Impact (Fuzed Trilogy Book 1)

by David E Stevens

  After recalculating the impact rate, they discovered impacts big enough to obliterate a city or continent, are 10 times more likely than we thought! It gets worse. There are millions of asteroids but there are billions of cometary objects. Since many comets have surfaces as dark as fresh asphalt, detecting them is almost impossible until too late. 2, 3

  Apocalyptic impacts have happened many times in the past and will again. Dr. Ed Lu, former astronaut and CEO of the B612 Foundation, summed it up. Referring to the Las Vegas truism that “The house always wins,” he said, “We’re not the house.” We now know the odds of dying from an impact are greater than death by lightning, earthquakes or food poisoning. With a year or less to respond, our survival and potentially the survival of most of the life on Earth, depends on having a deflection plan in place. We can develop the technology … but we haven’t.

  Text “Fuzed” to 46786 and we’ll keep you informed of imminent threat activity and only important information on the release of the next book, upcoming movie and game. We won’t share your information or send you pizza coupons, and promise to keep texts to a minimum. There’s no charge and you can shut it off at any time by typing, “STOP.” Do it by May 2017 and you’re automatically entered into a drawing to have a future character named after you, an invite to the set during filming, and a Kindle Fire. Or click www.Fuzed.org/get-involved and enter your email (preferably, not the one you give to car sales managers ;). You can also follow us on Facebook www.facebook.com/FuzedTrilogy.

  We’re putting our money where our mouth is and will be contributing a portion of the profits from the trilogy, movie and game to non-profits such as the B612 Foundation, who are building a space telescope to find the earth-threatening asteroids.

  Of course, impacts aren’t the only threat to our existence. Books two and three cover the next two most probable and dangerous threats. Preview of the book two, IMAGINE, follows.

  (1) Brown, P.G., et. al. (2013) 500-Kiloton Airburst Chelyabinsk and an Enhanced Hazard for Small Impactors (Nature doi:10.1038/Nature/ 12741)

  (2) Napier, W.M. (2015) Giant Comets and Mass Extinctions of Life (Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society 448, 27-36, 2015 doi:10.1093/mnras/stu2681)

  (3) Napier, W.M., J.T. Wickramasinghe, (2004) Extreme Albedo Comets and the Impact Hazard (Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society 355, 191–195, 2004)

  PREVIEW

  IMAGINE

  Book Two of the Fuzed Trilogy

  1

  THE END

  The sound of surf rose from below as the couple stood on a South American clifftop overlooking the Atlantic. Silhouetted by the setting sun, hair tousled by a tropical breeze, it would have been remarkably romantic ... if not for the end of the world.

  “Yes sir, it all hangs on this last shot.” He paused. “Thank you, Mr. President; I’ll pass that on to the team.” As Admiral Joe Meadows set the phone down, he looked out over his Antarctic base. His office, wrapped in heavily insulated glass, sat just below the airfield tower. The panoramic perch reminded him of the bridge of an aircraft carrier. Peering through the Antarctic twilight, he saw the last cargo jet land on the ice runway in 40-knot, 40-below-zero winds.

  He was tired, but he could still appreciate the surreal beauty. The blue taxi lights embedded in the solid ice runway illuminated the snow swirling around the huge Russian jet. It was the last of an international bucket brigade that had built the nuclear-powered base of 10,000 engineers, scientists and construction workers.

  His hand shook slightly as he poured himself a cup of coffee. They had failed. Although they had prevented a direct impact, the comet would penetrate the atmosphere, and if it broke up—

  The elevator ‘dinged.’ He turned to see his highly efficient taskmaster, also known as his Flag Aide, bounding out. Lieutenant Molly Cardoso was dark, wiry and always in motion. Studying her tablet, she answered his unasked question. “We still have a few minutes before we have to be down in the Control Center.”

  Looking back out the window, he put both his hands around the warm coffee cup. “You’d think after 10 months, I’d be used to the cold.”

  “I’ll have them check the heating system.”

