by Bobby Akart
She began to shake her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” asked Gunner.
She roughly set the camera on the table and slid it toward him. “See for yourself.”
Gunner looked puzzled and shrugged. He passed the camera on to Bear, who was reaching across the table for it.
“Mining equipment?” asked Bear. “We almost died seven times to get video of mining equipment? That’s the dumbest thing ever.”
Gunner tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought. “Maybe not.”
“Why?” asked Cam.
Gunner was about to answer when Mr. Waters entered the room. “Good news, people. Your ride is already here. Wrap it up.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Bear as he quickly pushed away from the table. He led the way with Gunner and Cam chasing behind. All of them were looking forward to getting back to the beach.
Chapter 44
Tuesday, April 10
CNN Studios
Atlanta, Georgia
“The easiest way is to set a large rocket on a collision course with this killer asteroid and call it a day,” said famed science commentator and television personality Dr. Bill Whitney. Then he shook his head and added, “But what a waste that would be.”
There had been virtually nonstop news coverage of IM86 since the 60 Minutes report followed by the president’s address from the Oval Office. A revolving door of astrophysicists, nuclear weapons experts, astronauts, and political pundits made the rounds, providing insight as to how to deal with the threat. Interspersed between solutions, as had been the norm for decades, the blame game was on full display as politicians did their level best to find a boogeyman on Earth for the threat hurtling toward them from space.
CNN host Megyn Kelly stood in front of a large monitor with a blown-up image of IM86, digitally modified to brighten its otherwise dark appearance. Superimposed in the background was a view of Earth from space, complete with a bull’s-eye on top of North America. Kelly turned to the camera as the previously taped interview with Dr. Whitney paused for a moment. Her demeanor was dour and emotional as she spoke.
“Nobody saw this coming. An asteroid over a mile wide could soon shatter our planet’s atmosphere with a deafening bang, strike somewhere, anywhere it chooses, leaving a crater in the surface with the energy of several million nuclear bombs.
“Millions of people will be incinerated instantaneously. Those who aren’t will succumb to the aftermath of the blast as molten debris is ejected into the atmosphere, reaching far into Earth’s orbit, raining fire from above to destroy almost all life below.
“Does this sound like the preview of a Netflix made-for-TV movie? Am I being overdramatic or sensationalistic? Dr. Bill Whitney doesn’t think so. In fact, I’m paraphrasing his words from an interview conducted on this network over a decade ago in which he stated that an asteroid impact like I’ve just described, while unlikely, is plausible nonetheless and would spell the end for humanity as we know it.”
Kelly walked closer to the camera and approached the host’s desk, where Dr. Whitney sat in the guest’s seat, casually crossing his legs as the camera brought him into view. He was wearing a blue and white seersucker suit topped off with a bow tie. Nearing eighty, Dr. Whitney was still called upon often when major scientific events were in the news.
“Dr. Whitney, welcome back.”
“Thank you, Megyn.”
“Prior to your coming on with me today, I replayed that interview from fifteen years ago and couldn’t help but think how prophetic it was. Do catastrophic events like this keep you up at night?”
Dr. Whitney laughed and then clasped his hands in front of him. “Admittedly, Megyn, when you’re a scientist, you have a mindset that is open to all possibilities. It’s like being a swimmer with a fear of sharks. It’s the one you don’t see that frightens you the most. That said, as a student of science, and history, I know that a catastrophic event like the one we face with IM86 has happened before, possibly multiple times, and it was sure to happen again. I look at my opinions on these subjects as warnings rather than attempts to be prophetic.”
“Fair enough, Dr. Whitney; however, did you expect to see this in your lifetime?”
“An oft-repeated phrase, one that I coined decades ago, is that an asteroid impact like this one is a low probability event with enormous consequences. The laws of statistics will tell you that the probability of that ball landing thrice in a row on the number twenty-six on the roulette wheel is low probability, but it can happen. The universe is no different. The fact of the matter is, especially since we’ve been in an extended period of increased near-Earth object activity, that IM86 could strike the planet in three weeks, and another one could follow a month later.”
“Wonderful,” quipped Kelly. She furrowed her brow and leaned toward the ordinarily fun-loving and irreverent science commentator. “We know that the thought of a devastating asteroid impact makes for compelling movie scripts, and, as you say, the probability is low, yet here we are. How could this happen? How did IM86 miss being discovered sooner, or was it simply a matter of being past due for the big one, so it was our time?”
Dr. Whitney chuckled and shrugged. “Listen, nobody knows about the unknown, right? It’s an oddly worded phrase that makes sense. We speculate about catastrophic events all the time. Some consider it to be pure fiction; others, like myself, study the science and history and realize they’re probable. That said, the scientific community, bolstered by world governments, has taken steps to identify ninety percent of the potentially catastrophic NEOS, but that leaves ten percent. Simply put, a one-in-ten chance that a planet killer slips past our advanced technology, which is more than enough to be troublesome.”
Kelly continued to quiz Dr. Whitney. “I led this segment with a taped portion of your interview on CNN in which you discussed the use of nuclear weapons as a means to divert or even destroy an asteroid that’s on a collision course with Earth. What is your opinion as to how we should deal with this?”
