A Push to the Right

21 hours to Thunderbolt – 1 p.m. Mountain

“Wow,” David said, heart pounding. “Will you take a look at that?”

He’d finally made his way to the lecture hall and now stood and pointed at the large screen. The science team had transformed the space into a temporary mission control center, desks and monitors spread across the floor. Every telescope on Earth seemed trained on the comet. The press—uninvited—occupied the upper seats, recording the buzz and breakthroughs.

Something shifted in the past few weeks. The comet, once on a stable course, had veered strangely near Mars. As it approached, the comet shattered. The first two fragments had already burned up in the Martian atmosphere. Cheers erupted every time the video of those explosions hit the screen. It was like a stadium watching replays of phenomenal sports plays.

David watched the third fragment impact—far larger than the others. A blinding flash overwhelmed their instruments. When it cleared, a colossal swath of Mars was blanketed in ash and fire.

He rushed to Dr. Justin Fredrickson’s station. Justin monitored seismic signals from the Curiosity rover—still operational, though barely.

“There’s no doubt that one hit the surface,” David said, breathless. “Anything from the seismometer?”

“It’s coming in now,” Justin replied.

Four minutes. That’s how long it took a signal to travel from Mars. But nobody thought about that. The room was suspended in a surreal, now-ness.

“Here it is.” Justin’s voice rose. “Off the charts. Over a ten. If it landed any closer, the rover would be toast.”

David stared at the data. The shockwave had already echoed three times across the planet.

“It’s ringing like a bell,” someone said.

“That was massive,” another said.

Even fragmented, the comet packed enormous force. David estimated that third piece was about 120 miles wide—roughly the size of Los Angeles. Bigger than the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs.

“There’s no telling what that’ll do to Mars,” David murmured. “I can’t wait to analyze the data.”

“So, you still insist on calling that thing a comet, Dr. Mitchell?”

David didn’t need to look. He knew that voice—Stan Johnson, Denver Post. Their confrontation earlier still lingered in his mind.

Spinning to face him, David noticed the folded arms, the skeptical smirk.

“Yes. Until a few days ago, it was a comet.” David tried to sound pleasant. “But you’re right. That head was unusually large.” He glanced around for a recorder. “Come on, Stan. You saw the tail. Millions of miles long.”

“Or maybe that wasn’t a tail at all.” Stan inched forward. “Maybe it was plasma. Maybe you know this isn’t a comet. That explosion? Ice doesn’t do that.”

“What are you getting at?” David stepped back.

Stan, leaning over the upper deck railing, didn’t let him go. “That tail. It didn’t come from sublimating ice. It came from something else. And maybe, just maybe, your other ‘comet’ is just as big. When are you going to tell the truth?”

David scanned the room. Most kept their gazes on Mars. No one was watching him.

“I don’t know anything more than I said at the press conference. The angle’s bad. We won’t have good readings until tomorrow.”

David turned to leave.

“One last question,” Stan said, voice edged with challenge.

David stopped, and sighed. Chin dipped. Steady breath.

“When will you know what kind of effect that impact had on Mars’s orbit?” Stan asked. “Could the collision have nudged Mars closer to Earth?”

Justin shot David a concerned grimace.

David’s mouth opened, hung there a second. He snapped it closed and rubbed his forehead. “Are you suggesting Mars just got shoved closer to us?”

“You just called it an asteroid.” Stan grinned. “And yes. My readers won’t care unless this affects them. Give me something to work with.”

David looked around. The others were baffled. “Come to my office tomorrow. We should have results by ten.”

“So, you’ve already thought about the orbit shift? Knew it.” Stan turned with a triumphant laugh and left the hall.

David stared after him.

This just got complicated.

—————————–

20.5 hours to Thunderbolt – 1:30 p.m. Mountain

“Dr. Mitchell?”

David looked up. He hadn’t heard the elevator.

“Oh no,” he muttered before catching himself. He stood. “Come in. I was just reviewing the report. Looks like you might be right.”

Stan hurried to his desk. “Where?”

David gestured to a screen showing a Mars-to-Earth orbital model for the next six weeks. “This part,” he said. “I’ll release it at two. But you can have it now.”

Stan extended his hand. David shook it, wary. “How would you like this spun?” Stan asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You wouldn’t give this early unless you wanted something. A nice paragraph about your comet, maybe?”

David frowned. “You’ve been hounding me for days. Now you want to cooperate?”

Stan laughed, settling into the visitor chair. “You look like you just made a deal with the devil.”

He wasn’t far off, except that was already a done deal. David slumped back. “I don’t get it.”

“I think I know what’s going on,” Stan said. “Your comet—if it’s as close as I think—will cause panic. But Mars? Mars is a warm-up act. If we spin this right, we can make the encounter with Mars seem harmless. Then, maybe, people will think the next one will be harmless too.”

“We don’t know what effect the next object will have,” David said. “And stop calling it a planet.”

“You just did.” Stan smirked. “You know it’s bigger than what hit Mars. And you know it pushed Mars a little to the right. Someone in the government told you to downplay this, didn’t they? Secret project?”

David burst out laughing. “You’ve watched too many disaster movies.”

He leaned forward. “There is no conspiracy. We really don’t know anything yet.”

Stan stood. “Then I’ll quote you saying exactly that. Thanks for the early access. You’ll send me the full report?”

David nodded, unsettled.

“Here’s my card.” Stan placed it on the desk. “I’ll expect the email in twenty minutes.”

“You’re welcome,” David said automatically.

As the door closed, he let out a long breath.

He had no idea the planet was about to speak for itself.

David had to get back to the airport and find a flight to D.C. He called his partner. “Joe, I’m going to try to get another flight to Washington, D.C. even if I have to stay at the airport all night.”

“About damned time,” Joe said. “Good luck.”

The highway stretched ahead of David now, mostly empty. Guess people hurried home to huddle with their families. That’s as it should be. Manny would be long gone—if he’d gotten on his flight. The dust should have settled down earlier in the day.

The afternoon sun sat in the sky ready to make its descent, but the light still felt wrong. Maybe it wasn’t just Manny who’d seen how this would play out.

David pressed the accelerator. He needed to get back to the airport and make things right.