  He shook his head with a small smile. “It’s fine, Molly.” He nodded toward the three-story, windowless building, nestled at the base of the mountain. “Nuclear reactor’s putting out plenty of power. In fact, we risk melting the ice runway.” He paused. “It’s probably just the 8,000-foot elevation.” The reflection of his face in the window contradicted him. He’d gone from captain to three-star admiral in ten months. The crushing responsibility and lack of sleep had taken its toll. No longer looking like a large, black, defensive lineman, he’d lost weight and let gray hair grow on his normally clean-shaven head. Did he really look that tired? The reflection of genuine concern on the face of his young aide confirmed it.

  Turning back to her, he smiled. “Molly, you keep up with the news. How’s the world handling it?”

  “Well, the conspiracy theorists still don’t believe there’s a comet or Antarctic base. We’re just actors in a studio. Then there are those who are convinced the world’s ending and are partying their brains out.” She smiled. “But I think the majority accept the situation with cautious hope.” She paused — unusual for her — and added, “Things once important become trivial; things trivial become important.”

  “Why, Molly, you have the heart of a poet.”

  “Doubt it, sir. I hate poetry.” She looked at her tablet.

  Getting the hint, he grabbed his coffee cup, took a last look outside and followed her to the elevator.

  As the doors closed and the elevator headed down to the Control Center, she said, “Sir, you’re scheduled for a short talk to the team as soon as we arrive. It’ll be televised across the base, and,” she looked at him meaningfully, “picked up by the press and broadcast around the world.”

  He gave her a tired grin. “I promise, Molly, I won’t tell any more sea stories.” He paused. “Have you talked to your folks recently?”

  “Talked to my dad in LA yesterday. He’s fine.” She hesitated. “Wasn’t able to talk to Mom. She flew back to Venezuela to be with my grandparents.”

  Meadows frowned.

  She sighed and looked down. “She knows about the comet’s trajectory over South America. I told her if things don’t go according to plan....” Gently shaking her head, she looked back up at him. “She just said it’s where she’s needed.”

  Meadows put his big arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle hug.

  As the elevator doors opened and they walked to the Control Center, she quickly attached a wireless lapel mic and snatched his coffee cup.

  It looked like NASA Mission Control. The front wall was a giant display. It included multiple status screens as well as a live view of the laser domes 1,600 feet above the base. The entire mountaintop had been flattened to install 90 of the world’s most powerful and accurate lasers in a geometrically perfect, phased array pattern.

  Facing the giant display were rows of monitoring stations occupied by two dozen engineers and technicians. Above and behind was a glassed-in press gallery. There was a subdued but constant buzz of voices and keyboard clicks.

  As Meadows moved toward the front of the room, he saw his Deputy Director and Chief Scientist, Dr. Victoria Chandra. Standing near the center of the room, six-foot-tall with long black hair and an intense visage, she was hard to miss. She was conferring with the Control Center Director and her astrophysics team: former astronaut and B612 CEO Dr. Ed Lu; Scottish extraterrestrial impact expert Dr. Bill Napier; and legendary comet finder and astrophysicist Dr. Carolyn Shoemaker.

  Meadows also exchanged a head nod with Elton Musk, who was standing quietly near the back of the room. If it hadn’t been for Musk’s initial surreptitious funding and construction support, none of this would have been possible. Musk had also been instrumental in the rapid production and installation of the 90 lasers. He had a brilliant
knack for out-of-the-box thinking.

  Over the loud speaker, a calm voice said, “T-minus 60 minutes.”

  That was his cue. As he stepped up in front of the main display, the room quieted.

  “I’ll make this fast. You have more important things to do than listen to speeches. After 10 months of back-breaking work, around the clock, in the harshest possible environment ... you’ve delayed the Millennium Comet by three minutes.” He paused. “Doesn’t sound like much, but it allows the earth to move 6,000 kilometers in its orbit and out of the comet’s crosshairs. Although it will graze the atmosphere, you, and the millions who’ve supported us, have prevented a direct impact that would have erased almost all life on Earth.” As he looked around the room, he continued, “I’m incredibly proud of each and every one of you.”

