The Asteroid

by M R Cates

  “Seems about it. Thanks, Reg. Come by the control room. When we get a chance, Françoise will make some real coffee.”

  When Sandra hung up, she tapped the appropriate D.C. number into the phone. Someone she didn't know – a woman – answered. “Just a moment, Dr. Hughes,” the woman said. “Please stand by for the President.”

  Sandra looked at the ceiling a moment. Why am I not surprised? she thought

  In less than a minute, there was the familiar voice. “Sandra, it's Jeff McBrand. Understand you are seeing some action.”

  “Hello, Mr. President. I suppose you're looking at my image right now.”

  “Yes, I think so. What do you make of it, so far?”

  “I see a spiraling pattern that'll reach the upper atmosphere by dawn here, say. That brings it in before 4 pm, so I'm guessing they'll modify the approach a little. Say, sir, isn't it nice they arranged this during your regular work day?”

  “Thoughtful indeed,” he responded. “Do you expect something like a space plane landing?”

  “Possibly,” she answered. “But remember, they are in powered flight. They have other options.”

  “Such as, doctor?”

  “Sandra, remember,” she corrected him gently. “Such as using the atmosphere to slow down a little, turn the doughnut and finish the job quickly, using their plasma thruster. Or, slowing down to free fall without their thrusters – like the space plane – then using their power source just before touchdown. Or, and this is my guess at the moment, slow down a lot before spiraling into the atmosphere, but not until they're ready. In other words, to lower their orbit to just above the atmosphere and wait for whatever they consider the proper moment.”

  “And, inside the atmosphere, what about the heating?”

  “Can't say, Mr. President. It's unlikely, though conceivable, that the doughnut will have much lift to work with.”

  “Why is it even conceivable, Sandra?”

  “Because they can shape material, it seems, any way they wish. I wouldn't be surprised if they deployed wings at the proper moment. Like a flying doughnut. Imagine the image!”

  The President laughed. “You are certainly taking this with good humor, Sandra.”

  “Humor is what makes it all worth it, sir,” she said. “Can you envision how deadeningly dull human life would be without humor?”

  “Point well taken,” he responded. “I'll let you get back to work.”

  “Thanks, sir. Listen, shall I call you directly if something interesting happens?”

  “Would you please?”

  “Good, I've been wanting to use this speed dial number they gave me.”

  “Good luck, Sandra,” he said pleasantly, then disconnected.

  Sandra looked back at the other two. “The President says 'good luck.' I say thanks.” She smiled at Jason and Françoise, then shook her head slowly, taken over by the enormity of what was happening.

  Chapter 32

  The alien craft, the newest of the toroids, did drop into a lower orbit, this one at 212 miles. The doughnut shape measured 62 meters across, about 45 meters thick, with a 3.3 meter opening in the center. The plasma plume that propelled it materialized in that opening, exactly in the same manner as the earlier motions of the larger bodies. There was also a depression along the inner diameter, as was common to the six larger objects. This one, however, had shown no evidence of light fluctuation, remaining the same pale brown color as the rest of the shape. The most importance difference, besides the smaller size, was the extremely smooth surface. The craft – as it was often called – had no roughness or bulges at all and was formed in a near-perfect, symmetric shape. As had its parent, Fragment Five, this craft oriented its opening perpendicular to a line through the center of the Earth. The Kecks, and other telescopes, watching it cross out of view, were therefore able to get images from a number of angles, as they had of Fragment Five.

