“What happened?” Asher inquired as people ran in every direction around them.
She didn’t reply until they were out the back door. He blinked furiously while keeping up with her. “Bear spray. I saw he had a gun and I knew he wasn’t being truthful about his intentions.”
“You got that right,” he said while blinking furiously. “I thought you were really giving up on me. Thanks for believing me.”
She stopped once they were in the backyard of the visitor’s center. There were no fences around, and the flat yard was well-tended, so she had a direct view of her truck, still parked in the grass nearby. “You’re welcome. It was the brother thing that gave it away. He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky. I mean, come on, he speaks with an accent!”
They shared some laughter for a handful of seconds, but when they didn’t move, he immediately got anxious. “Why aren’t we driving away?”
“The older gentleman working the desk inside isn’t going to be any help to us if guns are involved, so I’m waiting to see if the police arrive. Someone with a gun should be coming to check out what just happened.”
People still poured out the front door of the brick house, causing those waiting on the front lawn to scatter as well. From her perspective at the back corner of the building, all she saw were the tourists running away from her. After a minute or two had gone by, the number of people dwindled dramatically, which would make her and Asher stand out if they tried to walk away.
“I don’t hear sirens,” Asher lamented.
“Me, either. Okay. New Plan. If the police aren’t coming to us, we’ll go to them. We’re going to the police station. It’s not far.” She tugged on his sports jacket. “Head for the truck.”
Asher’s eyes were red and puffy, but he didn’t seem to be temporarily blinded. He looked to her truck, nodded to her, then ran for it. She followed, ever alert for the man with the gun. If there was one lesson to know about bear spray, it was that it didn’t last forever.
Kentucky
Ezra and Susan headed back to Roger’s home after finally completing Babs’s survey of the Happy Cove subdivision. Notes filled his sheet of paper, and he thought he’d done a pretty good job with it, although he’d intended to go out and get some people on his side. He was less than thrilled to hear several of his fellow homeowners give props to Babs, rather than be receptive to his ideas. After he shut the door and it was only him and Susan, he fake-screamed. “This is crazy! How did that old bag get voted into a position of power? She’s not qualified to lead a dog on a leash; how is she leading our neighbors so far astray?”
Susan chuckled sympathetically. “No one else wanted the job, remember?”
He ground his teeth together, unwilling to concede the obvious point so readily. She knew his inner workings better than anyone, so she drilled it home.
“I asked you to run against her, and what did you say?”
Ezra looked sheepishly at his wife. “I said I had better things to do than compete in a high school drama.” He warmed up to the argument. “That’s all it was with these people. Who has the ugliest lawn? Who rents their docks to outsiders? Who is sleeping up and down the street? It’s worse than high school—it’s middle school.”
She shrugged. “Some people like living in drama. If you’d won, you’d probably tell everyone to stop whining and solve their own problems. For some, it would have been wonderful, although I think you’d be surprised by the number of folks who always want to be told what to do.”
He sat on Roger’s recliner, leaning heavily toward the back. “Well, I don’t think now is the time to hold a vote. What should I do?”
Susan came over and sat on his knee, making him sit up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and faced toward him. “Focus on what you can control. That’s what you always tell me when I get my panic attacks.”
He’d not brought up the incident in the lake the day before. It was obvious to both of them it was a high-stress situation and if there was ever a right place to freak out, it was after a meteorite struck the nearest town and flipped your boat. Regardless, even with everything going on, he thought of ways to limit her exposure to the worst of his stresses. So far, he’d done a lousy job of it.
“Hey,” he said brightly while clapping his hands a single time, “why don’t we try calling Grace again? Maybe this time the connection will go through.”
Susan smiled and a twinkle of mirth appeared in her eyes. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
He feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”
She pushed off the chair and stood up. Instead of stepping away, she clapped her hands one time, right in his face. “This. You’ve got to do better than that, dear husband of mine.”
He sighed, lifting himself out of the comfortable chair. It was his turn to wrap his arms around her waist. “I’ll work on it.” They embraced in a kiss for half a minute. It was a short respite from the lingering tension from Susan’s attack, the ash heap that was once their house, and what would happen up on the road. When he was done, he was tempted to clap again, but he knew the time for mirth had passed.
“Let’s try calling our daughter again,” she suggested.
Texas
After the Homeland Security secretary left, Petteri decided it was time to press his people down in the operations room. As he’d done with his phase one team, he went downstairs, intending to pop into their room unannounced and throw them off balance. It was part power trip, but it also served the purpose of getting people to speak from the heart, not the brain. It tended to keep them honest.
When he opened the door, he was left speechless; only one person was inside.
“Where’s my team?” Petteri heard what came out of his mouth and realized he sounded consternated, so he straightened his back and spoke with resolve. “There are supposed to be eight geniuses answering my big question. I only see one.”
