Free Triple by Ken Follett

accepted his offer of coffee. They spoke
    French. Dickstein was accredited to the Paris office of an obscure
    journal called Science International. He told Pfaffer that it was his
    ambition to get a job on Scientific A merican
    Pfaffer asked him, "Exactly what are you writing about at
    the moment?" I
    "The article is called 'MUF."' Dickstein explained in English, "Material
    Unaccounted For." He went on, "In the United States radioactive fuel is
    continually getting lost Here
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    in Europe, rm told, there's an international system for keeping track of
    all such material."
    "Correct," Pfaffer said. "The member countries hand over control of
    fissile substances to Euratom. We have, first of all, a complete list of
    civilian establishments where stocks are hold-from mines through
    preparation and fabrication plants, stores, and reactors, to reprocessing
    plants."
    "You said civilian establishments."
    "Yes. The military are outside our scope."
    "Go on." Dickstein. was relieved to get Pfaffer talking before the press
    officer had a chance to realize how limited was Dickstein's knowledge of
    these subjects.
    "As an example," Pfaffer continued, "take a factory making fuel elements
    from ordinary yellowcake. The raw material coming into the factory is
    weighed and analyzed by Euratom. inspectors. Their findings are
    programmed into the Euratom computer and checked against the information
    from the inspectors at the dispatching installation-in this case,
    probably a uranium mine. If there is a discrepancy between the quantity
    that left the dispatching installation and the quantity that arrived at
    the factory, the computer will say so. Similar measurements are made of
    the material leaving the factory--quantity and quality. These figures
    will in turn be checked against information supplied by inspectors at the
    premises where the fuel is to be used-a nuclear power station, probably.
    In addition, all waste at the factory is weighed and analyzed.
    "This process of inspection and double-checking is carried on up to and
    including the final disposal of radioactive wastes. Finally, stocktaking
    is done at least twice a year at the factory."
    "I see." Dickstein looked impressed and felt desperately discouraged. No
    doubt Pfaffer was exaggerating the efficiency of the system-but even if
    they made half the checks they were supposed to, how could anyone spirit
    away one hundred tons of yellowcake without their computers noticing? To
    keep Pfaffer talking, he said, "So, at any given moment, your computer
    knows the location of every scrap of uranium in Europe.
    "Within the member countries-France, Germany, Italy, Belgium, the
    Netherlands and Luxembourg. And Ws not just uranium, ifs all radioactive
    material."
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Ken Folleff
    "What about details of transportation?"
    "All have to be approved by us."
    Dickstein closed his notebook. "It sounds like a good system. Can I see it
    in operation?"
    "Mat wouldn't be up to us. You'd have to contact the atomic energy
    authority in the member country and ask permission to visit an
    installation. Some of them do guided tours."
    "Can you let me have a list of phone numbers?"
    "Certainly." Pfaffer stood up and opened a filing cabinet
    Dickstein had solved one problem only to be confronted with another. He had
    wanted to know where he could go to find out the location of stockpiles of,
    radioactive material, and he now had the answer: Euratom's computer. But an
    the uranium the computer knew about was subject to the rigorous monitoring
    system, and therefore extremely difficult to steal. Sitting in the untidy
    little office, watching the smug Herr Pfaffer rummage through his old press
    releases, Dickstein thought: If only you knew whats in my- mind, little
    bureaucrat, yoxfd have a blue fit; and he suppressed a grin and felt a
    little more cheerful.
    Pfaffer handed him a cyclostyled leaflet. Dickstein folded it and put it in
    his pocket. He said, "Thank you for your help."
    Pfaffer said, "Where are