Work Text:
1940 (Year 2)
It was a bright and unfortunately early morning for the residents of Hanford Washington, U.S.A. It was a much brighter, and much more unfortunate morning across the Pacific ocean hours prior, but this story follows that.
August 9th, 1945, was not a particularly important day for the personnel working at the Hanford site of the Manhattan project, at least not to begin with. The standard protocol for such a project is that an astounding ninety percent of the workers, at any one of the many Manhattan project sites, were unaware of the context of their work. Meaning most were unaware they were creating the very materials that went into the atomic bombs the United States used during the second world war. All the workers knew is that they were working for a government job, their work is highly secretive, and that they were paid well enough to have steak for dinner each night, even considering the food rationing. They only pieced together the larger context of their work after the first bomb dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. This is fortunate information, considering most of my associates participating were also unaware of what the Manhattan project was. Most shuffled in with the typical post-capitalist gloom or dread, others mildly to severely hungover.
Regardless of their condition, the day began as a regular office job.
The standard before-work chatter is overheard around the office:
“Fuck you-”
“Fuck you !!”
“Fuck off, you bitch-”
Some personnel had “technical difficulties” and got to work later than expected. The others waited, patiently or otherwise, for the others to join, playing copywritten music in the meantime, rendering a portion of the video-recorded material useless. Then, a status indicator was pointed out to the group.
“Oh my god, the technical difficulties is that he started a game of Age of Empires 2,” said Lemon.
The others groaned in response. Fortunately, at that time, the radio was turned on and tuned in to the Los Alamos, New Mexico site, where the beloved general receptionist is also tuned in and greeted the group over the air. The general receptionist of the Hanford, Washington site is visiting family in New Mexico, but still had job responsibilities back home. War is brutal and unforgiving, but those with the level of compassion and attentiveness that Indigo Jack possessed help make hard times more palatable for the rest of us. John "Indigo Jack" Indigo is one of the most efficient, hardworking, analytical people to walk the face of this earth. His efficiency and ability to condense lengthy data into streamlined, digestible content made everything at The Project (and anything else he worked on) run as smooth as hypothetically possible. He is quite externally laid back with how quickly his brain would process and categorize information, it is fascinating watching him work.
Some questioned if he was a high-functioning stimulant user, but in reality, he had undiagnosed, unmedicated, 1940s hyperactive-impulsive ADHD.
“How’s it over there in Los Alamos, Indigo? Gotten blown up yet?” asked Steel.
“Oh, it’s not too bad here, sheriff. I’ve got my healthy dose of radiation from both the tests and the sun. I'll say it is hot over here,” Indigo responded.
Oscar Steel is the local Benton County sheriff that was hired onto the project as security and law enforcement. His mother was from Louisiana, so he does have a tinge of a southern accent, and says to not question it. He has been working and protecting his community for the past few decades successfully. Compared to the scientists at Hanford, Steel certainly is not the most book-smart of them. The others treat him like he’s an idiot, as they are more educated and sophisticated than him, but he is significantly more street-smart educated, especially in terms of murder (but we’ll get to that later). Steel is incredibly competent with his work, and uses his knowledge and power for the good of his community. He is unfortunately an outlier within his field of work, even still to this day.
“Mr. Mint, not to bother you or anything sir, but like I’m gonna need some coffee right now. Because I’m hurtin’… for certain , “ insisted Cider. Mint, the nuclear waste disposal lead, was filling in Indigo’s coffee runs while he was away in New Mexico, albeit not very well.
"I'm gonna have to ask to see your paperwork, just protocol sir," asked Steel.
“For coffee ???” exclaimed Cider.
Martin Cider is a scientist at Hanford. He is very relaxed and has surprising conflict management skills. He is also quite the nihilist, but not in a the-world-is-ending way, more so of the who-cares-let's-have-fun-while-we're-here way. This often leads to un-advised activities and impulsivity, but not to extremes.
As you could tell from above, he was moderately hungover.
