn't dare utter a single word in her presence. Niels Bohr, who seemed rather timid by nature, looked as though he was on the verge of a panic attack.
"...My apologies. I will ensure you receive a decoration under some other pretext, so please, calm yourself."
After glaring at me for a few moments longer, Madame Curie finally seemed to soften. Fortunately, all three laureates readily agreed to remain in Austria.
"I must wrap up my affairs in Germany first... Oh, by the way, may I bring my graduate students along?"
"Of course."
"Should I begin studying Czech or any of the other local languages...?"
"You are German, are you not? You are perfectly welcome to lecture in German."
I hadn't expected scientists of this caliber to be so enthusiastic. To be honest, I hadn't invited Einstein because I assumed he wouldn't cooperate. Perhaps I should try to entice him next year?
That aside... it really is hard to believe. Just being in the same room as these people fills me with a profound sense of awe.
Niels Bohr, Max Planck, David Hilbert, Marie Curie... modern science could never have been built without them. Just then...
"Please! I beg of you, just let me in!"
"H-how did you even get in here?!"
"With all these legendary scientists gathered in one place... if I don't get to meet them, I'll kill myself! Just let me through!"
"Damn it, why is this kid so strong?! Grab him, quickly!"
Well, well. I might be a man from a century in the future, but even by the standards of this era, the people gathered here were absolute legends. It seemed even scientists had their share of obsessive fans. But then, a youthful voice shouting from outside made me freeze in my tracks.
"Professor Bohr! Professor Hilbert! Professor Planck! Madame Curie!"
"Shut him up!"
"My name is John von Neumann! I will be standing alongside you all very soon, so remember my name!"
...I had never heard of a scientist named Johann Ludwig. But the surname that followed was impossible to mistake. Von Neumann? The man who had dabbled in everything from computer science to economics, mathematics, and even the atomic bomb, leaving behind a trail of genius achievements in every single field—John von Neumann?
Wait... if he has a 'von' in his name, he must be German or Austrian. But 'John' is an English name. Ah.
Of course. "John" in German was "Johann." That meant the boy screaming his lungs out outside, Johann Ludwig von Neumann, was indeed the legendary John von Neumann.
"Excuse me for a moment," I said.
"Vice Chairman? It is dangerous. Please remain inside."
"It is fine. Judging by the voice, it is only a child. What harm could a child possibly do?"
As if possessed, I opened the door and stepped out. A young man who looked to be around nineteen or twenty was struggling against the guards, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Oh?! Vice Chairman Stahl?"
"Did you say your name is Johann Ludwig von Neumann?"
"Y-yes...! I have just finished my Gymnasium studies and am about to enter university. Please, you must let me meet those professors!"
"Come inside."
Though the guards' faces were painted with sheer bewilderment, I ushered von Neumann into the reception room.
"But tell me, Mr. von Neumann. How on earth did you manage to get in here?"
"My father is the branch manager of the Austrian Agricultural Cooperative for District 12. I snuck in by following him..."
"Your accent sounds Hungarian."
"I was born in Hungary, yes, but I am Jewish!"
"...I am Vice Chairman Stahl. Here is my card. Write to me, and I shall find you an excellent mentor."
For now, I had John von Neumann sit down in the reception room. Though the scientists initially looked taken aback, they were professors as much as they were researchers. Before long, they began conversing with him, treating him as though a new student had simply wandered into their lecture hall. Max Planck, who possessed the most seniority and worldly experience among them, struck up a casual conversation with me.
"By the way, your reputation precedes you, Vice Chairman Stahl. Nitrogen fixation is a monumental achievement..."
"It is nothing compared to the work of the professors gathered here."
"Oh, please... Aside from Madame Curie, who traversed the battlefields with her mobile X-ray units, none of us have created technology that actually saves lives."
"No. You will soon."
"Haha. I am certain you will receive a Nobel Prize yourself in due time, Vice Chairman. After all, even I had to wait until I was past sixty to receive mine."
After exchanging a few lighthearted jests, it was time to get down to business.
"Professor Planck, I am sure you have realized that the Ferdinand Prize does not come without expectations."
"...Indeed. However, I must make it clear that I cannot cooperate in the creation of weapons of war."
Weapons of war... Well, for now, that wasn't the plan. What I wanted from them, for now, was simply the establishment of theoretical physics. I smiled and shook my head.
"No. As I have said before, I am more of an engineer than a scientist. What I require of you... is to prove my imagination into reality."
"Pardon?"
"Nuclear physics."
If a chemist didn't even know the structure of an atom and the basic principles of nuclear fission, they might as well hand in their degree. Smiling softly, I began to explain the fundamental concepts of nuclear physics that had already been proven in the twenty-first century.
"Do you believe that the atomic nucleus is merely a cluster of protons?"
"That is an established fact."
"Regrettably, that is incorrect. Frankly, it makes no logical sense."
"What?"
"The nucleus is composed of positively charged protons. But how on earth could identical positive charges clump together like that? By all laws of electromagnetism, they should repel each other and explode instantly."
The scientists who first attempted to map the structure of the nucleus had wrestled with this very paradox. Of course, I already knew the answer.
"Perhaps... there exists another particle within the nucleus, one that does not repel protons?"
"An intriguing hypothesis, but it has yet to be proven experimentally."
"Well, that is simple enough. One would only need to bombard a beryllium target with alpha particles and observe what is emitted. More importantly, if this neutron actually exists, what do you think would happen if we fired it at a heavy atom like uranium?"
"...Fascinating."
The scientists grasped my concept instantly, their eyes beginning to gleam with intellectual curiosity.
"In simple terms, you are suggesting we split a heavy atom into lighter ones?"
"Yes. But let us assume that the heavier the atom, the greater its binding energy, and the lighter the atom, the smaller its binding energy. In the process of splitting them, some mass might... disappear."
John von Neumann, who had been quietly listening from the back, suddenly blurted out:
"E equals MC squared!"
As expected of a genius—he caught on instantly. At any rate, mass disappears during the process of nuclear fission. To be precise, that lost mass is converted into a colossal amount of energy. With that, one could build bombs, or generate power. Max Planck clapped his hands in admiration.
"...A truly marvelous imagination."
"That same 'imagination' is what turned the bizarre notion of blue mold containing antibiotic substances into reality," I replied. "And so, what I ask of you is to research this concept of nuclear fission."
With that, the scientists hastily returned to Germany and France to wind down their affairs. They scrambled to acquire experimental apparatuses, preparing to prove the existence of the "neutron" exactly as Stahl had described.
Beryllium and... alpha particles?
Could it really be that simple? Niels Bohr enlisted the aid of local experimental physicists to construct the apparatus, and...
"N-Niels Bohr! How on earth did you know?!"
"Pardon?"
"We bombarded the beryllium with alpha particles, just as you suggested. And... a radiation was emitted! A radiation with absolutely no electric charge!"
"..."
"Y-you must publish a paper immediately! This is a monumental discovery!"
Similar revelations swept through the laboratories of Max Planck, David Hilbert, and Marie Curie. They stared at the experimental results, their entire bodies trembling with awe.
"W-who is this man, Stahl?"
"Did he truly deduce all of this through mere 'imagination'?"
These were individuals who had been hailed as prodigies since childhood. Naturally, their standards for what constituted a "genius" were exceptionally high. To them, one had to achieve something on the level of Einstein to even qualify for the title—and they themselves were very close to that peak. Yet, now, they all spoke with one voice.
"Stahl... that man is an absolute genius...!"