At this point Suri clicked the PowerPoint through to a slide containing a graphic showing a small comet hurtling toward the inner part of the solar system.
“As J312 gets closer to the Sun, it will get smaller because the Sun will sublimate it—turn the ices into gases. Since its outer layers have different compositions, they will sublimate at different speeds, which will make the comet’s path move. Inside this comet, a pocket below the surface contains a large amount of gaseous ammonia. When the Sun melts the outer layer, the ammonia will shoot out, causing it to act as a sort of jet—”
“So it might not hit us? We don’t really know yet what its exact trajectory is, right?” Public Relations Daniel Atkins asked optimistically.
“Well, no—” Suri began.
Dr. Miller jumped in. “Daniel, while it is true that it may not hit us, it is extremely likely that it will. Based on our calculations I’m comfortable telling you—off the record—that it is ninety-nine-point-nine percent likely to hit Earth. Let’s plan for this impact, so that if it does our species won’t be exterminated.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, and one of the politicians asked, “And how exactly did you find this comet?”
“I found it when Dr. Miller gave me the project of going through the LSST’s most recent photographs and data dump.”
“Would you mind explaining this, please?” General Diaz cut in with his rough voice.
“Um, sure,” Suri answered. “So the LSST, or Large Sky Survey Telescope, is a very expensive telescope that takes pictures of the sky. Every night it takes dozens of photos, along with all sorts of data to sort through. Basically, different research teams will lobby for different parts of the sky to be photographed. So we take the pictures, and then anyone can use the information—it’s open source. So the photos taken on December 4th, 2015, of a region in between the orbits of Uranus and Neptune, were originally asked for by a Russian research team.
“Dr. Miller gave me the task of checking this data, which is something I do a lot here. Once I crunched the numbers, I spotted an abnormally large and very dark comet coming toward the Sun, at a relatively fast speed. After some very preliminary modeling, we found the collision date. We confirmed this using three different telescopes.”
The Secretary of State stopped Suri with a question. “This data that you looked through, did the Russians give it to you?”
“Um, no, Dr. Miller did,” Suri replied.
Dr. Miller realized what the Secretary was getting at. He was wondering if the data was faulty and if the Russians were using this comet as a diversion for something. Robert answered the question. “The data is open source, which means anyone can view and download it. Once the LSST takes the photos, scientists from all over the world have access. The data is protected from tampering, so there’s no chance that Russia altered it.”
At this point, Secretary of State Brighton spoke up. “The president has asked us to freeze this data to anyone who hasn’t already downloaded it. We have already done this. As of two hours ago the data you now possess, along with access to the LSST satellite, is your own. PR will figure out something to tell the other nations and scientists to explain why the data is no longer open source.”
“Wait a minute!” Robert said. “You want to keep them in the dark?”
“It’s a matter of national security,” Secretary Brighton said.
“But—” Robert thought of his plan to include other top scientists in his team.
“You’ll have complete access to all data for anything related to Comet J312.”
“I don’t need more data! I need every single intelligent mind we’ve got—especially the astronomers,” Robert interjected angrily. “This includes those from other nations. They may have ideas that could save the world!”
“Dr. Miller, it is of utmost importance that we maintain order. If the public were to know that the world may very well end within the next three years, who would follow laws? Who would pay the taxes we’ll need to pay for this project? For now, we must keep them in the dark. This is of paramount importance to our survival. We might have a bona fide two and a half year countdown, but do not underestimate the power of chaos and fear. If we let this go to the public now, our clock may expire much sooner.”
So, they want to keep it all a secret, Robert thought angrily. We’ll see how long that lasts. Dr. Miller turned his attention back to Suri, who was waiting to continue.
Suri clicked to the next slide of her PowerPoint. “One thing we are working on is predicting how the comet’s trajectory will change as it melts. This, coupled with Dr. Miller’s plan to move the comet out of our orbit, may give us a chance at survival.” She turned to Dr. Miller and sat down.
Dr. Miller leveled his eyes at the politicians on the screen. “Moving the comet may require the use of nuclear weapons. I suggest that we start centrifuging as much plutonium as we can in order to prepare. I also ask for the top nuclear physicists to be relocated to Houston so they can work with us.”
“Dr. Miller,” General Diaz said, stiffening, “we will begin production of whatever hardware you need. But plutonium production will bring instability. What is to stop other nations proliferating their own nuclear weapons capabilities when they see we are strengthening ours?”
“Chairman Diaz,” Robert responded, “like it or not, nuclear bombs may be our most successful weapon against the comet. This endeavor will go beyond our international borders; this must be a global effort to halt something that doesn’t just threaten democracy, or freedom. It threatens the entire human race.”
“It’s General Diaz,” General Diaz corrected, before adding, “So nuclear weapons are the leading strategy?”
“For now, yes,” Robert answered.
“And how do you plan on deploying them?”
“We will design rockets that can deploy them at the comet. This is new territory for all scientists, and something we have never tried to do before,” Suri added.
“Do you think it can work?” Secretary Brighton asked.
“It’s possible, but we can’t do it in the dark,” Robert responded.