At this point, it was promptly time for work, and everyone's paperwork was handed out. The contents of said paperwork were not important to the story, it was mostly a distraction and busy work for the most part. That didn't stop the tireless and vacuous effort that the group put in, for far too much time. The scientists settled into their places and started off.
“Oh my god, this is sexist!” Cornflower shouted. “All the women are clearance level B and all the men are level A!”
“Not all of them, Fern and Cider–” Mint began to say.
“UMM . Excuse me,” Cider said loudly, raising his hand.
“Are you level B?” asked Cornflower. Cider nodded his head with a smug smile.
“B for Breadwinner ,” Cider responded. The group laughed at this remark. They continued on their paperwork.
"This does not seem to look like physics or anything to do with bombs," examined Cider, flipping over his work.
“You were only given one page,” giggled Irene Winter, astonished at his one page.
“Wait, you all have more than one page?” responded Cider, “I don’t have the brain power or the regals to think about any of this.”
"Of course, you don't," Winter assured.
Irene Winter is a specialized physicist at Hanford. She is incredibly sweet, and balanced, and finds the best within even the worst of people, almost an overkill optimist in that aspect. She is incredibly intelligent as well, getting a college scholarship and a degree in physics during her time was quite the feat. She keeps a list of everyone's birthdays and coffee preferences at Hanford.
The head manager Jessie Hazel had all of the reference material for the group's paperwork, but because of the backward rules and regulations, Hazel could not share the contents of his paperwork, only checking if the others were on the right path. This caused some commotion, as most of the group wanted to mooch the answers from him.
“The boss is withholding information from us,” Fern said jokingly to the cameraman, “We gotta take him out,” Fern chuckled.
“Yeah, c’mon Jess, this is real difficult,” complained Cider.
“There’s a reason why you’re clearance level B, Cider, and it might be related to your amount of paperwork,” Hazel said with a smile, slightly condescendingly. Cider folded his arms in front of his chest in mild frustration.
After a few minutes and some progress being made, a select few went up to Jessie to ask about “after-work shenanigans.”
"Mr. Hazel, how do you feel about any sort of after-work happenings tonight?" proposed Cider.
“I do like drinking,” considered Hazel. “I day drink,” followed up with a content smile.
Jessie Hazel is the manager and head scientist for Hanford. He is quite the laid-back boss, as although he is in a much higher position than most of the group, he neglected protocol and often left out important documents lying on his desk instead of storing them in a locked cabinet. This relaxed nature often sparked controversy in such a high-strung position as this one. Some of the group were thankful for his nonchalant temper, as it made the job a slight degree less stressful. Others were quite burdened with worry, as protocol seemed like gospel to them, and anathema to break.
Regardless of how people interpreted his management style, he ended up the same in the end.
This is the point in time where Mint would have asked Indigo for a strong coffee, as he certainly needed it.
Lawrence Lemon is the regional photographer at Hanford. He is energetic, patient, and quite non-traditionalist for his time. He fell deep and hard for his passions and the people he loved, and that is a trait that he held with pride. He is unfortunately quite anxious as well, as his photography is as top-secret, if not more, than the work that the scientists were doing. He constantly worried about the press and the public somehow getting ahold of his work, especially if it fell into enemy hands. It is much more situational anxiety than brain functions anxiety. Regardless, it drove him forward.
Lawrence Lemon, the regional photographer at Hanford, found the body of head scientist and manager Jessie Hazel in Hazel's office. Lemon was quite taken aback, as most non-crime scene photographers don't come across a body in such a way. Lemon's response was to take a few rushed photographs of the crime scene, and quickly get back and tell the group what had happened.
"Alright, we have a problem," hurried Lemon. He made eye contact with Sheriff Steel and led him to Hazel's office. Steel looked at the ex-manager for a moment.
“That mother fucker is dead ,” Steel stated, almost content with himself for making an obvious conclusion. He bent down to continue his examinations. Lemon, slightly sick, rushed back out of the private office to tell the others about the news. As Steel continued, a slightly muffled voice was heard from the main office.