“Well, there have been numerous scientific studies since I first started to raise awareness of the threat some twenty-five years ago. The Jet Propulsion Laboratory at CalTech has done a magnificent job of creating laboratory simulations, you know, to scale, of how to deflect, divert, or destroy an inbound NEO. However, with our increased focus on establishing a lunar outpost, an admirable endeavor, of course, we abandoned our left flank. In other words, we used our limited budgetary resources to race to the Moon and cast aside the defense of our planet.”
Kelly referred to her notes but then came back to her original question, but was more pointed this time. “I understand there is a lot of debate right now about who’s to blame for missing an asteroid of this size, and many believe it was simply bad luck that IM86 was trailing in the considerable shadow of Comet Oort.”
Dr. Whitney interrupted her. “Megyn, searching for an asteroid is like trying to find a charcoal briquette floating in a dark room. You blindly wave your arms around in hopes of discovering it.”
Kelly laughed. “I understand, however, let me get right to the point. Do you agree with the administration, and the European Space Agency, that we should use this as an opportunity to test alternatives to the use of nuclear weapons in space? Or should we attempt diversion methods first, coupled with some type of mining operation?”
Dr. Whitney became pensive for the first time. It appeared to be a question that he was uncomfortable answering, a rare occurrence for the opinionated, self-proclaimed science guy.
“Megyn, let me answer your question two ways. First, for the benefit of the viewing public. What you may have garnered from movies like Deep Impact and Armageddon—quite successful in the box office, but completely laughable from a scientific perspective—needs to be cast aside. Asteroids are much tougher than we expected. The computer models factor in so many variables—temperature, velocity, mass, material brittleness, etcetera. Opinions vary as to how much energy is
required to divert a massive space rock off its trajectory, much less destroy it. Once that is determined, then our space agency will have to consider the short-timescale fragmentation phase versus the potential long-timescale gravitational reaccumulation phase.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Whitney, but you’ve lost me, and I’m sure more than one viewer is scratching their head right now.”
“Okay, let me boil it down this way,” he continued. “Timing is everything. Even if we could create a nuclear payload large enough to deliver a knockout punch to the most vulnerable points—plural—on the target object, then timing comes into play. Hit it too early, and the gravity of IM86 can pull it back together, except now it would be in many pieces. Hit it late, albeit dangerously close to Earth, and our chances of avoiding the worst of the impact event increase. IM86 would become more of a rubble pile rather than a reconstituted killer.”
Kelly paused and then asked, “Still devastating, I presume?”
“Absolutely, but not extinction level,” he replied. “The impact will be more unpredictable, as well. I mean, frankly, we’d be operating on a wing and a prayer.”
“So, Dr. Whitney, bottom-line it for us. Do you approve of the administration’s proposed orbital slingshot method, followed by a mission to study IM86?”
“I do because—” began Dr. Whitney in response until Kelly placed her hand to her earpiece.
She interrupted his answer. “Dr. Whitney, please, just a moment.” Kelly nodded her head and spoke into her microphone. “Okay. Okay. Bring it up on the screen.”
Dr. Whitney looked puzzled and then he turned his attention to the bank of monitors to Kelly’s right.
“To our viewers at CNN, and CNN International, who are just joining us, we have breaking news. NASA and the Department of Defense are preparing for a press conference at this hour, which sources tell us will involve a mysterious rocket launch in Russia. Our sources tell CNN that the Russians have made an unannounced rocket launch from a remote facility in Eastern Russia. We have no further details at this time, but we are going to take you live to our correspondent at the Pentagon now.”
Chapter 45
Tuesday, April 10
NASA Headquarters
Two Independence Square
Washington, DC
To reach for new heights and reveal the unknown so what we do and learn will benefit all humankind.
The words were stenciled across the wall in the large conference room where the heads of the world’s preeminent space agency met to chart NASA’s course. On this day, however, they were charged with the responsibility of saving it.
“This is a game-changer as far as the president is concerned,” said his chief of staff, Maggie Fielding. She was making a rare appearance outside the White House but found it necessary because the situation was fluid. The time delay associated with NASA compiling the information, creating it in report format, and delivering it to her at the White House was unacceptable. She needed to be in the room with the heads of NASA’s mission directorates as they considered the ramifications of Russia’s rocket launch.
“We understand,” said Jim Frederick, congressman, special advisor to the president, and a former astronaut. He had been nominated by the president to become NASA’s first African-American administrator, but he had not yet been confirmed by the Senate. “From the important intelligence gathered in the last forty-eight hours, coupled with this event, it’s apparent that the Russians intend to explore IM86. The unanswered question remains whether they are attempting any diversion method.”
Fielding stood from her chair and approached a window overlooking E Street. “They’ve cut off all communications with the State Department. We’ve lodged complaints with the United Nations. We’ve tried our usual back-channel options. Hell, we’ve even tried to enlist the assistance of the Chinese. They’ve cut us off completely.”
Frederick calmly took a drink of coffee and provided his opinion. “Well, it’s clear that they’re trying to beat us to IM86. Either they discovered the NEO before we did, or they were prepared for this eventuality and ratcheted up their program, culminating in today’s launch. Regardless, they’re on their way to plant their flag on the surface of this asteroid and claim it for their own.”
