by Mark Wandrey
“I didn’t say that. But based on what I’ve seen, it sure looks like some intelligence took advantage of this rock’s orbit and date of perigee to turn it into a weapon.”
“So what happens if it hits?”
“I’d have to say a total loss, wouldn’t you Dr. Osgood?”
“Oh most certainly that is a possibility,” agreed the scientist sitting next to Volant.
“I don’t think I follow you,” Oscenhert complained.
“May I?” asked Osgood. Dr. Skinner nodded and the younger scientist proceeded. “You see, this rock of ours is like a bowling ball thrown at a bus. Stand a few feet away and chuck the bowling ball at the local 525 to the mall and it dents the hood, maybe breaks out a window.”
“That’s not so bad,” Oscenhert laughed.
“Right, but this bowling ball started at the top of mount Everest. It’s rolling all the way down the mountain on a perfectly smooth road, and then when it’s a couple miles away it slingshots around a hill to speed up even more. It’s still the same bowling ball, it’s still the same bus, but now that little hunk of plastic could well punch a hole from one end of that bus to the other and turn it inside out from the impact.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. We need to wait until Dr. Skinner’s people finish tasking the data, but based on what I’ve seen so far this rock is probably traveling faster than any asteroid ever recorded. That little dip through the sun’s photosphere cost it some matter but it also sent it down our throats at breakneck speed. Let’s say about 50 km per second.”
“That’s a conservative estimate,” Skinner agreed. Oscenhert’s eyes got big and Osgood continued.
“At that speed it slams into the Earth with about nine thousand times the energy of the biggest hydrogen bomb ever detonated.”
“Good Lord!” Oscenhert gasped. Volant was trying to consider a number that big. “But won’t it burn up in our atmosphere?”
“Sure,” Osgood said and for a second Oscenhert looked relieved, “if it had just wandered by and fell out of orbit like Spacelab did, burning up back in the 90’s. But this bastard is coming at us so fast it’s only going to be in the atmosphere for a couple seconds. It will turn the air in front of it to white hot plasma, just like the shuttle sees on reentry, and anyone within view will see an incredible sight. Now when it hits, it won’t be like you might have seen on the Discovery Channel; big boom, lots of junk in the air. This thing is so big and moving so fast it’s liable to actually dig into the crust of the planet rather like a bullet slamming into a watermelon.”
“When a bullet hits a watermelon,” Volant spoke up, “the watermelon explodes.”
“Exactly,” Osgood said and jabbed a finger at the agent for emphasis. “It will depend on what this rock is made of, as to the actual effects. If it’s typical space junk, rock and ice, there is survivability. Anyone within a thousand miles is dead, of course, and we’re looking at years of global winter, but survivable.”
“If you call that survivable, I’d hate to hear what you consider unsurvivable!” Oscenhert scoffed.
“Unsurvivable is if this is a mainly nickel iron asteroid. In that case it could penetrate the crust to the mantle.”
“Like striking a crystal glass with a hammer,” Skinner said, “the vibration from the blow could shatter the mantle. The planet disintegrates, or tears loose every fault line and realigns the continents.”
“Well, as frightening as that may be I don’t think it’s worth discussing that sort of doomsday story,” Oscenhert said with a wave of his hands. Despite his bravado Volant noticed the trickle of sweat from his bow and the growing dark stains under the arms of his expensive Armani shirt.
“What the hell do you think we are talking about?” demanded Skinner.
“Well, that would mean the end of mankind! There is no way God would completely destroy us. It’s not in his plan, I’m certain of that.”
“How do you know God didn’t aim this rock at us?” Osgood asked. “Maybe he’s done with this experiment. Maybe it’s time to wipe the slate clean and start all over.”
“You are being ridiculous,” the man on the other side of the screen said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“No more than you bringing ‘God’s will’ into a scientific discussion,” Osgood replied with a snarl. “You damn political types are all the same, trying to change what we tell you to somehow advantage your own party.” He slammed a meaty fist on the table making water glasses and scientists jump. “That fucking rock is quite real, and it may well be coming to kill us, sir. Now what do you intend to tell the President? Dr. Skinner here has a few thousand people at NASA working around the clock to affect a response and you’re talking about waving a Bible at it and praying it will go away.”
“I don’t much like the tone you are taking with me.”
“And I don’t much like trying to discuss ballistics and astronomical laws with a crusty old fossil that probably went to high school with my father.” Osgood was not a terribly young man, well over fifty himself, but Oscenhert did indeed make him look young by comparison.
Volant decided to step in before the conference developed into a good old-fashioned shouting contest. “I think we all have to hold any policy decisions for at least a day, considering what Dr. Skinner has told us about verification. But at this point we have to begin wondering if this is indeed an attempt to destroy our world, or at least disrupt it. I would direct you, Mr. Oscenhert, to consult the reports we have been sending the president. Among them are detailed pictures of the graphical icons on the side of the Portal. They seem to depict the Earth destroyed by a heavenly body. Is this a coincidence? I would have gladly said yes even a few days ago, but yesterday I watched the first people go through and saw for myself that the Portal is a one-way trip to another planet.
