The Sky is Falling

by J. D. Martens

  Robert sat in the large conference room again, typing away at his computer. To his left sat Dr. Goldberg, straightening his tie. Daniel Atkins sat to Dr. Goldberg’s left, typing as well. Any minute now they would have a video conference with Secretary Brighton, President Chaplin, and her Chief of Staff and Press Secretary.

  Robert saw Dr. Goldberg wringing his hands, and then wiping them off of his pants.

  “Relax, Goldberg, it’ll be okay. It’s only the president. One might say—”

  “No offense, Miller, but I don’t need your pep talk right now. Thanks.”

  Robert shrugged and President Chaplin appeared on the largest of the monitors, and the other faces appeared on smaller screens below her. Everyone stood up, and Robert watched Chaplin. He didn’t vote for her, but that was only because he didn’t vote. She was an imposing woman; you could see it in her eyes. They were a deep radiant blue, fierce with passion, and it felt as though this was where she got her power. Her smile, though, which she exhibited shortly after she came on the screen, was her charm. You felt warm and comfortable and safe when Chaplin looked at you.

  “Good morning, lady and gentlemen,” Chaplin said warmly, nodding for everyone to sit down, which they did.

  “Good morning, Madam President,” everyone said in unison.

  The air was thick in the conference room.

  “I called this meeting,” President Chaplin began, “for two reasons. Firstly, to meet Dr. Miller and his team. I understand you are working around the clock to ensure Earth’s safety, and for that I want to thank you. Also—please, Doctor, call me Victoria. You are saving the world here. I’m just here to make sure you have what you need.”

  The other Cabinet members were visibly bothered by President Chaplin’s informal gesture. Dr. Miller felt honored, and Suri beamed at her president.

  President Chaplin continued, “The second reason I called this meeting is to get everyone on the same page. This is now a global crisis. Chile, as you know, has descended into anarchy. Its scientists released photographs of Comet J312 to the public, which we believe is the reason for the government’s fall. As we begin to fire massive amounts of explosives out of the atmosphere, this is bound to cause domestic uproar for us as well. There are many things we must account for.

  “Peru and Bolivia have both fallen as well, and it’s only a matter of time before the rest of South America descends into anarchy. As a result, I have shut down communication between the citizens of these three nations and our own citizens. Predictably, this has caused some . . . complaints . . . among our own population. We have even shut off all flights and trade between Santiago and the United States. The secret of the meteor won’t last forever.”

  “Comet,” Robert interrupted. “It’s a comet, not a meteor.”

  “Right, comet, whatever. As I was saying, over the past two months, the U.S. has taken over complete control of the major news networks, and we have been in touch with Facebook and other social media sites. They have agreed to keep America at peace for a little while longer.

  “We will do everything we can to make sure the United States of America, and the world, keeps going to work, keeps paying their bills, and keeps on living. This is essential to us continuing to live and prosper, and most importantly, stop Comet J312 from hitting our planet.” The president paused, and then continued. “Ideally, we will do this as discreetly as possible.”

  Robert and Suri looked at each other.

  “Next week I will announce Project Mars to the public, a plan to put a team of astronauts on the Red Planet within two and a half years. Obviously, secretly we will be working—”

  At this Robert spoke up. “President Chaplin, if I may, you can’t seriously expect to keep the American people in the dark about Shi—about Comet J312?”

  President Chaplin exhaled, and in answer the screen faded to black and was replaced by a video of a burning church in the middle of a big square.

  President Chaplin’s voice came over the video. “The footage you’re seeing now is from one week ago. The Chilean news station ‘Canal 24 Horas’ published the news of the comet, and after a calm night, the streets erupted into chaos and anarchy. Churches and government buildings around the capital were burned, and generals took up arms against the government. The country has been in a relative state of anarchy ever since.” The scenes on the screen switched now to different cities, where fighting was similarly taking place as President Chaplin’s voice continued. “Here is La Paz, Bolivia, and Lima, Peru. This is what happens when the people discover the world is going to end.”