Fielding concurred. “That has to be it. If they were going to save the world, they’d be crowing about it. We acted while the United States sat on its hands. The Americans were unprepared, so we did it alone. I can hear it now.”
“It’s all propaganda,” Frederick reminded her. “We can’t stop what their ministry of bullshit says, nor can we influence what people believe. The question we face today is what do we do about it? We had a planned launch of Friday, April 20. Based upon our calculations, it will be the most opportune time to initiate the orbital slingshot because of the asteroid’s proximity to the gravitational pull of the Moon.”
“They’ll be on the surface digging for gold and god knows what else by then!” Fielding shot back in frustration. She took a deep breath and continued. “Listen, the president is not going to sit idly by while the Russians beat us. He ran on a platform of being the preeminent space agency, advancing both our defensive capabilities through the Space Force, and continuing our rapid expansion of Project Artemis on the Moon. This is a chance of a lifetime to mine and explore an asteroid of this size. And the damned Russians are gonna beat us there!”
Frederick didn’t mind taking the heat because he wasn’t responsible for the course that NASA had taken in recent years. But, as he’d learned while in Congress, agency heads, even those who aren’t officially in place yet, serve at the pleasure of the president. It wasn’t unusual for scapegoats to be created and disappear into the night when it was politically expedient.
He turned to the experts, the career employees of NASA. “I have two questions. Is our technology for this mission better than the Russians’? Secondly, how soon can you move up the launch date?”
The room burst into chatter as the administrators began talking to one another and got their aides involved, who were sitting in chairs on the outside perimeter of the large conference room.
Finally, Nola Taylor, the head of the Space Technology Mission Directorate, spoke up. “I can affirmatively state that our program is better suited for both landing and scientific exploration. Ms. Fielding, I want you to keep in mind that placing a space vehicle of any type in the orbit of IM86 is one thing, safely landing on it is another. The Russian rocket delivery system may get them there, but the entry, descent, and landing are a huge challenge for them. Frankly, our technology is far superior.”
The director of Human Exploration and Operations addressed the chief of staff. “Nola’s right. Through our cooperative efforts with SpaceX and Orbital Sciences Corp, we’ve created orbiting labs with unmanned spacecraft that could easily beat the Russians to the surface. Our manned spaceships are second to none, although they are untested.”
“Can you beat them there?” asked Fielding. “That’s the question the president needs answered.”
“We can’t beat them into orbit, but it is possible to beat them to the surface,” he responded.
An older man at the end of the table vigorously shook his head from side to side. “There’s no way. We would have to move our scheduled launch up to Friday to have any chance—”
Frederick interrupted him. “Friday, as in three days? Is that even possible?”
“I don’t think so,” the man responded.
“Well”—Nola Taylor took the floor—“in actuality, it is. We’re laying the groundwork for a launch now. We’ve picked our team to fly the mission. They are the best of the best. We’d have to cut their mission-simulation training short, naturally, but—”
“That’s too risky,” the man interrupted her. “You’re putting lives—”
Chief of Staff Fielding walked toward the gentleman, who abruptly stopped speaking. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Ma’am, my name is Hal Rawlings, chief of the Flight Di
rector Office. I coordinate both launch and mission control.”
Frederick, the acting administrator, who’d had extensive conversations with Rawlings, added, “Ms. Fielding, Chief Rawlings, as we all refer to him by, has been with the agency since he graduated from college. He’s worked in virtually every aspect of NASA’s mission and launch programs. He’s a true legend at NASA. Moreover, he understands NASA operations inside and out.”#
Fielding studied the ex-astronaut-turned-head-of-flight-operations. “If we have the best of the best, as Ms. Taylor has said, and if our technology is superior to the Russians’, why is it too risky to move the launch date up by a week?”
Chief Rawlings calmly sat back in his chair, not intimidated by the chief of staff. “Ma’am, it’s the mental aspect of the mission. There’s tremendous pressure on everyone, from the astronauts to mission control to the people responsible for preparing the launch. You combine that with the fact we’re out to save the world, and the margin for error is extremely thin.”
Fielding was undeterred. She turned to Frederick. “I’m going back to the White House to relay what I’ve been told. I hear your concerns about pressure, but keep in mind, our president holds the fate, the very lives, of more than three hundred million Americans in his hands. If he calls upon you to step up and make this happen, I trust that you’ll be able to do so.”
Without awaiting a response or comment, she stormed out the door with her aides scurrying behind her.
Chapter 46
Five years prior
DeFuniak Springs, Florida
Gunner tried to console his wife as she fought back tears. She’d been training for the better part of a year to be a part of the first manned mission to the Moon in decades. At the last minute, she’d come down with the flu, an unusual occurrence for a young woman who was in excellent physical condition, ate all the perfect foods, and prided herself in treating her body like a temple, as the saying goes. However, flu viruses don’t always differentiate between those with weakened immune systems and someone like Heather, who stayed in the best of shape. All it took was a random cough or sneeze at the grocery store or on an airplane flight, and the bug hit her.