  There was a round of spirited applause.

  He glanced at the display behind him. “We’re 58 minutes from our final salvo ... the most critical to date. You’re about to stop the rotation and stabilize the attitude of a 15-kilometer mountain. Nothing must stop us.”

  He paused. “Just got off the phone with the Secretary-General of the United Nations and the President of the United States. They, along with all the world’s leaders and citizens, send their heart-felt thanks and prayers for our success.” He paused again. “We’re a truly international team and come from many belief sets, but at this point, I don’t think any of us would believe it unreasonable to request supernatural help. Please join me in a quiet prayer.”

  After the prayer, Meadows moved through the Control Center, patting backs and shaking hands. He knew everyone by name. Finally working his way to the back, he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee for himself and Chandra.

  Nodding to Lu, Napier and Shoemaker, he handed the coffee to Chandra and said, “Graduation day.” Over the loudspeaker they heard, “T-minus 30 minutes.”

  She gave him a small smile as he asked the same question he’d asked her every day for the past 10 months. “How are we looking?”

  She nodded toward Napier.

  With a strong Scottish brogue, he said, “Latest projections have it penetrating 50 kilometers into the atmosphere and coming within 70 kilometers of the surface. Computer models still show multiple earthquakes, tsunamis, major meteoroid damage and a very powerful electromagnetic pulse, but they’re all events we’re expecting and hopefully prepared for.”

  Meadows looked at Lu. “Comet orientation?”

  Lu shook his head. “Hate having to wait ‘til the last minute, but we can’t fire until our potato-shaped comet’s skinny face is forward. We’re going to hit it one last time with everything we’ve got. It should stop the rotation and lock it in the optimum orientation for atmospheric entry.”

  Meadows looked at Chandra.

  She exhaled sharply and said quietly, “Even firing all of them, it’s barely enough to stop the rotation.” She paused. “And this is the first time we’ve fired all of them at the same time.” She shook her head. “They finished installing the extra capacitors and power conduits last night, but we haven’t had time to test ‘em.”

  Meadows nodded and then asked Lu, “What are the odds it’ll hold together when it hits the atmosphere?”

  “With the correct orientation, it’ll have 15 percent less drag.”

  Meadows frowned. “Ed, I know you’ve done a lot of atmospheric entries yourself, but ...” he raised an eyebrow, “optimistic press releases aside?”

  Lu looked him in the eye. “Joe, you know the story. We’re dealing with a mountain of ice and rock moving 100 times faster than a rifle bullet.” He shook his head. “There’s no way it’ll hold together through a dozen G’s of deceleration at 4,500 degrees. All we can hope for is it’ll hold together long enough that the pieces won’t hit us or explode in the atmosphere.”

  “T-minus 15 minutes. Target data upload complete.”

  “And if they do?”

  Napier, staring past them, inserted, “Latest simulations say that if it breaks up and explodes in the atmosphere, we’re talking a 10-million-megaton blast.”

  Meadows gave a slight shrug. “Better than a two-billion-megaton direct hit.”

  Nodding, Napier quietly added, “Yes, but that’s still a thousand times more energy than all the nuclear weapons in the world combined. It’d melt the mile of ice this base sits on and scorch half the planet. The other half would eventually freeze and starve.”

  As Meadows was responding, the Control Center Director, Colonel Carlos Comulada, turned around and interrupted, “We got a problem.” With one hand on his headset, he pointed at a display. It showed a schematic of the ninety Blasters, but three branches of ten were blinking red. “Just lost the power to 30 Blasters. Probably wind damage to the conduits. We’re clocking 70-knot gusts on the mountaintop. I sent in the emergency team.”

  Meadows signaled Musk to join them.

  “T-minus 10 minutes. Targeting servos aligned.”

  Meadows asked, “Can we realign the remaining Blasters?”

