Wherever Seeds May Fall (First Contact)

by Peter Cawdron

  Wherever Seeds May Fall

  Copyright © Peter Cawdron 2020. All rights reserved. The right of Peter Cawdron to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover art: Composite image comprised of Saturn as viewed by Cassini NASA/ESA, the Cygnus 2 reentry from ISS Expedition 40 and Dandelion by La Corvio.

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  Dedication

  For JB and the crew at JDS Australia

  Thanks for all the encouragement over the years

  Rendezvous Saturn: November

  Incoming

  From within the kitchen, Jan calls out, “Honey, can you get the door?”

  It’s Saturday afternoon. Nolan is sitting on the edge of the sofa, perched on a cushion, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. His elbows rest on his knees. His eyes barely blink as he stares at the television, lost in thought.

  “—first major impact since comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 collided with Jupiter in 1994. Back then, the Hubble Space Telescope caught glimpses of mushroom clouds rising above the planet. A succession of fragments plunged deep into the heart of the gas giant as the comet broke up.”

  “Honey?”

  “Dark stains saturated the cloud tops, smudges larger than Earth itself, a testament to the sheer—”

  “Can you get the front door?”

  Nolan’s reluctant but finally gets to his feet.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it.”

  “—Levy 9 was estimated to be a mile wide. After being torn into more than twenty pieces, it struck Jupiter like a derailed freight train. Each impact caused plumes to rise thousands of miles above the cloud tops. The force of each collision was akin to hundreds of nuclear bombs exploding at once—”

  Another knock resounds from the door.

  “Honey!”

  “I’m going. I’m going.”

  “—creating temperatures in excess of seventy thousand degrees, hotter than the surface of the sun.”

  Jan peeks around the edge of the pass-through connecting the kitchen with the lounge. Nolan is on the move. Although his eyes leave the screen, his mind doesn’t. He listens intently to the commentary as he opens the front door.

  “This time, telescopes around the world and in orbit have turned their eyes to Saturn. Now, all we can do is watch and wait.”

  “Hi,” a friendly face says as the cool autumn air swirls within the doorway.

  Leaves have piled up against the side of the house. They’re resplendent in their golden yellows, oranges, and reds. Snowflakes drift idly by, settling on the already dead lawn. “You must be Noel.”

  “Nolan.”

  He smiles, but it’s fake, barely breaking from his lips.

  “The MUSE mission to Uranus is still several years away from the outer reaches of the solar system, but ESA has turned the probe’s cameras back toward Saturn. This will give us an unprecedented view when Comet An̆duru impacts the twilight zone on the planet—”

  A bottle of wine is thrust into Nolan’s hand along with a warm introduction. “I’m Sue. This is my partner, James.”

  “Please, come in,” Nolan says, stepping back from the doorway and gesturing for them to enter.

  “Hey,” James says, pretending as though the two men have known each other for decades and not mere seconds. They fist bump. For James, there’s vigor in the motion. Nolan is more reserved. He plays along with the social pleasantries that have superseded the handshakes and hugs of yesteryear.

  “—named by amateur astronomer, futurist, and science fiction writer from Sri Lanka, Yudhanjaya Wijeratne.

  “Yudhanjaya discovered the comet using artificial intelligence. He set his computer to trawl through millions of observations made by NASA, looking for unknown objects. Now, John, you’re going to have to help me with the pronunciation of the comet’s name.”

  The letters on the screen look as though they’re from another world.

  “Its official name is Comet 13-2027 An̆duru Kumārayā, meaning ‘dim prince’ in the Sri Lankan language Sinhala.”

  “Jan’s in the kitchen,” Nolan says to Sue, pointing the way.

  “You could call it a dark prince, right?”

  “Dim or dark, either will do. An̆duru has an apparent magnitude of 23. To put that in perspective, it’s as faint as Nix, one of the moons of Pluto. An̆duru is incredibly difficult to see from Earth.”