“I understand your point,” the Secretary explained, “but for now, let’s keep this information secure. In the meantime, make a list of your top scientists—your dream team, if you will. We’ll use our channels of diplomacy to recruit them and bring them here to JSC. For now, JSC will be our base of operations.
“This project will go under the name Project Mars. Since we have to publish our budget we can use a cover about a project to send astronauts to Mars. There is already a team of Secret Service agents and Army and Marine forces dedicated to ensuring the security of Project Mars. You can imagine how crazy our country will become if people realize it very well may end in less than three years.”
The Secretary straightened his tie. “This is not a threat. But consider: our country has always been one where freedom and democracy thrive, but we also have a strong streak of individualism that may hamper the effectiveness of everyone to stop an extinction-level event from occurring. Imagine what a countdown clock might do to the Rule of Law. That is where you come in, Mr. Atkins.”
“Yes, sir,” Daniel said while composing himself.
“That goes for all of you. You cannot speak to anyone about your work here. You are working on a new mission to reassert our dominance of the last frontier—space. Obviously secrecy is best, but to your family and close friends, you will be working to put a man on Mars. I understand that eventually the truth will come out—it always does, but the longer we can work silently, diligently, and purposefully, the more of a chance we have. This is a matter of global security. Do not speak of this to anyone.”
After looking around the room to ensure everyone would follow his guidelines of secrecy, Secretary Brighton added, “Now, I believe we have another issue to address.” He turned to Director Goodrich. “You have failed. Explain to us why Russia told us of the comet a full two weeks ago and you did nothing.”
 
; “Sir, I didn’t think—” Director Goodrich began.
“What?!” Dr. Miller exclaimed angrily, cutting the director off. He looked mad enough to have steam coming from his ears. “We’ve wasted two weeks of work because you didn’t want to tell anyone?”
Robert fumed at the ashamed NASA director. Suri was surprised he wasn’t swearing yet.
“Well . . . ” The Secretary of State looked contemptuously at the NASA director before continuing. “ . . . it’s time for us to get on the same page, then. We’ve known about the meteor for two weeks. Russian intelligence sent us the information.”
“Comet . . . ” Suri muttered, but no one heard her.
“I can’t believe this—” Robert began a tirade of curses.
Oh well, Suri thought, so much for no swearing.
The Secretary continued unperturbed. “We gave the go-ahead to Director Goodrich to share this information with a specialized task force last week, but evidently he has become a bit depressed, and found no reason to begin an effort to save the planet.”
“It’s hopeless . . . forty kilometers across . . . ” The director admitted, rubbing his eyes.
“Coward,” Robert said.
“I couldn’t agree more, Dr. Miller. What we need now are people, like you and Dr. Lahdka, who will fight to the last second against this inanimate foe. You will, I assume, fight?”
Dr. Miller, who was never a very patriotic person, stood up straight then, standing to attention for the Secretary. “Yes, I will.”
He looked at Suri, who swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I will.”
“Excellent. Well, then, let’s get to work. Secretary of Energy Mahoney, start on the plutonium, and I will speak to you in two weeks about the progress. Spare no expense. Now, for our communication . . . ” A bald Secret Service agent stepped forward, unsmiling, and began to hand out small boxes to everyone at the table, and Secretary Brighton continued, “These are end-to-end encrypted phones. Dr. Miller, here are five phones—one for yourself, and four for the rest of your team—and flash drives with all the information Russia gave us regarding the comet. I will be your official liaison with the White House, but understand I also have to be running our foreign policy.
“We will speak soon, and I expect a report of what you are doing in seven days. Meanwhile, I will schedule a visit to JSC by the president. Don’t worry, she is not nearly as dominating in real life as she was in those debates.”
Secretary Brighton exhaled a deep sigh. “This meeting is adjourned. May God be with you.”
Jeremy drove toward Anna’s house for dinner. He had been working at the JSC with his father for four weeks, and even though his father still had him doing the dirty work, he was enjoying it greatly. Right after school from Monday to Wednesday he would work for a few hours with his father, making money and getting experience in the real world. He rapidly learned it was much different than school.
The lighting project his dad had him working on was a great success. It was such a big success, in fact, that they asked him to retrofit another wing of the JSC as well. Jeremy asked if this would mean he would get a raise.
His father thought this was very funny.
“Yeah, when pigs fly, Jer,” he said, but after work one day he gave Jeremy an extra hundred dollar bill, winking as he did.
Jeremy had only two true anxieties about his life: one, how his basketball team would do this season—they had been projected as one of the best teams in their division—and two, his girlfriend Anna’s questions about their relationship after high school. Anna had a tendency to think too far in advance, and sometimes this made Jeremy’s job of living in the present more difficult. Now, however, he had a new worry. Lately, at the JSC, Jeremy had noticed something strange going on. He had decided to talk to Anna about it. Maybe she would tell him that he was just being paranoid.
Dinner with Anna’s family was nice. They were a very traditional and conservative family. It made Anna stand out, since she had a nose piercing and dark red hair, compared with her blonde family. She dyed her hair that way, and Jeremy thought it looked good—almost more natural than the blonde hair she used to have. Her father worked for an oil company, one of the biggest in Houston, which accounted for their remarkable wealth.
