tmp_f59497a75d8ceb820dc0aeddc2b436a0_SyoNZl.fixed.tidied
Page 27
He opened that last one and discovered that the Air Force jacked his ride. With highways swamped, they couldn’t get far by car, and Butler insisted his log cabin, shielded in a ravine in the mountains, was the best place to wait out any meteorites. It had a solid log roof and was well provisioned. Or they could take Butler’s helicopter to safety. Safer than fucking Austin.
He was glad Ann left Austin for Alaska, but a part of him wondered how many sympathy votes he would win if, like LBJ after the assassination of President Kennedy, she didn’t make it. Despite himself, he briefly imagined all the pussy he could get as a single president. Kennedy-class tail, in both quantity and quality. And she did promise to do everything possible to elect him president…
As he marched back to his borrowed car, he realized he needed serious time to strategize. Everything changed since yesterday. How was he going to convince his staff that Jackson should be on the ticket? After bad-mouthing him so much.
Well, Butler’s was as good a place as any to ride out the meteorite shower. What decided it was that he just passed Ajo Highway (AZ-86). From there he could take Mission Road south through the San Xavier del Bac mission site to get to Butler’s place near Keystone Peak in the Sierritas Mountains. The Sierritas had public, state, and private land all mixed together. Butler’s cabin supposedly offered a stunning view west towards Babo. After all, as the professor reminded the public a million times, you can be too close to an asteroid impact, but you can’t be too far away.
33
Someone had moved two televisions from the bedrooms and turned them on MSNBC and Fox News. Because, really, who watches CNN anymore? The professor had hooked up a computer to the main television, a three meter tall 3D monster by Sharp, which showed a chat room on, with lines of dialogue flowing quickly down it. David had an even newer, bigger model in his bedroom to watch high definition 3D porn, but it was too heavy to move downstairs. Everyone seemed to be “talking” at the same time. His father had enlarged the letters – otherwise it would have been impossible to read in real time. Thankfully, everyone had a different color to instantly distinguish between the “speakers.”
Jackson scanned the wall screen, but couldn’t make sense of it. Numbers and equations were interspersed with arc-seconds of resolution, Janskys of measurement, and Doppler shifts.
“How big is it now?” Jackson wanted to know.
“Five kilometers, but it could lose another kilometer before it impacts us.”
“Five?” a cameraman asked. “I thought it was twelve.”
“Originally, when discovering passing Mars, but every out-gassing cost it some mass. Every time it changed course after circling the Sun probably cost it a cubic kilometer. It was shaped like a potato. Now, radar imaging shows its shape is more like a bowling pin flying head first towards us.”
“So it’s only a third as big! That’s great news.”
“Yes. The rock that finished the dinosaurs 65 million years ago was around ten kilometers. It all depends on its speed, angle, and composition. Given the same crushing strength, a slow asteroid can penetrate deeper into our atmosphere than a faster one. Iron-rich rocks naturally hurt more than water-rich ones.”
“That’s great, right?”
“Sure. But we will also be hit by several kilometer’s worth that’s broken off of the main body. This crater will probably be bigger than the 53 mile one in Chesapeake Bay, yet smaller than the 110 mile crater in the Yucatan Peninsula, the 155 mile one in Ontario, and the 236 mile crater in South Africa.”
“So we got a shot? Some of us are gonna make it?”
Jackson cut in. “Look, if you’re gonna ask questions like a reporter, you should introduce yourself.”
The black cameraman suddenly didn’t look too sure.
“I’m not dressed for it,” he answered weakly.
Jackson waved his hands in front of his body. “We’re both in blue jeans and t-shirts. You should at least tell me your name.”
With that, he walked over to shake Jackson’s hand.
“Bond. Larry Bond.”
“Ah jeez. You’re not related to that British spy, are you?”
“Uh, nobody has confused me with Pierce Bronson so far.”
The professor broke the awkwardness.
“Hey, y’all wanna see it?”
Wow, that woke everyone up. Even Lisa abandoned the couch. The professor put up a series of radar images on the wall TV that looked like an embryo in a sonogram, with jerky movements and artificial colors. They didn’t have pictures or video because it only faced Earth’s surface during the day. Which really pissed off everyone who bought an optical telescope. Sure enough, Bond saw that it looked like a pencil with an eraser head, rotating on its long axis like a thrown football instead of tumbling head over tail like most asteroids.
It was beautiful, in an unsettling way.
“How different will it be from the movie?” Bond asked.
The Jackson Space Foundation funded a 3D disaster movie made by Brave New Films called “Regolith” as soon as astronomers discovered Gabrielle over a year ago. Their script, unlike other end-of-the-world stories, emphasized the weeks immediately after the impact, when governments collapsed, civil society broke down, borders became meaningless, and armed gangs fought over control and limited resources within ruined cities.
Because astronomers projected Gabrielle would become visible to the naked eye, Hollywood knew they had a blockbuster on their hands. It was free publicity guaranteed to literally catch the eye of every sentient being in the world. And a few Teabaggers. While fully funding it guaranteed it would be made, Tom Hanks signing on early ensured its success.
