It happened too fast to mentally and emotionally grasp what was going on. Almost immediately after the meteorite exploded cars in front of them on the interstate were being tossed around. A wall of dust, tree branches, glass, house parts, and other unknown shrapnel flew at deadly speeds into the traffic jam and everywhere around them. Zhi Feng’s first thought was that he hoped Childers and Stetson were getting hit as well.
The smaller electric and gas-efficient vehicles became airborne projectiles as the supersonic shock wave in the atmosphere ripped across the interstate, throwing them asunder.
“Jesus H. Christ!” One of the agents shouted his last words just before what appeared to be a blue and white Mini Cooper pounded directly through the windshield of the SUV upside down, ripping off the roof of the SUV and taking the driver’s head with it. The SUV was picked up and tossed end over end.
Zhi Feng could feel liquid covering him from head to toe as the instant slowed in time to his perception. He could see that the liquid was dark red blood splattering about from the two now-dead agents’ horribly mangled bodies in front of him. Agent Reed to his left had assumed crash position and had his head tucked to his knees. His quick reaction had probably saved his life. The pavement of the highway passed underneath them and Feng could see a car pass by and then another as they landed on a third upside down. The torn roof squealed like fingernails on a chalkboard and then the rumble and crashing sounds of metal and glass against more metal and glass was so horrifying as to be overwhelming and indescribable.
Either from sensory overload or an injury, Feng had blacked out for a brief instant. He came to looking through the torn roof of the SUV at the top of another car. The vehicle beneath them was badly crushed. He suspected that its occupants were no longer alive. He turned to his left and saw Agent Reed hanging upside down, his seat belt holding him in place. Feng then realized that he too was hanging upside down and there was a pretty severe pain in his left foot.
Reed seemed to be coming around and Feng realized he only had seconds to act. So he did. Quickly he elbowed the FBI agent in the side of the head, further stunning him. He reached into the man’s jacket, going for his gun, but the agent was made of tougher stuff than Feng had given him credit for.
Agent Reed grabbed at Feng’s cuffed hands as they struggled for the weapon. Reed yanked the cuffs downward as best he could and threw his right elbow at Zhi Feng. Feng was coherent enough to move out of the way and then use his head and shoulders to pin Reed’s right arm against the car’s seatback. This put Feng closer to the agent’s body, but again Reed was proving to be quite resilient. He managed to work his hand around Feng’s neck grabbing at his throat. He squeezed tightly on Feng’s windpipe, choking him.
Feng’s adrenaline completely took over. He reactively head-butted the FBI agent square on the side of his face and right on the temple, stunning the man just enough for Feng to work his hands onto the holster snap and release it. Reed punched Feng in the face twice with his left hand and closed his grip tighter around his throat with the other. But Feng had the man’s gun in his grasp and pulled the trigger inside his jacket. He pulled it again.
Agent Reed’s grip went limp but there was no blood. Feng pulled the gun the rest of the way from the jacket and looked closer, realizing that the agent was wearing a bulletproof vest.
“I see, Agent Reed,” he spat blood from his mouth. “You are quite prepared.”
Feng held the gun to the man’s head and pulled the trigger as he turned his own head away to avoid the bright pink and red blood mist and gray brain matter from splattering on him. He then pulled the keys from the agent’s belt and fiddled with the handcuffs while accidentally dropping the gun. The gun went off as it hit the top of the car the SUV was upside down on. Feng wasn’t sure where the bullet had gone. He had been lucky the misfire had missed him.
Finally, he found the right key and the handcuffs were off. He rubbed at his wrist and then braced himself for a fall as he unbuckled his seat belt. Feng crashed to what was left of the roof of the SUV and the roof of the car they were on top of. He fumbled around in the bloody wreckage until he found the gun and then he engaged the safety and stuck it in the back of his pants. He rummaged through Reed’s jacket and found his badge and his extra magazines for the pistol. He took his wallet as well. Then he reached over into the front seat and scrounged for the two dead agents’ wallets. He took them.