A young woman at the far end of the conference table lifted her head above a laptop screen. She looked around, as if hoping someone else would answer the question, but it appeared she was as surprised as he was. “After seeing your data, people have been sneaking out all day. They think we’re doomed.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said with disappointment; he’d had high hopes for the best and brightest minds. Petteri walked to the closest phone on the conference table and dialed his man, who immediately picked up.
“This is Howard.”
“Yes, I’ve just been informed some of our guests from the operations conference room have stepped out. Would you kindly tell me if you know where they are? I wouldn’t want them to get lost.” Petteri used his polite voice for the sake of the young woman; he remembered she was a Nobel laureate of something or other. Not someone who would likely enjoy knowing how the sausage got made.
“We caught them leaving in ones and twos, sir. I’ve placed them in the holding room with all the others, including the phase one team. In the absence of new orders, I’ve been following your original directive. No one gets out until you tell me.”
By Petteri’s estimation, the major was worth his weight in gold; in time, if he could cash in on the contents of the asteroid heading toward Earth, he might even make his executive officer such a statue. He tempered his response, in case the woman was paying attention. It would do no good for her to think anything had happened to the others. “I’m glad they’re safe. We’ll talk about where they’re going next very soon. Thank you. Carry on.” He gently put the phone back in the cradle.
“Ma’am, did the others say anything before they abandoned you? Why didn’t you go, too?”
She still peered at him from behind her screen, like a kitten afraid to come out of its hiding spot. It made her seem small and timid, which he assumed was due to who he was. The boss.
“The others left because they wanted to get back to their loved ones. Your big question, as you say, is a classic Kobayashi Maru scenario.”
“A what?” he replied with caution.
“It means this was a no-win situation. You sent us data and asked us to park your big asteroid in orbit around the Earth. If we were brought in the second it missed the moon, maybe we could have worked some magic; at this point, it can’t be done. The Tuonela is going to crash into Earth. That’s why the others left. I, however, stayed for the payout.”
He’d been careful to take away all methods of communication for the participants; once they knew the risks of failure, they’d naturally try to warn their families and friends. He couldn’t afford such a leak. “So, this is about money for you?”
She remained in her seat but lifted her head a bit higher. Her straight black hair was parted in the middle, and no effort was made to style it. “If you want me to keep working on this, I’d kindly request all my cash be converted into today’s precious metals market value. I want the physical gold piled right here.” She tapped the table.
“That seems rather, uh, rudimentary.” He didn’t care either way. A million dollars was spare change to him, no matter if it was bullion or paper money. Petteri found himself more interested in the woman’s frame of mind. “How old are you, if I may ask?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“You seem well-seasoned for such a young age. Here you are, brokering deals for your financial future and sticking around when everyone else runs away. I don’t say this very often: I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” she said while spinning her laptop around, showing the screen. “I’m also doing all this because of our shared problem. The Petteri-2 is hauling a load of buckshot, sir. If you don’t act before it reaches Earth’s orbit, it will most likely fracture and split, same as it did when it went by the moon. Only this time, the pieces are going to fall down in one big splat.” She hit the heavy marble conference table. “And, right now, that splat is going to take place in the middle of Canada.”
“No; your task was to defy the numbers. That’s why I brought you all together.” He couldn’t accept his brilliant scheme had run its course. His other scientists—the run-of-the-mill PhDs in the space center—were unable to come up with a stable orbital solution, so he reassured them he had the answer. He’d gone to great lengths to convince them his company would figure it out, just like he’d glossed over the possibility of an impact in his discussion with Mr. Stricker. “I always beat the odds.”
“Not this time. Your people are still trying to push it away from Earth to find the ideal orbit. It’s too late for that, and, as a result, when you figure out it can’t be done, the rock is going to come down at a steep angle. Like a bullet into the side of a gourd. It’s going to be catastrophic for the planet. Your ship needs to shove it a little toward the Earth, so it hits the proper re-entry window and comes in shallow, like a skipping rock. Once you do that, it will hit where I said—Canada.”
“On us,” he deadpanned.
“Either some Canucks die, or the whole world dies. I’m assuming you’ll pick the former; it’s why I stuck around. Either way, I think the American dollar will be worthless soon, so, yeah, I’d like gold.”
“Intentionally ram the planet?” he whispered to himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about the possibility. Seeing seven empty seats in the conference room brought it into clear, terrible focus.
“You gotta do what you gotta do,” she said with new confidence.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, impressed at her forthrightness.
“Before I met you, I was Dorothy Eversmith. I won a Nobel for my dissertation on hauling space rocks out of the Edgeworth–Kuiper asteroid belt and crashing them into the moon. It was supposed to power a generation of space and technology exploration. Save the world. That type of stuff. Sound familiar?”
TKM might have borrowed some of her ideas. He grunted, before she went on.
“But right now, I’m a woman looking down the barrel of a gun. I figure you’re the one person on Earth who can make this right. And, if you can’t, you’re probably the one guy with a plan to make himself right. Am I close?”