“Fuck! He was such a good boss. He literally taught me how to use a hammer,” Cider lamented.
“That’s so sad,” responded Arthur Fern, slightly disoriented from Cider’s initial response.
“Uh, problem? I kept using it sharp side down,” Cider responded, completely confident in his past uses of hammers, and slightly offended at Fern’s response.
Arthur Fern, another scientist at Hanford, is optimistic, focused, and charismatic. He is private and level-headed, even in the most stressful of situations. He is surprisingly optimistic for his time and occupation as well, which comforts some and puts others off. He believes that the war will end within a few months, but also believes that his work will continue after the war is over. He is also known to frequent the local bar with Cider, Lemon, Hazel, and Indigo, albeit he doesn’t drink as heavily as some of the others do. He is also an avid golfer.
Steel, content with his findings, stepped out of the office to speak with the others.
“Hello everyone,” Steel paused for the group to turn their attention to him.
"Jessie Hazel has been murdered," Steel announced solemnly. The group gasped collectively as if they had prepared for this very gasp for some time.
"And there have been no goings-in or out since this morning," Steel continued, "So it is likely, that the killer is," he paused for dramatic effect, "Among Us." The group gasped even more dramatically this time, some coughed because of the aggressiveness of their gasp. Some colorful exclamations followed, as well as some rushed questions that were repeatedly talked over.
“Time of death is approximately, mmmmmm like, I dunno, five minutes ago or something,” Steel stated, incorrectly.
“Are we off the clock now?” asked Diane Orchid.
Diane Orchid is a kind, sensitive, and almost air-headed scientist at Hanford. She has the unfortunate defense mechanism of staying willfully ignorant of her surroundings when stressed. More notably unfortunate is that she works at a nuclear processing plant during a world war, and often has dissonant values with her work and the effects of her work. She loves the science dearly but often struggles with the human aspects of it. She wears a scarf that has incredibly frayed edges, almost to the point of tatters, but it's a comfort item for her.
Much like Orchid, the other scientists weren’t too worried about the bloodied corpse that was now helping with paperwork. The scientists continued doing said paperwork for an obscene amount of time, completely unaware that it was not as relevant to the plot as they thought. This agitated Mint, the nuclear waste specialist.
“I spent eleven months working on this, and you’re still doing the fucking paperwork ?” Mint exhorted.
“You do it!” replied Shirley Silver.
“I’ve done it ! Someone’s dead !” Mint responded, quite flustered at this point.
“What was the murder weapon, a knife?” asked Silver.
“A bomb, perhaps?” suggested Orchid, not seeing that if it was a bomb that killed Hazel, they all would likely be dead.
Shirley Silver is a military scientist at Hanford. Unlike the other civilian scientists, she had exhaustive training in her field. She was incredibly adaptable, reliable, and patriotic. Meaningful work was one of her core values, so Hazel’s lack of protocol was certainly a point of anxiety for her. She’s been in her career long enough to know she should be farther ahead based on how hard she works, but she’s a woman in the second world war. As she sees the war coming to a close, she wonders if she’ll be wanted at the same level, or expected to go back to standard womanly duties.
“I-I can’t believe that you’re not focusing on the dead guy,” Mint continued.
“Whatever!” remarked Steel,
“What are we supposed to do about it? Bring him back to life?” countered Mulberry.
Alan Mulberry, another scientist at Hanford, is independent, neat, and the poster child for American patriotism during World War II. He was quite the conformist and would report anyone for anything that falls out of line. He heavily appreciates similar qualities in other people and goes out of his way to acknowledge hard work when he sees it. He does unfortunately get jealous easily.
“Right then, Merlot, may I have a moment with you?” asked Steel.
Yvonne Merlot is one of the many immigrant scientists at Hanford. She is elegant, observant, and empathetic, but unfortunately too many parties. Merlot, being from Moscow, Russia, has many associates who are quite closely aligned with communism. Nowadays, I personally encourage communism, but in the mid-twentieth century, it was better to keep those ideals to yourself, especially in the United States. This public knowledge resulted in some harassment towards Merlot. Regardless of this harassment, she continued to voice her loyalty to the U.S. and kept her spirits high.
