A Voice in the Night

CATHEDRAL

Matt Sunderland gazed at the Earth, which was just edging out from behind the Moon. From the L2 platform, Luna, of course, dominated the sky, a vast grey globe half in sunlight, half in shadow, six times larger than it would have appeared from his Long Island home. Usually, it completely blocked the gauzy blue and white Earth. On the bulkhead to his left, the Mars or Bust flag still hung, its corners fastened by magnets.

Mars or Bust.

Well, everybody knew how that was going. Sorry, guys, but the funding’s drying up. Looks as if we’re going to have to put it off for a couple of years. The way we’d put off the solar collector that was going to beam energy back to ground stations. And the way we’d put off Moonbase. To somebody’s credit, NASA had broken through and gotten the L2 station, the ideal place to launch whatever kind of space mission you wanted. Anything at all you wanted to do, any place you wanted to go, this would be where you started.

He could hear Judy back in the workout area, grunting and stretching, trying to keep herself in decent condition. They were the only two left on the platform now. He shook his head, and his eyes slid shut. He used to love using the main scope, training it on nebulae and clusters and sometimes places like Neptune which, for a short time, had almost seemed within reach. But the magic had gone away as it became increasingly apparent that no human being would ever actually touch any of them. When he’d first come to the L2 station, to Earthport, it had been heralded as a kind of bus terminal for traffic headed in all directions. It was hard to believe that had been only a year ago.

The radio beeped. Incoming from the Cernan. He pressed the key. “Earthport here,” he said. “Go ahead, Cernan.”

A familiar voice responded: “Earthport, I’m on my way.” It was Laura. “How are you, Matt?”

He leaned over the mike. “Laura, is that really you?”

“Far as I can tell.”

He wasn’t sure what to say next. “When did they start sending ops managers out to do retrievals?”

“About the same time ops managers starting going over their bosses’ heads.”

“Again?”

“I guess so.”

Matt had loved her since the first time he’d seen her, lying sprawled in center field after running into a fence, but holding the ball aloft in her gloved hand. But he’d long since given up. “What happened?” he asked.

“One of the cable news shows started running stories that we were on board with the defunding. That it was okay to shut down you guys. Dr. Prevost went on Worldwide and denied the story, but he looked so weak that it just made things worse. You know how Prevost is. Doesn’t want to offend the politicians. I complained to Louie. He told me to keep out of it. But I got myself invited onto Brick Collier and I guess I said a little too much.”

“So they demoted you?”

“I guess Louie thought this would be an appropriate way to send a message. Send me out to turn off the lights.”

Matt stared at the mike. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I’m sorry about a lot of things. We have a chance to get some serious results here and we’re walking away from it.” He listened to her breathe. “You guys packed and ready to go?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Very good, Matt. See you Friday.” Three days.

He leaned over the mike, savoring her voice, as smoky as her dark grey eyes. He’d always pretty much had his way with women. But his charm, whatever that might have been, had been insufficient with Laura. He’d had only a few weeks with her. And one glorious weekend. The weekend of his life. Now she was coming to take him home from the only assignment he’d ever really cared about. At the moment, she was in every sense of the phrase, far away.

“By the way,” she said, “I’m alone. There were supposed to be a couple of us on this one, but I guess they wanted to give me time to think about what I’d done.”

“Well, okay,” he said in a level voice that was supposed to come across as detached. “We’ll have a party when you get here.” She liked parties. She liked living, and being with other people, and watching the sun rise.

Laura had red hair and a bewitching smile. If she had a problem, it was that she’d never learned to hide her feelings. You looked at her and you knew immediately what she was thinking. He would not have described her as beautiful. At least not when he first met her. But his impression had changed as he worked with her, and got to know her. During those first few weeks she’d grown increasingly hard to resist. She was animated and funny and smart and she took over his life. But he’d made the colossal error of letting her see too soon how he felt. Damn, that had been dumb.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” she’d told him on that last night. “But we’re going to have to break it off.” They’d been out celebrating her thirty-second birthday, and she’d grown increasingly quiet during the evening. Then they’d gotten back to her apartment, and they stood just inside the doorway, the door not quite shut, and she’d turned on him. “Can’t do it anymore.”

“Why?” he’d asked. It had come as a complete surprise.

“Because my life is here, on the space coast. With NASA.” Her eyes had grown teary. “Matt, I want to walk on another world. I want to go to Mars, if that’s ever possible. It’s what I’ve always wanted. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really cared about.”

And he hadn’t known how to respond. Hadn’t understood what she was trying to say. “What has that to do with us? You could ride off to Pluto, if you like. I’d be cheering.”

“It would never happen if I were a mother.”

“Well, okay. Whatever—I mean, we haven’t talked about kids. Or anything like that.”

“I don’t do things halfway, Matt.” She’d looked at him, brushed his cheeks with her lips, and virtually pushed him out the door. “I’m sorry it has to end like this. Truth is, I’m sorry it has to end at all. But there’s no other way.” It was the last thing she’d said.

He looked down at the mike. It still hurt.

