July 7, 1945

General Blankenship idly finished reading the morning edition of the Washington Post, where one story dominated the headlines. Truman Leaves For Potsdam Summit. He then looked back at the latest Manhattan Project information from Secretary of War Henry Stimson and let out a mild chuckle. The motion of events was starting to pick up.

His phone buzzed and he promptly answered it, "Yes, Etta?"

"Colonel Trevor and Wonder Woman are here, sir."

"Good, send them in."

The door to Blankenship's office opened and Steve entered, followed by Wonder Woman, who wore an American flag design cape over her costume.

"Steve," the general took only a brief instant shaking Steve's hand and then moved over to Wonder Woman, "And Wonder Woman it's good to see you again. It's been too long."

"It's always an honor, sir." she smiled warmly.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," he motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk, "And I'll try to bring you up to date on what the Manhattan Project is all about."

"I'm very interested in knowing," she said, "From what Steve tells me, it will mean not having to invade the Japanese mainland."

Blankenship nodded, "That's what we're counting on," he said, "Has Steve told you exactly what kind of weapon it is?"

"No, he hasn't," she looked over at Steve and smiled.

"I told her that procedure dictated it come from you, General," Steve returned her smile.

The general smiled as well, "I'll try to explain it as best as I can. Before I do, I should ask you if you're familiar with the principal of developing the power of the atom."

"Of course," she said, "I'm familiar with what happened at Chicago three years ago, when the first nuclear reaction took place. Atomic energy can one day serve many needs."

"Indeed," said Blankenship, "And the first need it's going to serve is ending the war."

It took Wonder Woman almost a minute to grasp the general's words. When it finally sunk in, a cloud passed over her face.

"General," she said as evenly as she could, "Are you telling me that the Manhattan Project is an atomic weapon?"

The general nodded slowly, "We've had a team of scientists and men developing it for the last three years in the utmost secrecy. Our first concern was beating the Germans to it. Now, we need it to avoid going ahead with the invasion of Japan."

Wonder Woman's expression hardened into one of disbelief. Uneasily, Steve shot a glance at her and began to absently chew on his thumbnail.

"General," her neutral voice belied her expression, "Do you intend to directly use this weapon against Japan?"

"That's what it looks like," Blankenship said, "The test takes place on July 16. If it goes off all right, then Japan will be given a final ultimatum of unconditional surrender at the end of the Potsdam summit. If Japan refuses, then we plan to go ahead with aerial drops on pre-selected targets."

"I see," Wonder Woman nodded in understanding, but her expression remained somewhat dubious, "And what is to become of these weapons once the war is over?"

Blankenship shrugged, "That, I wouldn't know anything about."

"But General," she protested slightly, "Surely the people who've made this weapon possible realize the danger of letting this weapon become mass-produced. I recognize fully the need to use it on a one-time only basis to end the war, but if our leaders are contemplating this as the start of developing a full-scale atomic arsenal..." she trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Blankenship seemed puzzled by her reaction, while Steve began to uncomfortably slouch in his chair.

"Wonder Woman," the general said gently, "I haven't the vaguest notion of what role atomic weapons will play in the post-war world. But I do know, that if they work we can't ever put the genie back in the bottle. The capability will exist for anyone to develop it, including potential enemies. No one who's worked on this project seriously thinks that when the war is over, we can just burn all the blueprints and forget that it ever existed."

"I-" she started and then broke off, sighed and tried to start over, "General, Steve, I want to apologize for the way I'm acting. It's just that I've long been aware of what the power of nuclear energy released in a weapon can do, and all I can see is a recurring image of mass destruction. If these weapons are to become the norm in warfare from now on, the consequences would be horrifying for all of humanity."

"I doubt very much that you'll ever see atom bombs used with the same regularity as conventional weapons," the general tried to inject a note of reassurance, "My understanding is that if the world's nuclear stockpile can't be placed under some form of international control, then it will in all probability become a weapon of last resort, as it’s being used now."

"I wish I could be convinced of that, General," she said sadly, "But it will be some time before I can come to term with these doubts I'm feeling."

She then straightened herself and her voice tried to regain an upbeat tone, "But I realize that's all in the future and that the immediate concern is using it to end the war. And I'd be most honored to witness the test and put in an appearance for the soldiers stationed there."