“Thank you, agents,” he said. Then he looked about the mangled vehicle doing his best to figure a way out. He kicked at the window hoping to break it but instantly realized that his left foot must have several broken bones in it. Feng squealed in pain and cursed in Chinese. Once the pain subsided a bit he tested whether he could stand on his broken foot and kick with his good one, but that was no good either. So instead, he pulled the pistol and shot out the window. He grinned and nodded approvingly at his handiwork. Feng was going to survive his capture at the airport. He was going to escape. And he was going to find Childers and Stetson and he was going to kill them.
Carefully he let himself out of the broken window, cutting himself superficially on the shards of glass. Blood oozed down his wrists to his elbow with a slight tickling sensation. There was little pain from the cuts. He knew they meant nothing. Finding Childers and Stetson was all that mattered. He had made it out of the FBI’s grasp. He was free.
CHAPTER 44
Paul nearly jumped out of his skin. The alarm on his touchpad rang loudly and echoed through his personal area and certainly permeated the zippered closed curtains so the rest of the crew would hear it. He carefully slid his arms out of the sleeping bag and tapped at the screen Velcroed just above his head. He called that direction up anyway.
“God, I’m still tired. Seems like I just went to sleep,” he muttered to himself, but the time showing on the touchpad made it clear that eight hours had passed. “Uhgg,” he grunted. At least it was easier to pull one’s self up or at least out of bed in microgravity.
“Bozhe moi! Eight hours was not enough!” Rykov complained. “Reset it for eight more.”
“I’m sorry, comrade, I need to check on our status,” Paul said. “But there is no need for the two of you to be in any hurry right now. You might as well stay put until I give the command capsule an assessment.”
“I’m awake,” Hui said. Paul could hear her rustling about. “I’m going to take a shower if I am not needed this minute.”
“Go ahead,” Paul replied. Then he got a whiff of himself. “Think I will too when you are done. No hurry.”
“Very well,” Hui said as she poked her head out of her personal space. “I will let you know when I’m done.”
“For God’s sake, would the two of you hold it down?” Rykov grunted.
Paul was still wearing his Liquid Cooling Ventilation garment or LCVGs that astronauts wore underneath their EVA suits. Once he was certain Hui had entered the shower he decided to pull the thing off. A couple of times he spun about out of control like a whirling dervish but he finally managed to right himself and then stow his LCVG in his garment bag attached to the wall. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and some socks. Then he noted that the temperature in the cabin was a very comfortable twenty-three degrees Celsius. The environment control system for the Tamaroa was functioning fine. In other words, he was quite comfortable and it was a warm balmy morning inside the spaceship.
Paul tapped at the icons on his touch pad as he floated toward the front hatch into the command capsule. The reactor was humming right along. The pressure sensors throughout the ship showed normal. Fuel levels showed zero. And the communications system still showed the high gain and low gain feeds were offline, but there was an icon blinking on the digital transceiver menu bar.
“Now what?” Paul muttered as he pressed the hatch open button on the wall and then tapped at the icon on his touchpad.
The door opened with only a slight humming of an electric motor. There wasn’t even the hiss of pressure equalization. That was a
good sign that the capsule hadn’t leaked any over the sleep cycle. Then the touchpad dinged at him and a popup window appeared on the screen.
Incoming message received and stored.
“What!?” Paul excitedly played the message. Once he had listened to it in its entirety he then piped it through the ship’s intercom so Rykov and Hui could hear it.
“Spaceship Tamaroa, this is Mission Control. We are so glad to hear from you guys up there! We are tracking you with the Deep Space Network and will be able to communicate with you as long as you can broadcast in the way you are doing. As of the moment we sent this response we are still receiving your repeated broadcast. Please be advised that the Russians had attempted to launch a nuclear weapon to divert the asteroid but that mission has failed. We desperately need to understand your present status and if you were able to fire the main engines of the Tamaroa. We await your response.”