“The scientists are all but certain that the Portal will only transport one hundred forty-four people before it shuts down. We haven’t confirmed this because to do so may well render the issue moot. I am still getting intelligence from the CIA but there seems to be at least nine more of these scattered around the world. Some of the egg-, I uh, scientists, around here believe these Portals were escape devices sent to us by friendly aliens to save Humanity before certain death.”
“Fascinating,” said Oscenhert, “but hard to swallow. If they’re so friendly why did they send so few Portals?”
“That doesn’t invalidate the fact that Portals are here,” Osgood said. Every head nodded with the exception of Oscenhert.
“So,” Oscenhert addressed Volant, “you think this asteroid was intentionally aimed at us and this Portal was sent to rescue us. Sounds too good to be true.”
“I agree with you,” said Volant, “but that doesn’t change the facts. We need additional personnel and funding here, and we need it fast. Even if this Portal is both limited and one way, we may be able to duplicate it and make more. If Earth is doomed, a mass evacuation can’t be ruled out.”
To one side Osgood was shaking his head at the idea of making more Portals. He’d just come from a meeting with the particle physics team who put forth a series of wild theories as to how the Portals could be working, but they were nothing more than that. Wild theories.
“We’ve pumped more than fifty million from the discretionary defense and hidden intelligence budgets into this white elephant already, and you want more?”
“Maybe you didn’t hear us,” Skinner said, “this device can transport you instantly to another world and this planet may only have one month to live!”
“According to your last report, there is no definitive proof that it leads to another planet. Hell, you don’t even know where this other world might be. It could be the moon, for all we know.”
Volant could see the veins standing out on Osgood’s neck, an effect he himself had caused many times in the previous weeks. “The moon doesn’t have an atmosphere, sir.” Osgood managed to say without shouting. Oscenhert rolled his eyes.
“We are all but certain it’s another planet,” Skinner agreed, “and based on observations taken by the special forces we sent through yesterday, we know it’s not a star system anywhere near our own.”
“And just how the hell can you tell that?”
“They took pictures of the sky,” Volant said, making Osgood look up in surprise at the unexpected support. “You compare the way the sky looks here at night to there and try to match star patterns. They haven’t found any matches.”
“I’m working on that,” Skinner said, “I have someone on my staff who’s looking at the data.”
“Keep them out of the bag,” Volant said quickly, “when this story hits the press, we’re going to have enough containment problems as it is.” Skinner looked back and forth as if looking for someone to help him with the answer. “This has been classified, Dr. Skinner, you know that. Anyone brought into the bag will have to be cleared by my agency first.”
“Sure, I know that. I’m playing it as a novelty project with some graduate students. They think it’s for a science fiction book someone is writing. Stuff like that.” Volant nodded his head and the meeting continued. Osgood proposed the kinds of resources they would require as well as a substantial budget.
“I doubt I can get that kind of money,” Oscenhert said with a dismissive gesture.
“I suggest you take it to him and see what he says,” said Volant. After the conference had broken up he was talking with Osgood. “Are you sure it was a good idea bringing in Dr. Skinner? He seems a little flakier than most.”
“I didn’t make the decision. He works with space command on a regular basis and already had the required clearance. He picked up on it from a standard NASA security flash.”
“I don’t know what disturbs me more, that this guy has that high of a security clearance, or that you guys routinely flash high security alerts back and forth like YouTube clips.” He looked at a clipboard with some notes before speaking again. “We need to prepare to send through one or two more people.”
“Waste of assets,” Osgood said. Volant smiled to think that now Osgood was saying just what he’d said earlier. “We’ve only got one hundred thirty-nine more pops with this, what good does it do to go through again at this stage?”
“I have four men over there, you have one. The good it does is to get them some more supplies and let them know we haven’t abandoned them. One or two more crossings won’t make a difference either way, and we'll be sending soldiers who could prove very useful later. If this thing is the only way off the planet, a few billion people are going to die.” Osgood looked down at the floor and nodded his head.
The technicians were ready, the shields in place and computers running. “Okay everyone, this is a limited operation,” Osgood announced over the PA system. “We’re just resupplying those that have already gone over and updating them on the current situation.” Once he finished explaining the plan he put the microphone down and moved over to the main monitor situated behind a lead-lined metal shield. “Two troopers, maximum gear on this run. Agent Volant has provided what we need to send over in the way of equipment. We have the weight down to a science so there shouldn’t be any question of bouncing crates. It’s unlikely anyone will be waiting on the other side, so as soon as the first person is through start throwing gear. The second soldier will follow five seconds after the Portal closes this time. We want to get some data on the cycle rate of the Portal, so be ready.”
The first soldier climbed the steps and activated the Portal. “Go ahead whenever you want,” Osgood said. The soldier nodded and stepped through.
Once the purple flash had faded the men recording the data all nodded their heads. No surprises there, those came later. The crew of technicians began tossing crates through as the soldier jumped out of the way. Other people worked with the communications system and again established a link through the Portal. The data flowed both ways while they worked to find any other way of communicating. “Only laser light is responding asynchronous,” the communications supervisor said. No radio frequencies, microwave, or short wavelength pulsed radiations were getting through.