"I'm glad to hear that," Blankenship smiled and seemed to relax, "I can't attend the test myself, but you and Steve will be leaving on the 12th for Albuquerque. You'll be staying with the other VIP's who've been invited to witness the test. The general tour will take up the next three days, the personal appearance for the men on the 15th, and the test on the 16th."

"That will be fine," Wonder Woman smiled, "I'll be looking forward to it."

"I'm sure you'll find the experience most illuminating," the general rose, "I have to leave now for a meeting with General Marshall. In the meantime, I want to say again how much we appreciate your coming. And I know I'm speaking for the entire War Department when I tell you that you have our eternal gratitude for everything you've done for the war effort. Hopefully, we'll be able to give you some proper recognition for all that, sometime in the future."

"That means a lot to me, General," Wonder Woman seemed touched, "Just knowing that I was able to do my job in helping America destroy the evil of Nazism for all time. No further honors are necessary."

"They will be," Blankenship wryly smiled as he shook hands with her, "They will be." and after shaking hands with Steve, he left the office.

Alone, Steve slowly turned around and looked at her. The dark cloud of unease had returned to her face.

"Diana," he said gently, "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll be fine," her voice was abrupt, "I'll be fine."

"You had me worried for a minute," he said.

"Steve," she looked up at him, "Right now, I don't want to talk about it. I--" she broke off and uneasily exhaled, "Steve, I know we agreed on lunch, but I think I'd rather go back to my apartment for awhile. I need to think."

Steve looked stunned.

"I'll, I'll call you later, I--"

"Diana," he interrupted gently, trying to conceal the hurt in his voice, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Diana frowned, "I don't understand."

"Colonel Dietrich Bolle," he said patiently, "Or have you changed your mind?"

She flushed in embarrassment, "Oh God, no Steve. No. No, I won't leave you. I, I'm sorry about that."

"Forget it," he said with a trace of sadness, "I think maybe for your sake, you should go back to your apartment. I'll be fine."

"No, Steve," she clasped his hand, "Forgive me. I just got distracted. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right," his voice returned to its gentle, soothing tone, "I'm sorry I got on you for that."

But inside, Steve still felt an enormous sense of unease. If the Manhattan Project could rattle her to the point of forgetting about Bolle, then what might happen later on?

An answer he didn't want to consider popped into the back of his mind. He quickly pushed it away, and tried to bury it, hoping he never had to consider again.

But the answer that Steve did not want to consider, was all that raged through Diana's mind that night, as she lay alone in the guest bedroom of Steve's apartment, sprawled out on the bed.

Time and again, she thought of the story of Pandora, that her mother had told her about many times during her childhood. The story of the foolish girl who'd opened the box that unleashed the forces of evil on the world, and had been unable to put them back in. She felt now, as if she were living through a present day parallel to the story.

In addition to that, she found the doubts that she'd thought she'd conquered, returning. If mankind was about to unleash this terror of atomic weapons on the world, then how could she justify her belief that man was moving forward, away from the ways of war and barbarism? Even if the weapons were developed by good men in the United States, could they effectively safeguard them from falling into the hands of evil?

She could hear her mother's voice. That soft, regal voice that had been her only source of knowledge for more than 2000 years, telling her that the answer was no. The history of man showed time and again, that the evil, warlike side of man was always stronger. Perhaps not strong enough to let those like Hitler endure, but strong enough to bring them to power at least. And in a new world of such terrible weapons of destructive power, would there be any chance for the forces of good to defeat the next Hitler? Would the rise of a new Hitler be enough to set forward the very end of humanity itself, in a war waged exclusively with atomic weapons?

There's nothing you can do about it, Diana, she heard Hippolyte's voice echo in her mind. There's nothing you can do. Man will use these terrible weapons to fight wars that you will never be able to prevent. Wars that will finally see man's martial aggressiveness finally destroy himself. Your place is not with them. Your place is with your sisters on Paradise Island, where we will preserve the ways of peace and harmony for eternity.

She looked up at the ceiling, and she found herself clutching the sheets with her hands, as she wrestled with the tension in her mind, heart, and soul.