“Holy shit! It is about time, comrades!” Rykov practically flew out of his cube seemingly wide awake. “Paul! We need to respond to them immediately.”
“Yes, I know. I’m connecting us now.” Paul tapped the microphone icon and the tablet showed it was recording. Then he nodded to Mikhail that it was on.
“Greetings, Mission Control! Boy are you guys a sound for sore ears. We are all alive and well here on the Sutter’s Mill asteroid.” Paul paused, not exactly sure what to say. “We attached the Tamaroa to the asteroid and fired her engines until the fuel was exhausted. We need to know if we were able to push the asteroid enough to miss the Earth. Also, be advised that the Tamaroa is grounded, but the crew transfer vehicle is fully capable. We sure hope the engineers back home can figure out a way to get us off this rock and safely to Earth. Tamaroa out.”
“Very good, Paul,” Rykov said as he rolled his eyes up in his head as if he were thinking deeply or calculating numbers.
“I’m hitting the send button,” Paul said.
“Yes, yes.” Rykov sounded distracted. “If I did the numbers in my head right, we are about eighty-seven light-seconds from Earth. If they got our message we should hear from them in about three or so minutes.”
“Shower is all yours, Paul,” Hui’s voice startled both of them. Paul turned and could see Hui drying her hair with a towel as best she could while floating about. “Did I miss something?”
“You most certainly did.” Paul smiled.
* * *
It was the longest three minutes the crew had ever spent. They watched the clock on Paul’s touchpad until it had passed the three minute mark. Then thirty seconds more passed. Then another thirty seconds more. Then…
“Tamaroa Spacecraft, this is Mission Control! Great to know you are still with us up there. And we have news for Paul. Your wife has come out of her coma and is recovering well. She will be happy to know you are alive and well.”
Paul’s heart skipped a beat and he felt as if the weight of at least half of the world had lifted from it. Hui patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.
“Great news, comrade.” Rykov smiled at him.
“…initial calculations suggest the asteroid’s trajectory may have changed, but it is still too early to know for certain. We will keep you apprised and please update us with your ephemeris tables as often as you can. At this time we are still working the issue of getting you home with just the CTV, but we will figure something out. Just hang in there. Also note that we will follow this transmission with a continuous audio news feed to keep you posted. We would like for you to start an update of your status at least every four hours. Hopefully by tomorrow we’ll have some better news on your trajectory and on getting you home. Also note that medical is wanting a list of your food, water, and air stores. If there is anything else you think of that we can help with, we are all ears. Good luck and we’ll talk in four hours. Mission Control out.”
“Mikhail, we’re sending and receiving digital audio, right?” Paul asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you rig us up a way to send text? It would be easier to get them data that way rather than having to read it all,” Paul explained. He knew they had to get control of their situation if they were going to get home. NASA’s statement that they were “working” the problem concerned him that they might not be able to “work it out.”
“Very easy, Paul. We’ll just need to tell them what we are doing and when we are planning to do it. I’ll set it up on a sideband so it doesn’t interfere with the audio band. You’ll be able to text and talk simultaneously if you like. Just as we could before. I’m afraid at the power we are able to put out right now though video is out of the question,” Rykov replied.
“Good. And, understood on the video. Don’t really need it right now. Getting the radio and texting set up is your number one priority starting right now,” Paul ordered. “Hui, start taking inventory on the food and water and air as they asked. Anything else you can think of type it up. What about the fuel on the CTV? Any way to take the fuel from the attitude control system of the Tamaroa and transfer it to the CTV? Ask them?”
“What are you going to do, Paul?” Rykov asked.
“Well, my friend, I stink. And not being too blunt I hope, so do you.” Paul grinned at Mikhail. “I’m taking a shower and I’d suggest you follow suit when I’m done.”
Rykov sniffed under his armpit and made a face. Hui did her best not to chuckle but couldn’t stop herself. Paul handed Hui his touchpad and kicked off the wall aftward.