  “So glad you could make it,” Jan says, poking her head through the open pass-through. Sue joins her while James mills around in the lounge.

  “—all eyes are watching—”

  “You watching the comet, huh?” he says.

  “—waiting for the predicted breakup as the comet passes the Roche limit—”

  “Yeah,” Nolan replies, feeling compelled to be polite but desperately wanting to hear what’s being said.

  “Interesting stuff, isn’t it?” James says.

  Nolan surrenders. As much as he’d like to zone out and watch the impact, he has to be social. Jan would kill him if he disappeared into the study to watch it online.

  “—that tore Shoemaker-Levy 9 apart, but we have yet to see that from Comet 13-2027 An̆duru—”

  “Would you like a beer?” Nolan asks, ignoring the television. He’s determined to play the role of host.

  “Sure. What have you got?”

  It takes everything Nolan has to reply with a smile. Forced conversation is painful at the best of times, let alone when a once-in-a-generation event is unfolding in real-time. A simple, ‘Yes,’ would have sufficed, but James wants to peruse the menu. It’s not like there’s a broad choice of craft brews or a selection of internationally renowned beers in his fridge. If he was offering wine, it might actually matter, but... ah, chill out, Nolan.

  “—with Saturn almost one and a half billion miles away, the impact has already occurred, but we are yet to see it—”

  Nolan says, “There are a couple of Coronas and a Bud Light.”

  “I—Ahhh. Mmmm.”

  Nolan’s already halfway to the kitchen. He pauses, turning back, waiting for James to make a decision. Hell, this ain’t McDonald’s—there are only two goddamn choices!

  “—like someone waiting on mail via the Pony Express in the late 1800s, the speed of light forces us to wait for news from afar—”

  “Do you have any limes?” James asks.

  “Limes?” Nolan replies, raising an eyebrow, surprised by the notion and trying not to sound annoyed. “Yes. I think we have a couple. Would you like one in a Corona?”

  “—with over an hour delay—”

  “I’ll have a Bud Light.”

  For fuck’s sake! Nolan turns away and heads into the kitchen, trying not to slam the swinging half-door off its hinges.

  “How’s it going out there, honey?” Jan asks, smiling warmly.

  “Fine. Good,” Nolan replies, doing his best to remain composed. He opens the fridge and grabs a Bud Light and a Corona, opening both bottles and setting them on the counter. Nolan hesitates. Fuck it—it’s my house! He slices a fresh lime and squeezes a wedge into his beer, pushing the rind down into the neck of the bottle. What the hell? He can always watch a replay on YouTube. Just go with it, Noel—he jokes with himself. Ah, you’re too goddamn uptight. Lime in beer is perfect.

  Jan asks, “Do you want some chips and dip?”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” Nolan says, resigning himself to being hos
pitable. He clips the bottles under the wing of his arm and takes a bowl of chips and an ornate ramekin full of dip from his wife.

  As Nolan walks back into the lounge, he sees James has changed the TV channel.

  “…and the Patriots have scored a third touchdown! We have five minutes remaining in the fourth quarter! Oh, and look at the coach for the Bengals. He is absolutely losing it!”

  “He’s not the only one,” Nolan mutters under his breath. He stands there stunned, on the verge of dropping the chips. The bowl tips. Jan rushes past, taking the bowl and putting it on the coffee table. She grabs the remote. With seasoned practice, she switches back to NASA Live.

  “You’ll have to understand,” she says as the coverage of the comet comes back up. “For us, this is kinda like the Super Bowl.”

  “—if calculations are correct, we should be seeing images any moment now—”

  “Oh,” James says, leaning back on the couch. He’s sitting in Nolan’s spot, facing the screen square on. “Sure. I just figured I’d get a quick update while he was…”

  Nolan puts down the dip and hands James a Bud Light as that particular sentence fades into obscurity.

  “What do you do for a job, Noel?” James asks, quickly correcting himself with, “Nolan?”

  Susan glares at her husband.