Diana glanced over at the end table, and noticed Steve's Bible that she'd been reading in her spare time. She'd always been fascinated by the Judeo-Christian religion more than any of the others she had studied. There had even been fleeting moments when she’d wondered if it was possible for an Amazonian like herself to embrace it as her own. Whether as a Christian who accepted Jesus Christ as the Messiah, or as a Jew who did not, she wasn't sure, but certainly as one who believed in the idea of a single God who had created the world and was in ultimate control of human history. Granted, it was so far from the religion she'd been brought up with, but Diana found it remarkable that its basic core philosophy had been able to endure in the world for so long. Embodied by a philosophy of peace and love not too dissimilar from her own, particularly in the phrase, "Blessed are the peacemakers."

But now, as she questioned her desire to stay in America, she now questioned her reasons for doubting the reality of the Greco-Roman polytheism of her people, centered around Aphrodite. The test of a religion was its ability to endure, she had said. But maybe it hadn't been able to endure because of mankind's corruptness in the world he controlled. Maybe mankind didn't worship at the altar of Ares anymore, but perhaps he still did his bidding. Maybe the truth could only have endured on Paradise Island, the center of higher knowledge.

As Diana thought more about Paradise Island, she found herself closing her eyes and smiling as memories of her home came back to her. Memories that had grown dim in the last three years, but now seemed vivid. Happy memories of the home she loved. The home where she could escape from the evil and fear of the world.

But then Diana bolted upright and opened her eyes as another thought entered her mind. Steve. What about Steve? The man she loved. The man for whom she'd have gladly given up Paradise Island. The man she wanted to marry, and have children with.

Her love for Steve felt just as intense as it had before. But now, with her doubts about the future, could she make him happy as his wife? Would she be forcing herself to endure a life of misery, filled with homesickness for Paradise Island and depression about the future, and in the end destroying the love they felt?

Questions, questions. Unending questions. Questions she'd never wanted to confront, but now threatened to destroy her unless she answered them soon.

She folded her hands as if she wanted to pray, but then realized that she didn't know who to pray to. To Aphrodite, the sacred goddess of her people, whose existence she doubted but who nonetheless embodied the values she felt closer too? Or to the mysterious single God, who embodied values that seemed irreconcilable with the evil that existed in the world?

As if to seek temporary comfort from that set of questions, she began reciting the prayers to Aphrodite she'd been taught as a child, only because it was the only way she knew how to pray. "Help me," she whispered again and again when she was through, "Help me know what is right."

In the other room, Steve sat at his desk trying to chase the unease from his mind, and finding that it only made him dwell on it even more.

Finally, like Diana, he closed his eyes and prayed, but with the confident serenity of a faith he'd known all his life. "Lord Jesus," he whispered, "Right now, the woman I love, the woman I believe You have led me to, is troubled. Even though she is not a believer, I ask that You show her Your divine love and guidance, and help her to ease the doubts that I know she feels. Help her to realize, as I have, the peace that comes in knowing that You are in ultimate control of the world. All this I pray, in Your name, Amen."

And then, he too, turned off the light and went to bed.

At the same moment that Steve and Diana honored their religions and went to sleep, Dietrich Bolle was wide awake aboard the first leg of a Pan Am flight from Washington to Albuquerque, offering no prayers to a God he had never believed in.

For the tenth time, he glanced at his reflection in the window, marveling at how different he looked. The moustache was gone now, and the grayish hair dyed to its original black color. Without question, it made him look fifteen years younger, almost like an innocent schoolboy.

But inside, the determined venom that had made him one of the most ruthless officers in the SS, still raged. And how he was going to be able to channel it to work for the Russians with a clear conscience, he still had no idea.

For now though, he had no choice but to go through the motions of helping the Russians. But sooner or later, he'd find a way to get back at the only target he was interested in. Colonel Steve Trevor and that infernal bitch called Wonder Woman. Then maybe, with his thirst for revenge satisfied, he could finally look ahead with a clear conscience.

But for now, as he looked out the window at the nighttime landscape and finished his drink, his immediate concern lay with a scientist from inside the Manhattan Project, with whom he would try to make first contact with sometime tomorrow.