The Hand of My Enemy by Mary Vigliante Szydlowski Page B

highly
volatile gases.  Explosions blew apart the containment buildings, releasing
clouds of poisonous steam and smoke laden with lethal radioactivity into the
air.
    The same scene was repeated over and over again
as firestorms swept region after region in an ever-widening circle of death and
destruction.  Everything was burning: power plants, chemical plants,
refineries, plastic and textile factories, even abandoned mines.  Acrid smoke
and noxious fumes filled the air.
    The magnitude of the earthquake caused by the
bomb was unprecedented.  It was the most destructive ever in recorded history. 
Seismic waves of destruction had pulsed out from the epicenter at Carg turning
buildings, roads, and bridges hundreds of miles away into piles of rubble.  It
was unclear whether there was an unknown fault in the planet’s crust there to
begin with or if the change in underground pressure caused by the explosion
created the fault and triggered the quake.  Above ground the concussion from
the blast and shock waves pulverized everything in their path.  The intensity
of the blast winds only dissipating when they reached the sea.

*****
     
    Two weeks later, the reactors were still burning,
spewing radiation, and spreading death.  Smoke rising from smoldering cities
created a smothering gray fog that clung to the hills and valleys, depositing
ash and dust that withered plants and suffocated all life.  Shifting wind
patterns and spring storms spread the fallout far and wide.  No area of the
once great nation was spared.  Isotopes of barium, krypton, plutonium,
strontium, ruthenium, iodine, curium, cesium, and cobalt mixed to form a toxic
lethal soup, which fell as rain on the once lush land below.
    For some unexplained reason, the radioactive
debris had not been carried aloft into the upper atmosphere where the movement
of wind currents could have spread it far beyond the borders of Galt.  All the
contamination remained at the lower altitudes, where a stream of swirling air
kept the worst of the fallout confined to the devastated island nation.
    The authorities had, at first, hesitated warning
the population about the lethal levels of radiation, fearing a panic.  They
thought they could manage the crisis and contain the danger, but they'd deluded
themselves.  With vast portions of their communication network inoperable,
government efforts to silence the remaining media failed.  As bulletins about
the noxious fallout were broadcast, hysteria spread.  There were riots and
widespread looting as cities, towns, and villages emptied in a futile attempt
to escape the menacing clouds.
    The government initially refused to acknowledge
the disaster, fearing that the Hurds would lose no time in attacking.  But as
drifting fallout began to trigger monitoring stations all over the planet, the
Galts finally made the announcement.
    Within days officials came to the sobering
realization that they couldn't deal with a disaster of this magnitude on their
own.  They sent envoys to all their allies requesting aid and technical
assistance.  They were in desperate need of food, water, and trained medical
personnel.  Twenty percent of the population had already died of injuries or
illness resulting from the disaster.  Another twenty percent were suffering
from radiation sickness or chemical poisoning.  Their recovery depended on
prompt medical intervention and the availability of lifesaving drugs and
equipment.  Without help, Galt would soon become a vast graveyard.  Scientists
could only speculate on the epidemics and cancers, which would strike the
survivors of this holocaust in the months and years ahead.  The future,
however, was a long way off; their main concern was surviving the present.
    The animals in their herds were sick and dying,
their milk and meat contaminated.  Crops withered in the fields, poisoned by
toxic chemicals and radioactive soot.  All the surface water had been poisoned
by the lethal dust.  Though the