  “—here at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory where image processing, color correction, and light enhancement is handled—”

  “I’m in the Air Force.”

  With pride, Jan says, “Nolan’s just been promoted to lieutenant colonel.”

  “Huh?” James says, surprised.

  James is beefy. Broad shoulders. Thick triceps and biceps. Trim stomach. Legs carved from tree trunks. Clearly, he loves the gym.

  Nolan is slight of build. As a pilot, that gave him a little more room in the cramped confines of an F-22 cockpit. On becoming a desk jockey, he had to start watching how many beers he sank. The Battle of the Bulge is being fought yet again.

  Nolan’s shoulders are narrow, but that works to his advantage. Throughout his life, people have underestimated him. The few martial arts moves he’s picked up mean he could put James square on his ass. Oh, if only. Ah, alpha male pissing contests. Would humanity be complete without them? Yeah, don’t answer that, he thinks, moving on mentally.

  Sue says, “You’re in the Air Force? Up at Cheyenne?”

  Closed question.

  Perfect.

  Nolan could simply say ‘Yes.’ He could let the conversation die at that, but tonight’s important to Jan.

  Sue is mentoring Jan through her doctorate in applied psychology. This dinner is Jan’s way of being friendly, showing Sue she’s thankful for her support.

  Nolan met Jan while on rotation in North Carolina. He was a wet-behind-the-ears second lieutenant, fresh out of the academy. She was in college. They had kids shortly after she completed her master’s degree and her studies went on hold. Now, just over two decades later, Jan has to scratch that itch again. It’s not about job opportunities so much as a sense of accomplishment. For Jan, this is an assault on Mt. Everest. She knows she has something to contribute to the field. She’s determined to make up for lost time.

  What’s really important anyway? The interests of his wife, or some dumb comet hitting a gas giant well over a billion miles away? An̆duru’s a novelty, not a necessity. Nolan does his best to ignore the commentary coming from the television.

  “—opportunity to learn about the complex levels within Saturn as Comet An̆duru dives deep into its core, stirring up atmospheric layers—”

  Nolan turns his back on the TV. James and Sue are the center of his attention.

  “I’m only there one day a week. Most of the time, I’m doing data analysis just down the road at Fort Carlson.”

  “Is it just like in the movies?” James asks. “You know, a secret base buried in the heart of a mountain?”

  “An̆duru is hyperbolic. It’s traveling so fast it would fly right through our solar system with only a slight deflection. With a velocity of almost five hundred kilometers per second, An̆duru could cross the entire Continental US in under ten seconds! The kinetic energy of such a massive, fast-moving object is unfathomable, it’s—”

  “Yes, it’s just like the movies,” Nolan says, knowing that’s what everyone wants to hear. This time, his smile is real. To his surprise, Sue is genuinely interested. She hides behind a glass of red wine, holding it near her lips but not sipping, intent on what he has to say. It’s the novelty. Nolan doesn’t understand why, but apparently, he’s more interesting than the comet. Perhaps it’s the personal association with the almost mythical military icon NORAD.

  Jan is happy. This is what she wanted—for everyone to get along. Having a mentor that’s both academically focused and personally supportive is important. Developing a doctorate thesis and mounting a successful defense to earn a Ph.D. is like running an ultra-marathon. She needs a support team. Although science is primarily about what can be documented, it’s also about connections. The days of the lone scientist discovering the secrets of the universe while hidden away in solitude are gone. Now, it’s all about collaboration. If you want to build a penthouse, why start in the mud when there are plenty of skyscrapers you can renovate? In the 21st century, it’s true to say scientists stand on the shoulders of giants perched on the shoulders of other giants, who in turn are standing on, well… Cirque du Soleil, eat your heart out!

  “—if it wasn’t about to hit Saturn, An̆duru would punch clear through our solar system and out the other side—”

  “I work in ECW. Electronic Counter Warfare. Basically, we hack the hackers, or at least, that’s the theory.”