Petteri picked up the phone again. Howard answered before the first ring completed. “Get the helicopter ready. We’re going to the airport. I’ll have one guest with me.”
He hung up the phone and smiled. “I always beat the odds.”
Chapter 11
Yellowstone
Asher jumped into the front seat of Grace’s truck and was already looking at her when she climbed in. “Wow. All I can say is wow. You are the best park ranger I’ve ever seen.”
She started the car with a chuckle. “Be sure to tell my supervisor.” She’d done enough damage to her truck to get kicked out of the park service for sure, and maybe discharging the bear spray in a crowd of people would get her tossed in jail. Any positive feedback from third parties would be helpful to her.
“I will,” he said with determination, checking his watch again.
Grace didn’t put the truck in reverse to get back on the street. For one, the TKM truck was behind her. For another, the panicked tourists ran like headless chickens on the road, and once they got in their vehicles, that chaos would flow out onto the streets around the visitor’s center. The only way for her to get moving was to go forward on the grass.
“Buckle up, Asher, we’re doing something else illegal.” She spun the tires on the lawn, causing a slight fishtail of the rear end before Grace straightened it out and took them behind the visitor’s center.
“I’m ready for anything,” he replied, yanking at the seatbelt as instructed.
Cultivated grass was an oddity in the national park, though it grew nicely around the visitor’s center and the adjacent Victorian-style homes. Tall, leafy trees dotted the yards of the big stone houses up and down the street, and a second row of houses sat behind the first. Since there were no fences or hedges, she basically had two football fields lined up end to end where she could maneuver. Grace veered the truck to the right, tearing up more of the grass, then headed down the length of the empty backyards.
“Woo-hoo! We made it out of that scrape.” She checked the rearview, to ensure Misha wasn’t following. While her eyes were on the mirror, she noticed soot smudges on her cheeks, but was more concerned with her hair. She’d gotten it cut shorter than she was used to when she’d started at Yellowstone earlier in the summer. Now it was down to her shoulders and in need of a trim. It was supposed to be up, so it would stay in her hat, but a few blonde locks hung below the brim in ratty knots. “Jeez, I’m a real mess. I—”
Her phone rang, or more accurately, it meowed.
Asher snickered. “Seriously? Is that your official park ranger ringtone?”
“Shut up,” she replied, full of mirth.
She held the wheel with one hand while pulling the device from her pocket. Each series of rings got louder, as if the cat was demanding her attention. Her heart leapt when the number on the screen carried a Kentucky area code; it could be her mom and dad.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Grace. Thank God it’s you.”
She almost squealed with excitement at hearing her dad’s voice. “And I can’t believe it’s you! Are you safe? Is Mom okay? I tried calling, but the answering machine wasn’t on. I was told a meteor hit Paducah. Did you know another one came down here?”
“Whoa! Slow down. Your mother and I are safe. Everything’s fine with us, though the answering machine is…broken. What about you? A meteorite hit out there?” He was always practical, which she appreciated, and his example helped her act responsible and in charge in the presence of park visitors like Asher. His calm tone helped keep her from stopping the truck, getting out, and dancing with reckless abandon to celebrate the safety of her parents.
“Yes, that’s correct. We had one drop into the lake, and I actually got hit by a fish from the splash it created. No one got seriously hurt. I was outside with most everyone else because my campfire program was about the meteor shower. It was nothing like what they said it would be,
Dad. Was it bad there, too? I saw a big one fly overhead; it had to be the one that hit you guys.”
Her dad sighed heavily. “You won’t recognize the subdivision when you come home, let me say that up front; Paducah took it on the chin. I think the whole area north of the lake might be gone. Roger and Ethel didn’t make it.” His voice got quieter as he finished.
She’d known the older couple her whole life, yet even such rotten news didn’t faze her like it should. Grace guided the truck around one of the tree trunks, and kept the speed at about ten miles per hour as she drove on the grass toward the far end of the block. Her neighbors back home might have been dead, but both of her parents were alive. Finally knowing their fate kept her going.
There was so much she wanted to say, when Asher caught her attention by tapping her elbow. At first, she looked outside, thinking trouble was brewing outside, but he firmed his grip until she looked at him. He whispered. “Tell them to find hard cover, Grace. There are more rocks about to drop down on us. Many more.”
Her dad noticed her pause. “Are you all right, Grace?”
I’m running from an assassin while protecting a whistle-blower. I’m fine. How are you?
Instead of blurting out those words, she cleared her throat and took a different tack. “Dad, listen. I’m with someone. A scientist. He works for Tikkanen Kinetic Mining…” She wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding crazy, so she simply got it out. “He says there’s more rocks coming down.”
She looked over to Asher. “When?”
He glanced out his window for a second. “Tonight, around eight or nine central time. It depends on how the space tug handles the rock.”
Her dad waited in her ear as she leaned over to whisper to Asher. “How do you know for sure?”
Asher didn’t look at her, just tapped his watch. “You’ll have to trust me.”
Impact (Book 1): Inbound Page 10