  And at least three hundred scopes, from everywhere on earth and a few above earth, were watching the object. Good binoculars could actually make it out, a bright point streaking across the sky. News media had been alerted, almost instantly, and every television, newspaper, and radio was streaming reports to the startled and voraciously concerned public. Since the significance of the earlier flashes from Fragment Five had been unnoticed by or kept from most people, this sudden expulsion of another, smaller, doughnut and its dropping into lower orbit had been the first new event associated with Asteroid 1744 in a very long time – especially long as related to public attention span. Renewed doomsday speculations arose immediately, and talk show hosts and other similar moderators of so-called news programs, in radio, print, internet, and television media, and virtually every language on Earth, began generating terror scenarios, diatribes against one or another politician who had disagreed with them about the asteroid's meaning and purpose, and fielding question after question, ranging from the ridiculous to the most ridiculous. Reasonable questions, being less interesting, were often not expressed on the air. Of course, the more respectable media, including the public radio services all around the developed world were equally busy with their less colorful, more accurate, reporting. By early morning, Hawaii time, few people around the globe had not had the opportunity to hear or see as much information – true and imagined – about the approaching craft as they had any interest in hearing or seeing. And of course there remained a small, but vocal, minority who continued to believe – and loudly express the belief – that everything about Asteroid 1744 and its various fragments was an elaborate hoax, perpetrated by one group or another of human beings – the particular group depending on what power center was opposed by, or was a rival of, the particular speaker.

  Sandra, Jason, and Françoise turned the Kecks over to the backup team at about 5:30, each going home for a few hours of needed rest. Wyler agreed to contact Carl when the old man rose around eight, his usual wake-up time. Sandra was expected to be at the helicopter pad near the Keck building – the pad was a new addition within the last month – at one o'clock. Sandra would then be flown to Honolulu, to take off again with a U.S. Air Force team in a specially equipped C-5 aircraft, modified to reach 50,000 feet elevation, where they would circle the expected landing site at the 50-mile radius requested by the aliens. The C-5 had two excellent telescopes and other instruments that Sandra and others on board could use, hopefully to follow the landing process, gain whatever information possible about what to expect the coming evening and the days ahead. There had been some reluctance to allow Sandra on the aircraft, but she pointed out first that she needed as much information as possible in preparation for whatever plan the aliens had to communicate with her. Secondly, she noted that dangers would exist everywhere in the area, especially if the landing craft were to accidentally or otherwise crash into the ocean. At 50,000 feet she would be safer, in fact, were such a thing to occur. Madeleine Vigola's team – the group in charge of all the operations on Hawaii – gave reluctant assent, possibly in part because arguing with Sandra Hughes was harder and more time consuming than simply giving in to start with.

  On board the modified C-5 they had arranged to have a satellite link to the Keck control room, where Jason and Françoise would return and where various ranging telescopes, including several on Mauna Kea and Haleakala, would be sending their image data as they looked out across nearly a hundred miles of water to the expected landing spot. The giant astronomical telescopes, like the twin Kecks, could not be pointed in that manner, and were, indeed, much too powerful for the relatively straightforward task of looking out such a short distance in full daylight. Observing Fragment Five, as close as 500 miles away, had been done using the twin Kecks only at Sandra's insistence, so she could take advantage of the complex instrumentation associated with the scopes, and because her automated tracking programs would allow her to lock the mirrors, designed to look billions of light years into the universe, onto the rapidly moving nearby target. On that July 16th, Françoise would be using a twenty-inch ranging te
lescope, mounted near, but independent of, the Kecks and follow the landing herself. A part of the preparatory work during the last few days had been to equip that telescope with the computer software that would allow it to properly lock on a moving object. The Kecks themselves would be out of business until dark when they again would begin watching Fragment Five and its parent asteroid.

  At 12:45 Sandra came out into her front yard, reasonably refreshed, heading toward her car, when she saw her neighbors, Paul and Lisa Honokona, out working in their yard. Both had cheerful smiles. Paul, clippers in hand, walked a few steps toward Sandra.

  “Aloha!” their famous neighbor called out. “Long time no see.”

  “Ah, we've been here,” Lisa said, straightening up and adjusting a straw hat. She wore a long, light-weight loose dress typical of the natives, complete with colorful patterns. Paul's shirt was similarly colorful and pulled out loose from his shorts. Both were barefooted. Lisa added, “What a busy girl you are, Sandra.”

  The astronomer stopped for a minute. She'd been a bad neighbor and knew it. “You guys been watching the news?” she asked.