“I’m starting to detect lag in the communications link,” another man said. “If I had to guess I’d say its Doppler shift as the two planets move apart.” Osgood looked up at the distant planet. It was night on the other side and the soldier had left the view, no doubt looking for the other men. Crates bounced off one another as they were thrown through and he was beginning to worry the earlier soldiers had disappeared like the first man who accidentally went through. Then Lt. Col Wilson came running into view followed by the rest of the soldiers. The man who had just crossed over ran up from the other side and they all shook hands; it was old home week on a distant planet. Still no sign of the scientist.
“We’ve got the communications laser tweaked,” another technician said just as the Portal shimmered and disappeared. “When we reestablish a link we can have voice transmissions.” Osgood nodded and smiled. They were making progress.
“Let’s get ready for the last run of the series,” he told them. The 2nd soldier climbed the steps to activate the Portal again. The six who would not be going through gave him a cheer as he saluted and stepped through. Osgood already had a headset in place as he waited for the lasers on both sides to synchronize. “Lt. Col. Wilson, can you hear me?” The soldier looked down at the device in surprise and then snatched up microphone.
“Hey, good to hear a voice from that side!”
“And yours, sir. We’ve only got a few seconds.” The bucket brigade of crates had resumed. “Get a complete report ready on the computer we gave you and link it to the transmitter. Next time we send someone through that data will be sent over automatically. Take some digital pictures of your area and include them as well. The system is already giving us atmospheric readings.”
“Will do. When is the next link up?”
“Things have been happening fast on this end, as your new men will no doubt tell you. We’re going to try and move the Portal to the Cape, then we’ll pick up where we left off. Next crossing will be two days to the minute from now.” The Lt. Colonel nodded his head as he quickly made a note on his Blackberry. Suddenly a bone shattering roar echoed through the microphone on the other end. “Good lord,” Osgood gasped, “what was that?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s one of our neighbors, so to speak. Think of it as a cross between a Komodo dragon and a sloth. About eighteen feet long, weighing at least a ton. It’s a good thing you sent us instead of more eggheads. We didn’t find much left of Mr. Hooper.” He held up a zip lock bag containing an obviously blood stained Swiss Army knife. Amidst the gasps and cries from the scientists, the Portal shimmered and disappeared.
“Looks like paradise has a few serpents,” Volant said as he got up to leave. He had yet another report to make.
A lot of important people were up past their bed times on the evening of April 21st watching the late night talk shows. Dr. Osgood was drinking his eleventh cup of coffee and going over the recorded data from the last two soldiers’ trips through the Portal. A few yards away in his own trailer Mark Volant was writing his budget recommendations and trying to come up with a feasible way to move the huge Portal more than a thousand miles.
The late night comedians were going through their predictable monologues, but he kept it on as white noise. Diet Coke was his late night drink of choice, and the nearby metallic waste basket was full to overflowing with empty cans. About five miles away Victor sat cross legged in the tiny studio apartment he shared with his disciples trying to learn how to meditate and listened to the talk show with one ear. Twenty miles further was Lt. Billy Harper lying on his faded couch in Queens, watching the same show. A cold six-pack of beer, minus two cans so far, sat sweating on a coffee table next to a half-eaten pizza. More than three thousand miles still farther away Mindy occupied a chair in the deserted SETI data center in Renton Washington. A small cup warmer kept her tea heated as she worke
d.
Mindy knew Harold would be annoyed when he arrived in the morning. She'd taken down three of the four redundant data processors to use for her personal project. Two were straining to enhance the grainy digital images from Dr. Skinner; the other was at her personal beck and call. As the first two finished a segment of the image, it was sent to her desktop where she would begin looking it over by turning them back and forth, enhancing, shrinking and enlarging each individual star group. Mindy had worked through three quarters of the images Skinner gave her without finding a thing.
“It’s all familiar in one way or another,” she’d said in the empty room, “I just have to find the key. Some common point that will give me the basis for a spatial translation.” She was beginning to wonder if the target world was either too far away to share common star clusters, or maybe in another galaxy. “If only they had some telescopic data,” she grumbled. It was like trying to build a puzzle out of microscopic Legos with Vaseline smeared on your glasses. The television showed a famous late night talk show host from New York. She took a sip of tea and listened, eyes closed to rest as the host joked about the difference between one political party and another. After a short break she went back to work.
She looked up when she heard a “Breaking News Alert” interrupt the talk show. “This just in from our London bureau, an amateur astronomer working from her homemade observatory in the northern British Isles has apparently discovered a rogue asteroid that may strike Earth.” Mindy put aside her tea and turned her full attention to the broadcast. “The asteroid, known as LM-245, is what’s commonly referred to as an ‘Earth Crossing’ asteroid. Once every five years LM-245 passes by Earth at distances varying from a few hundred thousand to more than a million miles. This year it was scheduled to pass by on August 15th at a distance roughly twice that from the Earth to the moon. While this might seem close to us, astronomers explain that many asteroids do this harmlessly each year. LM-245 had come much closer than that, passing within the moon’s orbit, seventy-five years ago.
