The expressions of shock metamorphosed into dismay. "We've adjusted the evacuation schedule somewhat," Jack continued, "and each of you will be given a copy as you leave this morning. Senior personnel will stay behind until everyone else has been gotten off. It now looks as if six people are going to have to ride out the impact at Moonbase. We're carrying maximum weight load on every bus, and we're making the best possible flight times. I'm sorry this is happening. I honestly do not know how we could reasonably have foreseen this kind of eventuality and provided for it.
"If your name is among the last six, please stay a few minutes. The rest of you please confirm your departure time with Transportation. Miss a flight, you get to stay." He felt close to tears. "Thank you." He wanted to say more but he didn't trust his voice.
His own name, and Evelyn's, were at the bottom of the list. The other four were Angela Hawkworth and Herman Eckerd, the two department heads; Jill Benning, the personnel director; and Chip Mansfield, director of the engineering support division. "I want you to be aware," he told them after the room had cleared, "that we'll do whatever we can. But I don't want to hold out any false hope."
Benning was a small woman, about forty, trim, dark-haired, intense. "By what right," she asked, "do you decide for us that we should be left behind?"
"What would you suggest?" asked Chandler evenly. "That you and I clear out and leave a few secretaries to deal with it?"
"This is not in my contract," she said. "I've a family at home. Others are dependent on me. I can't just let you throw my life away." She looked desperately around for support. The faces of her colleagues were masked. They would, he thought, be delighted to see her win her argument. But they weren't anxious to take her side openly.
"The corporation," said Chandler, "will see that your family is looked after. Scholarship funds will be established, and other matters will be taken care of, as appropriate. I'm sorry to be so cold-blooded about this, but we have neither options nor time."
"And what happens if I go down and get on one of the buses?" she demanded, glaring at him.
"They won't let you on, Jill. If your name isn't on the list, they won't let you on."
Eckerd cleared his throat. "I'm willing to stay," he said. "I can't say I like the idea very much, but I don't see that we have much choice."
Benning turned a furious stare in his direction. Then she swung back to Chandler. "You'll hear from my lawyer," she said.
He looked at her and couldn't be angry. "If we get home, Jill," he said, "I'll be more than happy to debate this in court." When they'd left, he sagged into a chair. He had thought, when he came here, that he would never return groundside. He didn't want to go back, not to the dead weight in his chest and his heart fluttering with every breath.
So maybe it was unfair. It was harder on them than it was on him, and he was playing a heroic role, volunteering himself, expecting them to follow his example. But he didn't dare tell them how he really felt, didn't dare do anything that would complicate his need to get them to stay voluntarily. Or as voluntarily as he could arrange. Skyport. 8:17 A.M.
Tory Clark had heard that the Percival Lowell was approaching, bringing the first group of evacuees from Moonbase. She took a break and went up one deck to the Earthlight Grill, picked up some cinnamon buns, and looked out the window. It was there, skimming the planetary haze, long and gray and lovely. It was smaller than the SSTOs, and not as sleek, but somehow it encompassed a greater aura of power within its frame.
"Headed for the junk pile," said someone behind her.
THE TODAY SHOW. 8:30 A.M. SEGMENT.
Excerpt of an interview with Wesley Feinberg by Jay Christopher. Christopher: Why does it have two tails? Isn't that unusual? Feinberg: Not at all, Jay. Comets often have two tails. One's composed of dust, which is more or less blown off the comet head. Unlike the ion tail, it's illuminated only by reflected light. Christopher: An ion tail is not dust, obviously. Feinberg: That's right. It consists of ionized molecules, so it glows on its own. Christopher: Professor Feinberg, you spoke with the president about the comet? Feinberg: That's correct, Jay. Christopher: Can you tell us what you told him? Feinberg: I don't think that would be appropriate. That's probably a question you should ask him. Christopher: All right, then. What can you tell us about the collision? How much real danger is there? Feinberg: Well, we'll undoubtedly see some meteors. If the Moon breaks up, as now appears quite possible, the situation could become serious. There are several scenarios that raise the question whether life on Earth could survive. Christopher: (After a long pause.) Are there others who agree with this assessment, Professor? Other scientists, I mean? Feinberg: Oh, yes. I'd think most would. Christopher: Are we talking about tidal waves? Feinberg: That's certainly a concern. But a major impact anywhere on the planet could cause immense damage, trigger an ice age, or a runaway greenhouse effect. This is really not a comfortable situation, but we'll just have to wait and see what happens. On the other hand, we're fortunate as regards the position of the Moon and the angle of the strike. Christopher: Can you explain that? Feinberg: Of course. (Graphic appears.) If the worst happens, and the Moon is destroyed, you can see that most of the material will be blown away from the Earth. Christopher: What's going to happen to it? Feinberg: Oh, the bulk of it will remain in orbit. You know, we talk exclusively about safety concerns. And that's certainly understandable. But we shouldn't overlook the fact that this is a priceless opportunity. Christopher: You mean to watch the collision close up. Feinberg: More than that. We tend to forget, because our lives are very short and nothing around us ever seems to change, that the universe is really a very violent place. It's not necessarily a bad thing that we be reminded of that periodically. Christopher: Provided we survive it. Feinberg: Of course.
BBC WORLDNET. 9:05 A.M.
Report from Skyport:
"… evacuation was completed at the L1 space station this morning. In a daring rescue, the SSTO Arlington brought off two hundred and eleven persons and returned them safely to Skyport moments ago. The same spacecraft will leave shortly to join three other planes orbiting the Moon in the continuing effort to bring out Moonbase personnel." Moonbase, Grissom Country. 10:05 A.M.
Charlie listened on his private channel to an enraged Henry Kolladner. It was bad enough that Feinberg was trying to panic the nation. But someone in the administration was telling the media that Henry knew how dangerous the situation was, that he was recklessly playing with the lives of Americans. He'd find the leaker, the president swore, he'd run the bastard out of the administration and see that he never worked in this town again (by which he presumably meant the United States government). Not ever. He would even consider criminal action. Furthermore, he thought he knew who was doing it.
He went on in that vein for a while, but didn't name anyone. Charlie had a couple of suspects in mind, but he understood the turmoil that must have been generated in a meeting in which they decided to stand aside and risk a general disaster without issuing a warning. He understood why the decision had been taken, and was not inclined to be judgmental because he wasn't sure what the correct action should have been. We'll know Sunday morning, won't we?