  “Oh, sure,” Paul answered. “What's going on with that new rock anyway? We hear all kinds of stuff.”

  “It's going to land, neighbors,” Sandra said, unable to avoid glancing around to try to catch a glimpse of Big Brother. “But keep it to yourselves for a while, okay?”

  “Sure,” said Lisa, eyes brighter. “Really, land?”

  “Yep. Start watching TV around three or three-fifteen, and you may even get to see me.” Sandra gave them a shoulder-grinding Hawaiian gesture, meaning 'how cool' and continued on toward the car.

  “Thanks, Sandra!” Lisa called. “We'll be looking for you.”

  “Bye,” was the response and Sandra was on her way. At the helicopter pad she met a couple of Navy pilots named Raymond and Patterson, last names, Raymond a young woman, Patterson a young man. She never heard their first names. Madeleine Vigola was there, too, with Joseph Carstairs and a couple of others, to see her off. They all spoke briefly and Sandra boarded.

  Settling back for the hundred mile flight to the capital city – which would take only forty minutes in the souped-up chopper – Sandra prepared her mind. She had called her sister before leaving home, bringing Debbie up to date on everything she was allowed to talk about. It bothered her that she couldn't yet tell her the role she was expected eventually to play with the landed craft. But Sandra agreed with Vigola that there would be time for such communication after the aliens had given more instructions. In the meanwhile, the landing itself carried so many unknowns and concerns that Debbie would be more than occupied, knowing that her sister was in an airplane watching the whole event.

  Sandra knew that Françoise, with Jason's and much more help, could take care of the job at the observatory, so the astronomer spent the rest of her flight rehearsing imagined alternate scenarios – conjuring up varieties of possibilities of things that could go wrong. It was standard operating procedure for Sandra Hughes. At 1:40 they sat down next to the C-5 at the Honolulu airport. The jet's engines were already whining. Sandra was rushed quickly to the portable ramp, and was on board by 1:45. The C-5 was airborne by 1:50.

  When they reached cruising altitude of 50,000 feet, requiring some thirty minutes of climbing, Sandra was introduced to the scientific crew and shown her seat next to a window that would, during the long circular pattern, look out toward the announced landing site. She also had a pair of viewing screens, a computer console, and a second telephone to add to the encrypted cell phone she had with her. Appreciating the preparation and saying so, the scientist sat down and strapped herself in. She glanced outside through the window and saw that the C-5 was flying as the highest aircraft in a formation. Down and farther away were several other visible planes. Obviously, these were military aircraft flying standby for “just in case” circumstances. Probably they would be making a similar circle to the planned route of the C-5, but at lower elevation and larger diameter. The group was still twenty-five miles north of the circular perimeter the C-5 would be following, but would establish that pattern in only a few minutes. Sandra called the Keck control room to get an update from Françoise.

  “The craft, Sandra,” the student said, noticeably keyed up, “has clearly begun its descent. It seems, you see, to plan to take a little more than a full orbit.”

  “Has it touched the atmosphere yet, Françoise?”

  “Not yet, no. Soon. I have patched you the two best images.” Françoise evidenced a little triumph in her voice, clearly having gone through an enormous amount of available information, constantly changing, to provide those images. In fact, as Sandra watched, the French student switched telescopes on one of the images, showing an improvement.

  The toroid craft was not firing the plasma stream in the images. Sandra guessed, then, that some firing had already occurred, slowing the rock. The flat, open side, of the smooth doughnut was oriented to strike the air surface, an angle of attack that might be expected of a space plane or other similar craft from the Earth. Sandra was able to see the beginnings of friction heating on the contact surface. The glow increased, going from barely visible to a dull red. With a quick glance out the window, Sandra could see they were west-northwest of the landing site. The majesty of her own island was visible in the distance, including Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa to the south. She could also make out Maui, behind Lanai and Kahoolawe, the smaller islands off its western coast. Molokai was there, too, to the north of Maui, barely visible in the far left of her field of view. Clouds on the eastern side of the chain had not yet crossed over. They, so far. were very lucky. Turning back to the displayed images, Sandra expected to see a brighter glow from air fraction on the slowing toroid. Instead, she saw something quite unexpected. A pale orange glow was moving out from the impacting front of the doughnut. It must have been something arising from the friction heating, she supposed at first, then saw that the glow continued to move forward, actually moving away from, in front of, the speeding object.