Hollywood has a saying: making a movie is easy -- it’s making a movie that people pay $10 bucks to see that is hard.
To give it added credibility, they showed a mini-documentary before the movie where the director of Spacewatch used computer animation to illustrate several variations of what would happen if Gabrielle actually impacted Earth, and what they should do to best prepare themselves. On a gut level, this made their fictional movie far more “real”. Instead of just another disaster move, this was what could happen if the Rock hit us.
They wrote the script for a global audience, with an ancient Mayan prophet declaring the end of the world in 2012. They even stole from Titanic by killing the protagonist, the Spacewatch director played by Tom Hanks, after he selflessly saved so many and suffered so much. The real tearjerker was the asteroid killing the director’s granddaughter, played by no other than Lisa, the real director’s granddaughter, as she sang the national anthem at the SuperBowl, which she actually did in 2008. As Voltaire once put it, it isn’t a tragedy if you don’t kill the most likeable character.
Ostensibly, this role was the excuse Lorena used to get Lisa breast implants. Lisa was also the one who came up with the winning tag line: “This time, we’re the dinosaurs.”
Riding a tsunami of rising hysteria, Regolith 3D quickly became the highest grossing movie of all time, sinking Titanic. Only five films had ever broke the billion dollar barrier, and the hype leading up to its world-wide release helped the movie smash that barrier in just nine days. Everyone in the world wanted to see what they were up against and, upon leaving the theater, freaked the fuck out. It wasn’t until the movie came out that hundreds of millions of people started fleeing coastlines and heading towards the poles. Hundreds of millions more reinforced their homes or build concrete shelters in their backyard.
The villain in the movie? A wink-a-holic president who claimed Democrats were anti-Christian, terrorist-sympathizing, traitorous fake Americans who hated their country -- in other words, who looked and sounded just like clueless Sarah Palin.
The movie accurately summarized how Republicans gutted our planetary defenses. Nixon slashed NASA’s funding by 60% as soon as he entered office to boost funding for the war in Vietnam. Half a century later, President Kennedy’s Saturn V is still the most powerful rocket ever launched -- sad testament to
the political leadership of space exploration. The trillion wasted on Vietnam would have funded bases on the Moon and settlements on Mars.
In all, America alone spent $250 billion on the shuttle and the ISS, and got very little in return. During W’s presidency, the shuttle program cost $5 billion anually and averaged just one launch a year. If Bush shifted funding from the shuttle to its replacement, the Orion, the $50 billion saved would have funded its development and deployment. Instead, Bush left us with no replacement for the space shuttle.
In the end, the movie Regolith did more to help people prepare than anything else. Yet Jackson didn’t yet get the irony of having a similar scenario actually come true.
“The real rock is smaller, so it won’t be quite as bad.”
“Well,” Bond replied, “it killed six billion people in the movie, so that’s not comforting.”
“This one will probably only kill half that many,” the professor predicted, on fucking camera, not knowing that billions of people would soon freak out at hearing his estimate.
34
A burst of laughter shut everyone up.
“The Tea Baggers in Key West can’t leave,” Lisa suddenly interjected. She apparently thought this was hilarious as she turned up the TVs. Any group that names itself after a slang term for sucking balls deserves ridicule. “A trailer truck full of gravel flipped over on the airport runway.”
Fox News ridiculed Jackson so much that he went on Glenn Beck’s show after the movie’s debut to announce that he would pay $1 million for every Republican congressman who spent January 8th in Key West, and $3 million for every sitting senator. Beck, pointing out Republicans could raise a billion, naturally asked him if he was serious.
“Get me a Bible,” he commanded, which sent staffers scrambling. After the break, he put his hand on the Bible and swore it, plus $1000 for every Teabagger and $10 million in hard money contributions if Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Bill O’Reilly, and Ann Coulter stayed as well. Beck, like most of his viewership, eagerly accepted.
For months Fox News, conservative talk radio, and the Palin Administration made light of the asteroid danger, ridiculing Jackson and Democrats for scaring people for partisan profit. Now Jackson challenged their biggest mouth pieces to put up or shut up.
January 7th saw millions of Teabaggers partying like there was no tomorrow, even while news networks filmed long lines of Key West natives fleeing up the Overseas Highway to the Florida peninsula. Even those who stayed for Hurricane Wilma in 2005 left. The military already evacuated the Naval Air Station.
Americans love Key West because it is the Caribbean without the Caribbean-ers. The Caribbean suffers from extreme poverty, too many of whom get by via crime and begging in bad Creole English. So Key West is like the Caribbean without non-Americans. Shit works, from telephones to Internet, and you don’t have to fear beggars and thieves. Only 2 miles by 4 miles, and closer to Havana than Miami, Key West is like the American Virgin Islands without the poor Virgin Islanders.
While millions of Teabaggers in Florida seemed oblivious to the danger, their elected leaders were not. First, they took over the National Weather Forecasting building on White Street which was designed to withstand a Category 5 hurricane. Then they came in small airplanes, which they had refueled and ready for takeoff.