“Hui, be subprocessing the whole getting-us-home problem.”
“Of course. I have yet to stop doing so.”
“How can we not?” Rykov sniffed himself again. “Do I really smell that bad?”
“Yes, you do. And the worst part is, I didn’t even notice until after I had showered,” Paul could hear Hui tell him as he passed through the hatch into the bathroom area. He smiled. Not because of the banter with Rykov. But because Carolyn was alive and recovering well. And now she knew he was, too.
“She’s alive,” he whispered to himself as he started the shower system. “Somehow, I’m coming home to you.”
CHAPTER 45
Sutter’s Mill had not yet entered into what was known as the Earth’s gravitational sphere of influence. At that point on the asteroid’s trajectory the Earth’s gravitational attraction would become noticeable and influential on its future path.
The large cookie-shaped rock, two kilometers in diameter and half a kilometer thick, hurled flat-side-first toward Earth. After a week since the Tamaroa had pushed the large rock at a vector away from Earth the trajectory analysis was still “iffy.” The odds were getting larger that the asteroid would miss the planet but there was still an equal and quite significant double digit percentage showing impact. There were just too many variables to calculate to get a precise trajectory calculation as of yet. Soon the Earth and the Moon would be coming into play in the equations as well. The multi-body problem was almost beyond predicting a solution without having several days of trajectory position data. But at that point it would be too late.
The asteroid was only nineteen days out from impact or its closest approach to Earth, whichever it was going to be. It was still up in the air if destruction from near Earth space was going to happen or not. Just to top off the anxiety of not knowing what was going to happen, the people of Earth were licking their rather large wounds from the debris cloud impacts, and the crew of the Tamaroa still had no clue how they were going to get off that rock and home, assuming the asteroid didn’t take them home the hard way.
“…and the combined loss of life in Memphis, Cincinnati, and Los Angeles is expected to be in the many tens of thousands, possibly even as much as over one hundred thousand. It will be weeks before the casualties will be accounted for, if ever. There were several impacts in the Pacific at lower latitudes causing small tidal waves from Hawaii to the Philippines but there has been much less reported damage as the warnings of the impacts in the U.S. likely scared the Pacific coastal nations and cities to react and prep
are better than expected. There was some damage, but minimal compared to the U.S. The president said today on…”
“My God!” Rykov exclaimed. “We have no business moving these asteroids around until we understand the consequences better.”
“I’m afraid, comrade.” Paul frowned. “We are learning the consequences the hard way. Jesus, the devastation must be indescribable.”
“We must hope that we will not learn a much harder lesson,” Hui added. “What if the engines did not push the asteroid off course enough?”
“That is in the back of all our minds,” Paul agreed with her. What if it didn’t work? How big of an impact would it be? Would it kill a country? Worse? Paul didn’t like thinking about it, but at the same time he’d been a man who had planned contingencies his entire life. He needed a backup plan. Or at least that was the last thought he had just before the Tamaroa rocked hard to his left, slamming against his back.
“What the hell!” Paul shouted doing his best to find a handhold as the ship lurched again. This time it seemed to be falling, but that couldn’t be right. There wasn’t enough gravity on the asteroid for that.
“Something is making the asteroid unstable,” Hui shouted over the rumbling and metal-on-rock grinding sound that permeated the ship.
“Gravity!” Rykov said. “We are getting close enough to Earth that it is tugging on the rock. No, wait. Not yet, we’re still too far out. Hmm.”
“Maybe it is heat from the Sun?” Hui added.
The rumbling and grinding noise continued for a few more seconds and then just as abruptly as it had started it stopped. The three astronauts looked at each other briefly stunned and then their training and survival instincts kicked in.
“Suit up, everyone!” Paul ordered. “We don’t know what is going on yet and we need to find out. Let’s get suited up and do an EVA.”
“I could take the CTV out and look around,” Hui offered.
On to the Asteroid Page 24