“Do you know Russian, Merlot?” questioned Steel. Merlot paused.
“I do, I have dual citizenship,” responded Merlot. Steel produced a crumpled note from his inner-blazer pocket.
“At the scene of the crime, the murderer left a note, and I was wondering if you would be willing to translate,” Steel handed the note to Merlot.
“Yes, of course,” Merlot held the note and began to realize that it was, in fact, “real Russian” that was on that note.
"I will check in with you in a bit," Steel walked off to continue his interrogations, leaving Merlot to ponder how to translate this note, if she did not learn Russian for this event. Mint consoled her and said that it will all be revealed and that he, himself, also did not know Russian.
Delores Cornflower is a scientist at Hanford. She is kind, understanding, and cheerful, but her cheerfulness is often a facade. She is a nihilist and often worries that the war will escalate and end humanity and all that. She is quite in tune with her emotions and often asks Merlot for emotional support when needed.
At this moment, Cornflower was having a panic attack about Hazel’s death.
After Cornflower had calmed down after a period of Merlot’s consoling, both of them began to talk about what they had seen earlier that day.
“If I remember correctly, I did see that Mr. Fern went into Hazel’s office before Hazel did,” Merlot muttered to Cornflower, who was attentive to this information.
“I did also see Mr. Lemon go that direction as well, right before he asked Steel to come and see the body,” Merlot continued. The two continued to gossip and theorize for a bit while Steel continued with interrogations.
“So, what do you do here at Hanford, and how well did you know Hazel?” questioned Steel.
“I, uh, have the same clearance levels as the scientists but maybe-maybe not the same clear head as the scientists,” Cider began, motioning his hands around his head in a flowy motion, emulating smoke, “So, I worked a lot with my hands, and doing that I knew a lot of the inner machinery of the reactor, and so I had a lot of talks with the boss.”
“You said earlier that you and a few others would frequently drink together, correct?” continued Steel.
“After work, yeah. I very much like Jessie Hazel and I respect him a lot as a leader. And that never turned sour, he never made me angry, there were bar fights at the counter, sure. But definitely no anger between me or Lorrie or even Art. We all just hung out at the bar and we had fun,” Cider affirmed, nodding his head as he remembered. Steel seemed content with his findings, and continued on interrogations.
“Silver, what are your opinions on Hazel?” asked Steel
“I did not like Hazel very much, but I don’t remember why,” Silver responded, leaning over to grab her paperwork for reference. “Oh right, his lack of protocol aggravated me a lot,” Silver smiled slightly as she said this, proud of remembering her opinion on Hazel, not realizing that smiling at such an incriminating thing could be detrimental to her.
“Shirley, come with me,” Steel motioned Silver to come to a quieter part of the office.
“Do you think you’d ever go so far as to,” Steel paused a moment, “...kill?”
“Me, a killer?” Silver said surprised, followed by an amused and slightly nervous laugh that the others heard from across the room.
“It’s not that funny dear,” Steel calmly assured, slightly concerned.
"It's pretty funny if you know me," Silver nodded her head. In a past life, she was charged with manslaughter and first-degree murder.
"Alright, you're free to go for now," Steel sighed. Upon her release, Silver was greeted by the rest of the group emulating her forced laughter from earlier, which she embraced.
“See, you guys get it,” Silver smiled. Steel shook his head.
“Alright, Lawrence Lemon,” Steel said. The others happily clamored at the mention of Lemon. Steel took him aside for questioning.
“So, Lawrence, you were first to find Hazel, correct?” asked Steel.
“It seems like it, yes,” Lemon was quite nervous at the idea of having to share the crime scene photos, and then subsequently nervous at being outwardly nervous.
“Did you see anything suspicious, or took any photos while you were there that could help us see the crime scene undisturbed?” Steel clearly saw Lemon’s nervousness.