So they were able to talk smack on Rush Limbaugh’s three hour radio program, and look brave to Fox News viewers. But, as soon as Limbaugh’s show was over, at 3:00 p.m. local time, they were out of there. So the sight of the GOP leadership in the House and Senate looking dumbfounded at the overturned gravel truck in the middle of the runway was simply priceless.
Definitely worth the million bucks.
Jackson carefully hid his satisfaction. He didn’t know he would get their reaction on live TV. How fucking awesome! This was the best million bucks he ever spent. If his truck driver got away, that is. If so, then he was hauling ass on a Ninja motorcycle to a hidden plane he had waiting along Alligator Alley.
Jackson knew they couldn’t leave before Rush Limbaugh, and he knew Rush wasn’t going to fucking stay. He would have driven his Maybach 57S from Palm Beach instead of flying his Gulfstream if he was going to stay til Tuesday and score $10 million for Republicans. Sure enough, there was Limbaugh getting out of his Gulfstream G550, a bunch of bewildered Republican congressmen behind him, a look of sheer disbelief on his face.
“Jackson!” he yelled into the cameras, fist raised.
Jackson laughed and turned to his own cameras.
“Is that thrice-divorced fat drug addict actually blaming me? I’m out $10 million if he stays. Go, fat-ass, go! Hell,” he said, checking his watch, “they have 15 hours if they want to welsh on our bet. Even someone as fat and doped up as Limbaugh can reach the Miami airport by then.”
Which, fortunately, wasn’t true, since thousands of Teabaggers were holding a tailgate party up and down the Overseas Highway, effectively blocking it. In their minds, anyone who left cost their candidates money. Other Teabaggers partied on other islands, and some even invaded the Naval Air Station. Because they could. They apparently believed that a large meteorite striking nearby was just a liberal media conspiracy.
Just because there are no laws against stupidity doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be punished.
“They have lots of ways to get out. Move that damn truck and fly out, call for helicopters, take a boat to Miami, or just drive north like everyone else. In five hours they could drive to Orlando, or go a little farther to Ocala or Gainesville. It’s not like there are cops who will give them tickets. You have enough time to ride bicycles to Miami, you bunch of dumb ignorant wussies!”
Jackson smiled broadly at the Fox News camera, knowing that his message would soon be delivered. Shit, he wouldn’t mind arguing with Rush all day long if Fox permitted it. They weren’t going to get away anyways. None of them thought to take a yacht, and any boat worth stealing was already up the Mississippi River.
Sure enough, Fox played his response on the air. Jackson laughed as Rush and a bunch of Republican congressmen started yelling at their Fox camera. Lisa thankfully muted the TV, so all they heard was Lisa laughing hysterically on the couch, which Fox would probably air as well. They are all going to die, and Lisa found that funny.
Jackson happily watched Beck, O’Reilly, Hannity, Coulter, and Limbaugh go berserk on TV. All those years justifying whatever Bush did was now going to bite them in the ass. Republicans were finally going to suffer from promoting incompetence, cronyism, and ignorance.
Progressives believe you can’t have freedom without government (anarchy isn’t freedom), and conservatives believe you can’t have freedom with government. Conservatives believe larger government comes at the expense of individual freedom, while progressives believe effective government is the prerequisite for individual freedom. You cannot have individual rights without a government that punishes those who violate those rights. A market isn’t “free” without government regulations that ensure a level playing field. Individuals can only be free in a system that is fair -- how free were women and minorities when they couldn’t vote, hold elective office, or work in prosperous professions? A responsive government is not the enemy of freedom, but the prerequisite of freedom.
In the chaos this asteroid was likely to bring, conservatives were finally gonna get the small, weak government they say they have always wanted. And without government protection, the Haves were probably gonna lose their stuff to the armed, angry Have-nots.
35
If the world wasn’t going to end, this could have been fun, Lorena thought to herself as she maneuvered around another rock. She slammed the brakes and straightened the Suburban as she descended almost straight down another slope. Then she raced down a dry gully and up an embankment. Oddly, she was far more aggressive in the huge Suburban than she ever was on Lisa’s dirt bike. And she didn’t even have to get dirty.
But, no matter how fast she drove, Chava kept out-pacing her. It wa
sn’t a race. They were just trying to get home as quickly as possible. What was more humbling is that he drove the professor’s old F-150 hauling a flatbed trailer full of mattresses.
She couldn’t believe the faggot was out-driving her.
She rose over a hilltop that gave her a great view of Highway 19, the one-lane road with four lanes crawling north. Even using both shoulders, they still drove slower than the Mexicans flying past them on horseback.
“Hijo de su madre!” she yelped out loud as she skidded downhill. Chava materialized far to her right, so she inched her way towards him. Like war and sex, it was both exhilarating and exhausting. Well, if a space mountain wasn’t about to strike forty miles away on Kitt Peak, it would have been exhilarating.
Concentrating to avoid flipping over as she descended the slope, she nearly pissed herself when she heard a horn honk to her left. Startled, she turned her head to see Rance lift his motorcycle helmet visor up and smile that sexy smile of his.