  President Chaplin’s head returned on the screen, wearing a sad, despondent face, and she spoke up again toward the now-silent scientists. “I know it may seem like the wrong thing to do, but the longer we can work as a stable country, the better chance we have of saving the world.

  “Already, the activist groups Anonymous and WikiLeaks are trying to hack and discover what is happening and publish it to the world. So far, we believe we have them convinced that Project Mars is what they want to uncover, and not the comet itself.

  “The people of the United States believe in us, but when faced with the destruction of the planet, well, I’m not sure I want to risk it just yet. Remember, our primary objective is to save the world. When things get bad here, remember that. We do not worry about loss of freedom, we do not worry even about security. We serve the USA and the world, and in this, we must make sure the Earth survives. After all”—the president gave a wry smile to the camera—“the Earth is a pretty nice spot in the solar system, isn’t it?”

  The scientists looked at each other and nodded, and then Victoria Chaplin continued, “I’m telling you all this because for one, I want you to respect—and agree with—the idea that we should keep this quiet as long as possible. Secondly, I would like you to delegate a team of scientists to working on a ‘leave Earth’ option—a preliminary estimation on how long we can stay in a self-sustaining vessel, perhaps to orbit the Earth during and after the impact event. This is in case the collision course is unavoidable. We must explore our alternatives.”

  Robert began to speak, but held his tongue. An alternative to Earth?! he thought.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” Chaplin asked.

  No one seemed to have anything of note, and there was a small moment of silence. Suri and Robert breathed deeply. They both felt that even if every scientist and person “in the know” held their tongue, this secret was too big to keep.

  “Very well. I will come back in one week’s time to hear an update on how things are going. Good luck. We have the best minds in the world on this project, and the fate of the world is in your hands. God bless the United States of America.”

  We’ll need a lot more than God’s blessing, Robert thought.

  “You’re quitting the basketball team?!” gasped Jasper, Jeremy’s basketball team captain. “Are you kidding me? Now?!” They stood in the hallway during school. Kids scurried around them walking and talking a mile a minute.

  Jeremy hadn’t exactly meant to quit. They were already in the playoffs, and their coach had given them a whole new set of plays to learn for practice next week. Normally, Jeremy would have excitedly tackled the task—he loved learning new tactics for his favorite sport—but nothing seemed normal anymore, and basketball was not on his mind.

  “Why are you quitting?” Jasper asked.

  Suddenly, an underclassmen ran into them while looking down at his phone, looked fearfully up at the two seniors, and hustled out of sight.

  Oh, I don’t know . . . the world is going to end maybe, Jeremy thought. But he couldn’t come up with a real answer. He couldn’t even lie and say his dad wouldn’t let him play. His father was one of the team’s biggest fans.

  “If you can’t come up with a real answer—like the world is about to end—I’m not letting you quit.”

  Jeremy burst out laughing and doubled over. Jasper seemed pleased his joke landed so well, even if he didn’t really th
ink it was that funny. Jeremy finished laughing and looked up at Jasper, taking the plays from his hand.

  “Alright, man. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed I guess. Girl problems. I’ll study them for next week’s practice.”

  Jasper narrowed his eyes at Jeremy. “Alright, bud. Don’t worry so much, man. It’s high school. Supposed to be fun, ya’ know?”

  “Thanks, Jasper.”

  “Oh! Wait, man, I forgot to ask you something.”

  “What’s up?” Jeremy asked.

  “This weekend a few of us are heading to my beach house in Galveston. Want to come?”

  “Galveston?” Jeremy asked, but his mind was somewhere else.

  “Yeah, man, you’ve been there. My parents aren’t gonna be there this weekend, so I figured we could go.”

  “Um, I can’t, but thanks a lot! I appreciate it!”

  Of course! Jeremy thought.