Goddamn it, thought Lemon. He was truly fine with showing the photographs to the rest of the group, but the thought of the photos being outside of Hanford petrified him.
“Yeah, I did take a few photos when I stepped in,” Lemon hesitated, “But I won’t be able to process them. I have other photos from the reactor on this reel and I wouldn't want them to go out to the press,” Lemon rushed.
“Lemon, we are within a top-secret government facility. There is no way the regular police are going to get their grubby hands on it to give it to the press. They can’t help us here even if they wanted to,” Steel assured. This eased Lemon a bit. They talked about lighter topics for a moment before Steel let Lemon go.
“Indigo, be honest, are you the murderer?” Cornflower inquisitively asked.
The audio quality was apparently not the best for Indigo, as he responded with a fairly delayed “What?”.
At this moment, Mulberry was having difficulties with his tie, and it took most of the office to re-tie it properly. This took an exorbitant amount of time.
“Mulberry, may I have a moment?” asked Steel after Mulberry’s tie was finally properly tied.
“How did you personally feel about Hazel?” questioned Steel. Mulberry paused as to best assess how to answer the question.
"I certainly wasn't pleased with him most of the time," Mulberry began. "His approach to the protocol was less than ideal , however, he was a strong leader who took care of his people," Mulberry knew that his disdain for Hazel was public.
“Other than protocol, was there anything else that bothered you about him?” Steel continued.
“I guess not much now that I think about it, but he certainly was far too relaxed for this job,” Mulberry stated.
“Interesting,” Steel dismissed Mulberry. Mulberry reentered the rest of the group, who were all working on solving the case. Some were suggesting that Sheriff Steel himself was the killer, and quite vocally voiced their opinions.
“I don’t trust men with southern accents,” Silver declared.
"That's bigoted and you know it!" retorted Steel, almost subconsciously.
“Well how can we trust you, then?” responded Silver.
“Within my entire career, I’ve only had one case that’s gone cold,” Steel began, “Fifteen years ago, a little girl by the name of Virginia Damascus was murdered. She was nine years old,” Steel stared off slightly into space. That space was filled with the ghost of Hazel.
“Why are you staring at a dead person?” Hazel said, slightly concerned that Steel was making eye contact.
“I’ve been haunted by it ever since,” Steel stated, unrelated to what Hazel was saying. The group tentatively asked a few questions about his past case, some of them were horrifically bad with calculating Damascus’ age if she were alive now, but otherwise were very respectful. Steel began recounting the facts of the crime.
"Firstly, Hazel has been stabbed, if it wasn't evident," Steel started. "Unfortunately, there was no weapon at the scene," Steel paused. "Hazel's knife is also missing, meaning it is most likely the murder weapon or related to the crime.
“There was also a note at the scene,” Steel displayed the note for the group. “It seems to be written in Russian. Merlot has been working on translating it for a while at this point,”
“ For a while ?” Mulberry said, accusingly. “She is Russian. She should be able to just read it off and figure it out. She is clearly the murderer, she’s stalling,” Mullberry said aggressively.
“I emigrated here when I was a child. My parents and my schools taught me English,” Merlot responded back with the same tone. “I only know household terms, I’ve been using this dictionary for the past fifteen minutes!” she was gesturing assertively with an English-to-Russian dictionary in her hand. Their argument continued at the same level for a few minutes more. The others could only stand back and watch, lest they get involved. Orchid was shaking.
“I did it,” Orchid said, quietly, but loud enough for the other two to stop arguing. She stuttered a few syllables. The tears in her eyes were vibrating along with her shaking. Steel noticed something off with this confession.
"Orchid," Steel started, "Are you alright?" Orchid attempted to defend herself and then sighed.
“May I see your knife?” Steel said calmly. She handed over her utility knife, which was perfectly polished steel, about an inch and a half long. Steel looked at his reflection in the knife, then closed it.