  Chandra said, “Yes, but 60 Blasters aren’t enough!” Calling up data on one of the consoles, she added, “We’ve got to get at least 20 back online or we don’t have enough power to stop the rotation.”

  Musk asked, “Can we delay the firing?”

  Lu and Napier shook their heads emphatically, as Chandra said, “Absolutely not! We have to hit it right when it’s in the optimum orientation.”

  Comulada looked at them. “They have six minutes to evaluate, repair and evacuate.”

  Meadows noticed the press had sensed something and were pointing cameras their way.

  Lu leaned in and whispered, “If it hits the atmosphere with any angular momentum, our simulations say it’ll tear itself apart and explode in the atmosphere.”

  “T-minus six minutes. Capacitors at 100 percent charge.”

  One of the mountaintop cameras zoomed in on a dome damaged by the wind. Next to it, they could just make out shadowy figures in the twilight. The camera zoomed in further to a car-sized power junction box. With dozens of leg-thick cables coming out of it, it looked like a giant spider. They watched the team trying to repair the connections while fighting subzero, hurricane-force winds.

  “T-minus five minutes. Core super-cooling commencing.”

  Comulada turned back to Chandra, “We’ve got to realign the remaining Blasters before the automated firing sequence locks them out.”

  Chandra closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said, rapidly, “Realign — assuming we get the first two branches of 10 back online.”

  Comulada’s eyes narrowed. “You sure? If we end up with only 60, realigning for 80 will mismatch the phasing, making the shot ineffective.”

  “T-minus one minute. Dome doors opening.”

  Chandra snapped, “Do it!” Softer, she added, “Carlos, if it’s rotating when it hits the atmosphere, we’re toast. We’ve got to go for broke.”

  Comulada nodded.

  The two technicians looking back at him turned around and keyed in the changes.

  “T-minus 45 seconds. Dome doors open.

  Meadows tapped a pen on his leg and Chandra unconsciously rocked back and forth as they all stared at the video feed from the mountaintop. Everything hinged on the frostbitten repair crew.

  “T-minus 30 seconds. Capacitor initiators armed.”

  Comulada pointed at one of the screens. “They fixed one circuit! That’s 10 Blasters back online.”

  Lu shook his head. “Not enough!”

  Musk quickly said, “Reroute the power intended for the dead Blasters to the others.”

  Comulado shook his head. “They can’t handle that much power. We’ll melt their cores and blow them apart!”

  Musk turned to Meadows and Chandra. “They only have to fire one more time!”

  Nodding, Meadows and Chandra simultaneously said, “Melt ‘em!”

  Comulada put his hands on the shoulders of the two wide-eyed technicians and said, “Emergency override! Reset the phasing
and redistribute all power to the live Blasters.”

  Their fingers flew over the keyboards. As they hit enter—

  “T-minus 15 seconds. Target coordinates locked. Abort disabled.”

  At the front of the Control Room, the display of the Blaster’s status changed. Twenty Blasters went black. The remaining 70 changed from green to yellow with a flashing “128% POWER” next to each.

  There was a buzz around the room and in the press gallery. Over the noise, Meadows told Comulada, “The Blasters may explode. Tell the repair crew to take cover in the dome of one of the dead Blasters!”

  Comulada nodded, speaking quickly into his headset.

  On screen, they saw the shadowy figures running toward one of the domes.

  “T-minus ten, nine ...”

  As they reached the dome, Meadows quietly said to Chandra, “Whatever the outcome, it’s been an honor and privilege to serve with you.”

  “... six, five ...”

  She whispered back, “Honor’s all mine. Just wish Josh had lived to see this.”

  “... two, one ...”

  Blindingly beautiful, blue-green lasers lit the Antarctic plain like a flash photograph. Several of the domes exploded as 70 beams stabbed at the comet in what might be humanity’s last act of defiance.

  “Look!” Standing on the cliff top, Elizabeth pointed northeast across the ocean.

  Just above the horizon, Josh saw pinpoints of light in the distance sparkling like tiny, green fireflies. He nodded his head. “That was it ... our last shot.”