  “Is the base classified?” Sue asks.

  “—JPL is telling us the first images have arrived. They’re being assembled line by line using advanced artificial intelligence to correct for errors—”

  Nolan ignores the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the image changing, flickering as camera angles shift, drawing him in. The allure is hypnotic, but he fights the temptation to look.

  “What happens within the base is classified,” he says. “But the basics are pretty well documented. That big long tunnel you see on TV isn’t for access as such. It’s designed to funnel a nuclear blast straight through the mountain, passing beside the actual base and out the other side. It’s like leaving both doors open and letting the wind blow through your house. No matter how windy it is, it won’t affect the bedrooms, right? Same idea. The base itself is offset, hidden behind massive twenty-ton doors.”

  “Twenty tons? What are they made of?” Sue asks.

  “—and there it is on approach. Comet An̆duru is being pulled in by the astonishing gravity of Saturn, dragged through the rings—”

  “Steel and concrete,” Nolan says. “You know those heist movies where someone robs a bank with a ridiculously thick, safe door? Well, they’re like that, only thicker.”

  James says, “Cool.”

  Although they got off to a rough start, Nolan’s warming to the big guy. If only he can keep his mind focused. The damn commentary on the television is not helping. Maybe Jan should have left the football on.

  “—enhancing theses images with false color to give us a better idea of what’s happening—”

  “Oh, you’ll like this,” Nolan says, immersed in his recollections of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. “We have a Subway in there.”

  “What? Like a train station?”

  “No, Subway sandwiches. You know. Foot-long meatball subs.”

  “—glowing as it heats up on approach—”

  “Really?” Sue asks.

  “Really. I get lunch there all the time. There’s a barber, a dentist, and a whole bunch of stores. Most of them are closed, but they’re ready if needed. The gym is open 24/7. They do spin classes, aerobics. There’s even a sauna.”

  Jan smiles, saying, “Now even I didn’t know that. Seems all the secrets are coming out.”
<
br />   “—punching through the rings—”

  Nolan says, “Oh, yeah, there’s an entire city down there, but most of it is in mothballs. The base itself isn’t in one central location. Instead, there are lots of tunnels cut into the granite. The buildings are mounted on massive steel springs, acting as shock absorbers.”

  “Look, there it is,” Sue says, pointing at the television. “The comet thing! It’s happening!”

  “Oh, yeah,” James says. “This is it!”

  Nolan’s relieved. For the last few minutes, he felt as though he was playing chicken, facing down an eighteen-wheeler as the excitement grew in the commentary behind him. Thankfully, it was their guests that blinked. Jan’s smiling. She knows how his mind works.

  As the comet moves across the night side of the planet, it forms a fiery arc. Compared to Saturn, it’s tiny. A pencil-thin line streaks through the dark clouds.

  “—the speed increases as gravity accelerates the comet—”

  Nolan sits on the arm of the couch. Jan stands next to him, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her fingernails touch the back of his neck. Whether it’s deliberate or subconscious, it tells him she’s happy.

  “—and there it is! Impact! We have contact deep in the southern hemisphere of the planet, well below the rings—”

  Sue sits beside James. Both of them lean back, sinking into the aging couch with its sagging springs. Now that something is actually happening on Saturn, they’re engrossed in the coverage.

  Another commentator says, “An̆duru struck well below Saturn’s equator, at a latitude of approximately 25 degrees. If this was Earth, An̆duru would have hit near the Tropic of Capricorn, in line with Australia and South Africa.”

  There’s no video footage as such, just individual images taken during the impact. The bandwidth between the orbital telescopes and Earth isn’t up to streaming video. For now, it’s a case of sampling images at set intervals. High definition video will come, but not for several days as each frame is meticulously downloaded.

  As the comet moves into the daylight side of Saturn, a black line streaks across the cloud tops. It curves over the colored bands wrapping around the gas giant. It’s as though someone has scratched a glossy photo.