“Did you like Hazel?” Steel asked. She nodded her head. Steel thought. “Did his protocol tendencies bother you?” She nodded her head, less this time. “Certainly not enough to kill him, though,” She nodded her head again, letting out a sob.
“It’s a difficult thing–fear. Especially mixed with complaisance, it can lead to drastic measures,” Steel began.
“She didn’t do it,” the others were understandably confused. “She confessed to resolve the argument. She thought well enough of Hazel not to kill him,” Steel walked around.
“Her knife was also far too small, it would have taken a considerable amount of time to kill Hazel with it, and if she did, she wouldn’t be able to overpower him for that long.” Steel redirected back to the Russian note. He paused and attempted to read it.
“Well, what does it say?” asked Lemon.
“Shit’s Russian,” he shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m from the middle of nowhere America, you think I speak two languages? And a commie one at that?” Steel looked back at Lemon as if he had gone insane for thinking Steel knew what the note said.
“What if we all work on it? Maybe we can piece it together?” suggested Winter.
“Hmm,” thought Steel, “Sounds rather like communism to me.” The group thought for a while, pouring over possibilities and motives.
“Was anybody romantically involved with the boss?” asked Merlot.
“Yes-I better see everyone’s hands raised ,” said Hazel. Everyone nodded their heads. While the others continued to puzzle over the situation, Cider got up to get another coffee, as his hangover was not helping much with the investigation. He motioned for Fern to help him up, and as he did, Cider inadvertently knocked Fern’s folder out of his hands.
“Oh–my deepest apologies my good sir,” Cider unenthusiastically bent back down and helped to put the files back in the folder. Most likely, Cider was not paying enough attention, but from separate sides of the room, Silver and Winter both saw a largely printed emboldened “CLEARANCE LEVEL A” on a few of the files. Silver motioned for Steel to look at the papers as well.
“Fern,” Steel paused, “You’re also an immigrant, correct?”
“I am a European immigrant, yes,” responded Fern.
“From where?” Steel continued.
“I dunno,” Fern shrugged his shoulders. I guess leaving character details up to interpretation had some fallbacks. “From Sweden,” Fern said, hesitantly at first, “I’m. From. Sweden,” he said more confidently now, high-fiving his friends.
“Have you traveled to Russia in the past?” asked Steel.
“I have family in Leningrad, but I’ve only visited them before the wars,” responded Fern. Merlot looked up at him, a slow wave of concern and deep thought came over her face. Steel readjusted himself and walked to the center of the group, hands folded behind his back.
“I have my eyes on three of you. Alan Mulberry, known disdain for Hazel’s protocol, most–” Steel tentatively paused, “ – confrontational person in the office.
"Shirley Silver also had a known disliking of Hazel's policies and has had rigorous military training.
“And Arthur Fern, one of the boys!–”
“One of the boys!” Fern pumped his hands in the air.
"I'm going to pat you down if you don't mind," Steel said.
“Miranda rights, bitch,” said Fern.
“Those haven't been invented yet,” responded Steel. He got up and began patting down Fern. He pulled a utility knife out of Fern’s pocket.
"This doesn't seem to be the knife you came in here with if I remember right," Steel questioned.
“No, the other one was my golf knife,” Fern said.
“Golf–knife?” Steel asked, disoriented from the response.
“Yeah, my golf knife,”
"And what does one do with a 'golf knife'," Steel said slowly. Fern looked confused by his response.
“Golf.” Fern said assuredly. Steel continued to pat Fern down, with more vigor this time.
“Hope you are doing well in the States,” Merlot announced, reading off of the now translated Russian note. Everyone paused, especially Fern who was mid-pat down.
“Reminder that your objective is to obtain nuclear intelligence and bring it back to Leningrad. Remain undercover, but do what you must to gather this information. Most personnel will have valuable information, look for ones who are hardworking and who have a high turnout of information, like head scientist Jessie Hazel,” the members looked around, now realizing that a Russian spy had infiltrated the office and killed Hazel. Merlot’s face had sharpened with barely controlled fury. She looked over and made eye contact with the killer.