  “Françoise, are you measuring that orange glow?”

  “We are, Sandra. It is very strange.”

  “Very. Looks like maybe the aliens are pushing the air away in front of their doughnut.”

  “Perhaps,” the student suggested, “to keep the surface cooler, somehow.”

  “Good guess. Maybe they can't take the heat. But how in the hell can they do such a thing?”

  Jason's voice joined Françoise. “Sandra, the spectral characteristics of that forward plume don't look like a black body. (He was referring to the characteristic distribution of wavelengths that are emitted by a perfectly absorbing [black] body at a particular temperature.) It's a clean Gaussian wavelength distribution around about 580 nanometers. The peak is moving a little, but that's about right.”

  “So, they're making the energy pattern themselves, somehow,” Sandra concluded aloud. “And, odd as it seems, it might not be heated air. Listen, Jason, can you find an image of the approaching craft viewed through that plume? If you can, measure the distortion. Maybe what they've done is use their orange plume to create a vacuum in front of their craft.”

  Jason agreed to look. Françoise said, almost muttering, her words slightly hesitant because she was doing so much as she spoke, “That is ... that plume is not changing ... now, Sandra. If you are right ... and so amazing! The craft itself, you see, is quite cool, about ... let's see, about 50 degrees Celsius.”

  “That's got to be it, guys,” Sandra said. She glanced around to catch the attention of the others on board. Two other consoles had her same images. Sandra switched her transmitter to include the scientists and engineers with her. “The craft is coming in, as you can see,” she announced. “Note that the advance plume is apparently generating a vacuum to stop friction heating of the surface. How that vacuum propagates so fast is beyond me. The orange plume is not a clean black body spectrum. Could be there are some air impacts by the vacuum generation – along the boundary
– but not nearly enough to allow for the speed of propagation.”

  A meteorologist nearby asked, “Dr. Hughes, is there any possible explanation for this?”

  Sandra scratched her head, causing the ponytail to move side to side a little. “Well, mass could convert to light in some bizarre nuclear process, but that would release a huge amount of energy and probably not really generate a good vacuum. The only theory I know that might apply is a far-out one that has mass winking out in one location in the space-time continuum in correspondence to mass appearing in another location. It presumes an intrinsic energy within vacuum, an attribute of space-time, that can express itself as a mass quantum if properly stimulated. It's a twist on spontaneous creation, but where total mass-energy is conserved. Not many people believe it, however.”

  The meteorologist, a man about forty-five with a trimmed graying beard, looked strangely at her. “Then ... we may be seeing something ... that doesn't occur naturally, when an object slows down in the atmosphere?”

  “We are definitely doing that,” Sandra said, eyes busily observing the screens. “But why should we be surprised? Nothing about our visitors seems naturally occurring, wouldn't you say?”

  Françoise announced, and Sandra routed it to the whole compliment on the C-5, “the craft is very much slower now, Sandra. About 10,000 kilometers per hour. Very slow for such an approach, you see.”

  It was 2:55 by the plane's clock. Sixty-five minutes till landing. Sandra realized the craft might only be about 6000 miles away, or less, perhaps above Australia. “How far down range from here? Anyone know?”

  Françoise answered. “8000 kilometers, Sandra. I have the 20-inch telescope here waiting for it.”

  “Exciting stuff, huh, Françoise?” Sandra asked, her own voice revealing more excitement than usual. Normally, Sandra Hughes kept the intensity of her feelings bottled up inside. She thought of it as a kind of auxiliary energy source for herself.