He nodded. “Good idea. They’ll get very busy, but I think automated satellites can handle the greater number.”
Disappointed with his answer, Amberle frowned. “What if they can’t handle them all?”
“Then it’ll be a problem. But, you’d have to convince the Colony Council. Not an easy task. I know—some of them have asked my advice on this topic.”
Amberle was both surprised and elated by his last comment. “You don’t want the deflections either?”
John shook his head. “We haven’t been here two decades, and have just begun learning about Alpha Mensae’s rings. If we start disrupting the asteroids before we know them, then we may be missing a good opportunity for learning.”
“The council doesn’t agree?”
“Hard to argue against people’s fears, no matter how irrational they may be.”
After finishing his latest geology lecture, John coughed and said, “I’ve covered it all. None too soon, for my voice is getting hoarse.”
Amberle held a hand over her eyes to block invading sunshine. Evening had arrived, and under normal circumstances she would have been happy for the arrival of the cool, soothing sea breeze. Feeling that the bolide situation was hopeless, she frowned at the wind, angered by the way it tangled up her difficult hair.
“Do we get to explore now?” Dave eagerly said.
“Certainly,” said Sarah. “But,” she emphasized, looking at the whole group, “be back in thirty minutes so you can eat dinner before we head home.”
Forming their usual groups, kids wandered off, talking excitedly.
Amberle watched Dave, Wes and some other boys walk toward the western hill. Wes waved at her. “Amberle, let’s watch the sunset from above!”
Unable to feel Wes’s excitement, she hesitated.
Wes stopped and yelled, “Please, Amberle! It’ll be neat to see!”
“Oh, all right!” She followed, feeling embarrassed by her classmates’ stares.
Constantly slipping and having to catch herself, Amberle found climbing difficult. Small stones dropped into her shoes, painfully shoving against her straining feet. Puffs of dirt lifted in the warm air, getting into her eyes and mouth. She tired quickly, and her breaths became rushed.
Her foot slipped, and she fell face forward. Sliding several meters down the hillside on loose soil, she scraped her arms and knees. Her foot caught something solid, stopping her plummet.
“Are you OK, Amberle?” asked Wes.
“My knees hurt.” She looked at one of her knobby joints, noticing the blood-stained tear in her pants. “But it’s nothing serious.”
She stood, and heard her solid footing snap. Thrown off balance, she just caught herself with outstretched arms before hitting the hillside face first again.
Wes walked down and helped her to her feet.
Wondering about the object that had broken underfoot, she pulled it from the ground.
“What is it?” asked Wes.
“I think it’s a root. There’s some moisture in it.” Squeezing hard, she forced a few tiny drops to trickle from the strange bulb. “I’m going to show it to Sarah.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” asked Wes expectantly.
“Nah, I’m fine alone. Finish your climb.”
“Thanks.” He turned and hiked upward.
She carefully picked her way down the hill, choosing areas with large, firm rocks. Her tired legs wobbled disconcertingly as she worked her way down, but, in her urgency, she refused to pause. Finding the root had lifted her mood. And she was sure Sarah would want to see it.
Amberle trotted across the flat valley, holding her treasure firmly. Many stars glittered in the cobalt sky, and only an orange dusk glow lit her path.
Most of the students sat away from the DFC, eating and talking among small boulders they used as chairs. John and Sarah walked into the hovercraft just as she reached the vehicle’s nose.
Amberle literally crashed into John as she ran through the hatch. Holding up the root, she said, “Look what I fou—”
A brilliant light seared through the craft’s large windows. The unexpected illumination flashed from the front, and they ran down the aisle to see the cause.
Peering from the bridge window, Amberle glimpsed a titanic fireball dropping below the mountaintops. A large retinal impression blocked her vision as she looked at John and said excitedly, “That one’s going to make it down!”
A loud thunderclap shook the DFC, throwing Amberle into Sarah. A boomer!
“Was that the explosion?” asked Sarah, as she held onto Amberle.
“No,” said John, “just the sonic boom.”
With her calm voice, Teacher said, “Transmission with emergency tag.”
After intense crackling, Amberle heard, “Seaside, research craft Roadrunner, large—” An irritating whine interrupted the transmission.
“Seaside.”
“Large fireball to northeast!”
“Seaside. Copy. Southern horizon brightening.”
As if Alpha Mensae were rising in reverse, the entire western horizon blossomed with painful light. Growing brighter than the sun, the illumination seemed to shine from all directions. Amberle shielded her eyes from the intense flare, seeing from the edge of her vision the sky turn bright daytime blue.
“Astrolab. Satellites indicate a one-point-two gigaton yield!”
“Fireball spreading. Way too fast!”
“Punch it Roadrunner!”
“Raining fire—” The transmission ended in a loud series of pops.
“Damn.”
“Control. Oceanlab, tsunami status?”
“No details!”
“Geolab. Strong motion seismograms firing on Ember Island! Surface impact!”
John said incredulously, “It hit that close?”
“Astrolab. Impact sixty klicks southwest of Ember.”
“Geolab. Agree.”
“Oceanlab. That’s deep ocean. Tsunamis certain.”
“Control. Tsunami alert!”
A high pitched whine made Amberle wince. A bright red light flashed on the dashboard.
“All personnel to coast evac stations. Level three emergency.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Sarah, staring out the window.
Amberle watched a fiery column stretch above a rapidly ballooning fireball. Arcing high over the valley, the harshly glowing tower traced the same path that the bolide had followed on its way down.
“We’ve received no response to our signal,” informed Teacher.
As if they were on a vessel in a turbulent sea, the floor tilted sharply. Sarah staggered across the bridge, carrying Amberle with her. Grabbing hold of the pilot’s chair, she stopped their movement, just to be carried backward by a strong reverse motion. John gripped the dashboard.
The next ground wave tossed everyone down. Amberle banged her head against the chair, and Sarah landed on her. Amberle gasped. She stared out the window and saw a hillside starkly illuminated by the new “sun.” “M-mov… moving.” She shoved Sarah’s shoulder, trying to get her to look up, while the jerking floor of the DFC slammed painfully into her head with each passing terrestrial undulation. “The hillside’s moving!”
“The kids!” Sarah screamed.
John, trying to stand in the bucking craft, looked at Sarah, fear strong on his face. An unending array of insistent, ear-pounding crashes erupted from the rear of the DFC. Amberle yelled, but could not hear herself as the back of the craft caved in, smashed like paper by unimaginable weight. Her ears popped. The vehicle leaned sideways, screeching from its sudden abuse, throwing John into the wall.
Amberle lifted her sore head, trying to keep it from hitting the floor. Over the staccato racket from the vibrating DFC’s loosened panels, bouncing seats and snapped beams, and just audible above the continuous rumble outside, she found that she could hear the transmission again.