“Keep this country glorious, Fern,” Merlot walked over to him and began whisper-yelling the most heinous of insults at him in Russian.
Cursing counts as household terms. Fern simply stood there as she berated him.
And he understood every word she said.
After Merlot’s wrath was served, and Fern’s entire past and future family had been cursed up and down, Fern took a deep breath and spoke calmly to the group.
"My dearest friends and close companions," Fern's face was calm but had a wall of forlorn defeat behind his eyes.
“It is with my deepest regrets to inform you all that I was responsible for the murder of Mr. Jessie Hazel. I admit that my initial intention in approaching all of you was in the interest of my home nation of Russia. During my training as an intelligence agent, I was instructed by no uncertain means never to be caught in my duty. I was not to condemn Russia to death by capitalist hands. If this meant I must take lives, I was told to take them gladly in the name of Stalin. I realize now that my actions have cost a life, especially a life that affected so many. I have betrayed all of you. I do not expect any of you to forgive me. If I were you, I would not.
“I hope for all of your sakes that our paths never cross again. I hope in the next life I can do better. That blood will no longer stain my hands.
“Thank you for the kindness you have shown me. In my meager years left to live, I will never forget it,” a silence surrounded Fern for a few moments.
“So–wait so he is the murderer?” asked Orchid.
“Yeah it was me, I killed him,” Fern shrugged. Steel clapped his hand on Fern’s shoulder.
“You son of a bitch, you’re going to jail,” Steel chuckled while handcuffing Fern.
“I always wanted to retire early I guess,” Fern jested.
* * * * *
Fern surrendered himself peacefully to arrest that day and was later charged in front of a court with espionage and first-degree murder. He lived out his two life sentences in his cell in the United States Federal Prison until his death. Russia learned of his capture after the war. It is estimated that Russian Intelligence saved the Soviets up to two years of effort in atomic bomb development.
Diane Orchid quit working for the government following the tragic events of the war and became an elementary school teacher. She spent the rest of her life teaching the next generation until peacefully retiring. Her work haunted her waking thoughts every day.
Yvonne Merlot also quit working for the government once their contract terminated, and went on to work at a small European immigrant-owned bakery. They were a customer favorite for many years and often gave free samples to new guests. They remained loyal to the United States for the rest of their life.
Martin Cider quit working for the government the moment the war was declared over. He joined a jazz band that played gigs at nightlife clubs for drinks. He enjoyed the simple life.
Lawrence Lemon continued working as a photographer for the government until he retired, although he took up much more mundane projects after the Manhattan Project. He continued photography as a hobby well into retirement and is well noted in the community for his form and style.
Delores Cornflower quit her job in the government and became a poet and writer in her free time. She was known to do readings at coffee shops and open mics, and her works were enjoyed for their worldly feel and deep thought. She lived with her longtime partner until they both passed of old age.
Alan Mulberry continued working for the government and was promoted several times for his notable achievements. He was highly regarded in his field of study and retired with respect.
Hazel fuckin died like three hours ago idk what you want me to say.
Shirley Silver continued working for the military and received a medal of first honors for her contribution to the war effort, as well as a higher salary moving forward. The war brought her opportunity, and in that time she rose in the ranks and was treated with respect even by those with much higher ranks than her.
Oscar Steel went back to Benton County to continue his work as the local sheriff. A few years after the war, there was a lead on his old cold case, and the people responsible were brought to justice. He kept his community safe and retired without regrets at a respectable age.
Jack Indigo continued to be one of the best receptionists of the century. He was known by many young receptionists as a figure to look up to, a leader of the paper-pushing world. He took care of his coworkers and retired well with his partner.
Irene Winter quit working for the government and went on to work as a university physics teacher. She inspired a new generation of young women to love science and physics and won multiple teaching awards.
The war was unofficially declared over a few days after the Nagasaki bombing, on August 12th, 1945, and formally ended on September 2nd, 1945. Almost immediately after World War 2 ended, the Cold War began.
But that is for another decade.