After dinner, Jeremy finally had the chance to tell Anna about his suspicions about the JSC. Anna lived in River Oaks, which was one of the nicest residential areas in Houston, so they went for a walk among the large Victorian and French–style mansions.
Anna was talking about something but Jeremy had trouble paying attention. Finally, he interrupted her:
“Something weird is going on at the Johnson Space Center.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked with wide eyes, as they walked by the nicely cut lawns and impeccable rose bushes.
“I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.” Jeremy replied, losing confidence. He’d been at the JSC for over a month, crawling around the ceiling, climbing ladders near top-secret conversations, and fetching tools for his father, so the place had started to look familiar. He started noticing changes happening at the JSC that just didn’t make sense to him.
“Come on, even if it’s nothing, just tell me. You brought it up for a reason, right?” Anna said, a little annoyed.
“Well, okay. I’m probably crazy, but lately I’ve noticed so many security guards there, and they all are dressed in really nice suits, and they all have earpieces.”
“Maybe the president is going to visit?” Anna mused.
Jeremy frowned. “Could be, but it’s been a month and the security is only increasing. Wouldn’t the president have come and gone by now? And yesterday . . . well, I spend a lot of time in the ceiling, running lighting fixtures, and the main hub of wiring is above this small closet. I’ve caught like ten people crying in that closet! At first I thought it was just a bad breakup or something, because a girl was tapping her phone over and over again, but the next day, it was a different girl. And then two guys, crying together!”
“A crying closet,” Anna mused. “That is weird.”
“And today a bunch of foreign scientists showed up. I even looked some of them up. Five of them are Russian nuclear physicists.”
“Whoa. That’s weird. I thought Russia and the U.S. didn’t get along, especially with nuclear stuff,” Anna commented.
“Yeah, it’s weird . . . ” Jeremy rubbed his chin as a posh woman strolled by walking a Pomeranian.
When the woman was out of earshot, Jeremy asked, “Do you want to help me find out what’s going on? It could be nothing, but it would be fun!”
“You mean an adventure?” Anna frowned. “You’re asking me out on an adventure date, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Of course!” Anna slung her arms around Jeremy’s neck, hugging him.
“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow after school!”
“Wait,” Anna pouted.
Jeremy had already turned, ready to walk Anna back home.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?” Jeremy asked.
“You never tell me what we’re going to do! Tell me!”
“That’s because I’m not quite sure yet.” He needed to consult his partner in crime: Dustin.
Anna gave him one of her scowls, but there was a glint of mischief in her eye.
They turned the corner of Anna’s street and Jeremy’s parked car came into view. After kissing Anna goodnight, Jeremy hopped in and sped off toward Dustin’s house. On the way he thought about all the odd things he had seen at the JSC, especially in the past week. The increased security was definitely the biggest factor. He saw workers unloading those mysterious government SUVs almost daily. One time, one of the workers dropped a box—they were big black boxes that looked extremely heavy. When it dropped, Jeremy saw it was full of black binders labeled Top Secret.
After they cleaned everything up, Jeremy followed the boxes to an area in the JSC he hadn’t been to before, but when he tried to peek into the
room where the workers were headed, he got blocked.
“There’s no access here.”
“But I’m a—”
The military grunt didn’t move a muscle and folded his arms, and Jeremy figured it was useless to argue.
He snapped out of his reverie, parked his car, and walked behind Dustin’s house, scaled onto the roof of the garage, and tapped on the window to Dustin’s room.
Dustin sat in his chair, pleasantly surprised by the arrival of his friend, opening the window, and greeting him. He sat back and listened to Jeremy intently.
“So this scientist, Dr. Miller,” Jeremy began, “he has a nice office, and it’s a nice corner office, you know. It has a view of the lawn and stuff at the JSC, but the layout isn’t huge. It’s not like the NASA director’s office, which is huge and elegant. Even the door is unassuming. All it says is: ‘Dr. Miller, Director of Astrophysics and Kuiper Belt Research.’ Aside from that, it looks like any other door. But it’s literally the center of all the JSC. It’s where everyone comes from, and goes to.”
“Maybe he has some project that requires everyone?” Dustin asked.
“Maybe, but there’s literally always a line of people outside the door, and when he leaves his room, the whole line follows him!”
“He’s like Justin Bieber and they are like a bunch of teenage girls! Has he made any pop hits?” Dustin joked.
“Dustin, this is serious. I want to hack into his email address,” Jeremy stated flatly, making Dustin’s gaze become serious.
“You want to hack into a government scientist’s email account?” Dustin asked, aghast, until he couldn’t help but grin. He loved a challenge, even if it meant getting in trouble.
“Yes.”
“Wow . . . ” Dustin looked shrewdly at his friend.
Jeremy told him more about the odd behavior at NASA the past few weeks.
“What do you think they are doing?” Dustin asked, slowly becoming more curious.
“I don’t know! They found water on Mars recently, right? Maybe it’s something to do with that?”
The Sky is Falling Page 3