  Jasper had unwittingly given Jeremy a great idea, and Jeremy weaved in and out of his classmates, arriving at English class. He was one of the first people there. He quickly sat down, got out a pencil and a scrap of paper, and began to write. Mrs. Presley was grading at her desk and looked up to see Jeremy seated, quickly scribbling, apparently impressed, but Jeremy wasn’t writing anything school-related. It was probably the first time in his life he wasn’t writing something for school.

  Jeremy wrote, Things I’ll need for the End of the World.

  He excitedly worked through his list, creating subcategories for places he would need to go. Home Depot would have things under it like hammer, nails, and a nice ax, with prices listed next to them. In big letters he wrote GAS! And right under that, gas canisters. By the end of the class he had filled up, front and back, an entire list of things he thought he’d need.

  His plan was not very elaborate, but it gave him some hope. During lunch he found Anna, and showed it to her.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  Jeremy got straight to the point.

  “I think we should drive to your cabin, in Vail.”

  “Now? You want to drive all the way to Colorado, now?”

  “We should leave before the U.S. dissolves,” Jeremy spoke in a hushed tone, explaining himself, “You heard what was happening around the world, and what Dr. Miller said. What’s the point of going to school now, anyway? Who cares? Let’s just go to your cabin and live. And more importantly, hide from the anarchy that’s going to come. I bet things will get crazy here when people hear about Shiva.”

  Jeremy wanted nothing more than to simply live with Anna, without responsibility, without sacrificing precious days that could be spent hiking, swimming, relaxing, and hanging out with his friends. Spend your last days on Earth in a classroom—yeah right!

  “I don’t know, Jer. What about our parents? I’d want them to come with us.”

  “Ask them. I’m going to ask mine, too. And I’m going to ask Dustin to go, too. Since he lives with his aunt and they don’t get along, I think he’ll come. Basically, we could live together, you know. How about that?”

  Anna looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

  “Of course!”

  “Oh, Jeremy!” Anna said, embracing Jeremy tightly, and kissing him lovingly. She stroked his hair and said goodbye. Jeremy could swear she skipped to class on the way back.

  Jeremy cut class, got into his car, and drove straight to the bank. He went to the ATM and plugged in his pin to check how much money he had in his account—$952.41. He went into the bank since he couldn’t withdraw it all at once from an ATM, and asked the teller if he could get large bills.

  “Are you sure you want to deplete your account?” she asked, curiously.

  “Leave fifty dollars. Yes, thank you.”

  The bills made his wallet thick and he felt anxious about the possibility of getting robbed. He drove to Home Depot and walked in, nodding to the teller, and asked for the “nails” aisle. He walked up and shook his head when he saw the vast wall of nails of all lengths, widths, types of heads, even all types of colors! It was maddening.

  I’ll just take nails out of buildings if I need them I guess, he thought.

  If he bought a bunch of nails and stuff, he would need a box, and Jeremy realized he didn’t plan everything nearly enough. Instead of buying everything, he decided to raid his father’s garage and truck for equipment before leaving. This also meant he had money to buy a generator, which he knew they would need. This way, they would be able to charge anything they needed, like phones, GPS, whatever. The generator was $400.00, and money well spent.

  After that, Jeremy drove to Dustin’s house.

  His car was out front because he had a free seventh period. His aunt, Andrea, answered the door.

  “What do you want?” the woman asked.

  “Hi, Mrs. Wood. Is Dustin there?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

  Jeremy gulped and then lied, “No, we have a half day today. It’s a teacher work day.”

  “Oh, good for you. Yes, he’s here, working on some kind of art project.” Andrea said the last words hatefully, but moved slightly, allowing Jeremy to go inside.

  “Oh, right. Thanks, Mrs. Wood.”

  He walked up the spiral staircase to Dustin’s room, gazing at the chandelier that he walked around, before knocking at his door.

  “Come in.”

  “What’s up, man?”

  “Oh, hey, Jeremy! What do you think?” Dustin looked behind him, and showed Jeremy a large canvass. Jeremy burst out laughing. It was an incredibly detailed painting of Dustin’s own naked body.

  “I’m going to give it to Karina.”

  “You’re so weird, man.”

  “I think she’ll like it,” Dustin mused.

  “I think she will either punch you in the face or run away screaming.”

  “Maybe both!”

  Dustin offered Jeremy a Gatorade and opened his window, which led to the roof. They climbed outside and sat, overlooking the Houston skyline. The rain had lessened over the past week, but they still spotted a little flooding. It was a mark of Houston, the spring floods, and Jeremy looked at his city fondly in the shimmering midday heat.

  “So, what’s up? You’re supposed to be in Physics class, right?”

  “Yeah, I skipped it. I wanted to tell you something . . . ”

  Then Jeremy told Dustin what he hadn’t told Dustin the day they went to the JSC and spied on Dr. Miller. He told Dustin about following Dr. Miller down to the Third Ward and the bar Soldier’s, and then when he came to see them at the Buffalo Bayou. He told him everything, including his most recent plan of heading to a remote area of Vail, high in the Rocky Mountains—Anna’s parent’s cabin.

  “I can’t believe it,” Dustin answered. “That’s what those numbers and stuff were? The stuff that Anna saw? That’s so terrible.”

  Though Dustin believed Jeremy, it didn’t really sink in yet, but nevertheless he looked over at his oldest friend and said, “I’m in.”

  Dustin hadn’t reacted the way Jeremy thought he would—by throwing the Gatorade bottle off the roof, or shouting at the top of his lungs. He just looked down, like he suddenly got exhausted when the words entered his ears. But, as always, Dustin was at his side. That’s why Dustin was Jeremy’s best friend—he stood beside him no matter what.

  “Are you going to tell your parents?” Dustin asked.

  “Yeah, but I keep putting it off. Anna’s going to tell her parents, but they won’t believe her. Are you going to tell your aunt?’

  “She wouldn’t leave Houston if aliens landed on the bayou.”

  They sat quietly for a while.

  “You know,” Dustin said, thinking, “this actually explains something.”

  “What does?”

  “You remember Francisco, the Chilean exchange student we had? I tried asking him about the revolution and the fighting going on in Santiago right now, but I couldn’t reach him on Facebook. It was like he deleted his profile, w
hich I thought, okay, people delete their Facebook, but then I sent him a WhatsApp message, and that didn’t get to him either. Then email, and it also wouldn’t work. It was like he had vanished from the internet.

  “But maybe . . . ” Dustin’s voice grew suspicious. “ . . . Maybe someone is blocking internet traffic between our countries?”

  “You know the president’s speech about Project Mars?” Jeremy said, ignoring Dustin’s question. “It’s just a cover for the real plan.”

  Dustin smirked. “For knocking the meteor out of our way?”

  “Actually, it’s a comet.”

  “Whatever.”

  They sat in silence for a while, drinking Gatorade and watching two birds circle over a swimming pool a few houses down. Then Dustin spoke up.

  “We should get supplies. And when do you want to leave?”

  Daniel Atkins sat in an ornate office in the White House. The White House Press Secretary, Justine Richards, typed away on her desktop computer. She was a rather large woman with a shrill voice. She was incredibly crass in person, but when it came to delivering politically correct and bipartisan statements, she was the best there was. Together, they were in charge of Shiva’s cover-up and the Project Mars charade, and things were not going all that smoothly.

  Anonymous, the hacking group responsible for much of the WikiLeaks data dumps and many other cyber-crimes, had hacked NASA’s servers. Daniel guessed they were after more concrete details regarding the budget, or perhaps blueprints of the ship being designed to reach Mars. Instead, they stumbled upon the datasheets of one of the Interplanetary Missiles.

  Anonymous had then contacted Justine, asking for more information, and threatened to go to the press. However, when Justine ignored this (all the major news networks were now government controlled), Anonymous went to CNN. CNN, however, did not publicize the data. So, Anonymous had called back, threatening to send it to WikiLeaks, which, after Justine ignored them a second time, they did.