“You know, Matt,” she said, “this is the first time I’ve been out here alone.” She hesitated, about to say something more, and he could guess what it might have been, something along the line of her being uneasy lost in all this solitude. But she pulled back. He understood the feeling. And he knew her well enough to be aware that she didn’t like admitting any kind of weakness.

He’d learned that at their first meeting, which had been at a ballpark rather than at work. She’d been playing center field for the NASA women’s softball team. Matt had allowed a couple of the guys to talk him into attending the game because they claimed it was a good way to meet attractive ‘babes.’ He hadn’t really noticed Laura until she crashed into the centerfield fence tracking down a line drive late in the game. She’d bounced off the wooden planks and crumpled onto the grass.

Matt had served as an EMT in the past, and he’d wasted no time running out to her. Her only response when he arrived was to hold up the glove to show him she still had the ball. Her eyes were closed.

“Can you hear me?” he’d asked.

“Of course,” she’d said.

The stated purpose of Matt’s current assignment was to help determine what effects long-term zero gravity would have on the human body. There’d been some slight deterioration in bones and muscles, both his and Judy’s, but nothing that suggested a Martian voyage would not be possible. When the results had first come in, Matt got the impression that some of the people back home were disappointed. As if they were looking for a reason to call everything off. “I just never thought,” he continued, “it would end like this.”

“Nor did I,” said Laura.

He could visualize her, seated on the bridge, looking at the same quiescent Moon. And he wondered how she’d reacted when she’d been assigned to come out to the platform to pick him up.

Laura had launched from the International Space Station, which had become obsolete with the construction of the platform. Out here, vehicles could come and go without having to deal with gravity. Now, very likely, the window was closing and the space age was, finally, over.

“We need a cathedral,” she said.

He didn’t think he’d heard right. “Say again, Laura?”

“A cathedral. Matt, we went to the Moon because one night in 1957 the country looked up and saw Sputnik passing overhead. The civil rights movement got its start because one woman refused to go sit in the back of a bus.”

“What’s that have to do with a cathedral?”

“If you’re going to get somewhere, you have to have a symbol, something that stands for what you’re all about. You’re lost in the Middle Ages, going nowhere, with nothing to live for, but when they build the cathedral at Chartres, you find out what matters in life. What really counts. It’s what NASA needs right now.” She was suddenly there with him, in the operations center, drinking coffee, her eyes looking past him somewhere, sending the message that there were far more important things in the world than any personal relationship between them.

“Well, maybe. You have any ideas?”

“Sure. Maybe the Chinese will do it for us.”

“How do you mean?”

“Think how we’d react if they started setting up a base on the Moon. Or, even better, if we could spot an alien vehicle out around Saturn. Lord, that would produce some results.”

“You read too much science fiction, Laura.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t want to see everything go under.” Her voice caught. It was the first time he’d sensed that level of emotion in her. “Maybe we could fake something?”

There wasn’t much left to do on the platform. The project seal, which had been imprinted on one of the bulkheads, a rocket crossing through a set of Saturnian rings, seemed especially sad as he and Judy sat quietly in the operations area, talking about what they would do when they got home. Their careers with NASA were pointless now. Judy Parker had been the pilot when Matt came to the platform. “It’s time,” she said, “to go back and find something else to do with my life. Maybe even start a family.”

“You serious?”

“Sure.” She’d flown jets in one of the endless Middle East wars. But she was one of the gentlest people Matt had ever known. It was hard to imagine her in the cockpit of a fighter. She was an African-American, cool, calm, impossible to rattle. When they’d blown an engine on the ride to L2, she’d told him to relax, had put on a pressure suit and pushed out through the airlock. Then she came back, shrugged, threw some switches, and the problem had gone away. But the decision to shut down the L2 had gotten to her. “I’ve given most of my adult life to NASA,” she’d told him when the announcement had come in. “I’m done. I’m tired of politicians who can find money to throw into one war after another, but can’t fix the highways or hire teachers. And certainly can’t get themselves together for something that requires a little bit of imagination.”

She stared at Matt. “You know,” she said, “I suspect if, several thousand years from now, somebody goes back to the Moon—” Her eyes brightened and her voice caught. “—If they go back to the Moon, they might be surprised when they see footprints.” She cleared her throat. Stiffened. “Well, we’ll see what happens.”

Matt was more optimistic. “Eventually, we’ll make it. We’ll put a colony on Mars and keep going. It might not be you or me. But somebody will head out of town.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. She was an attractive woman. She wore her hair short, and she had an easy smile. But there was something in her manner that always reminded you who was in charge.

“Judy, are you going to stay with the Agency?”

“The Agency’s leaving me, Matt,” she said. “I don’t know them anymore.”

The radio beeped. Matt picked up and heard a male voice: “Earthport, this is Houston. We have reports of an incoming asteroid. Data is being fed to your computer. It’s not very big. Coming in from behind the Moon. Out in your area. It’s why we didn’t pick it up earlier.”

“They think it’s our fault,” said Judy, smiling.

Matt held up a hand while he tried to listen. “We just got word half an hour ago,” Houston continued. “It’s probably not a problem, but we do not have a good angle. Please get us a reading.”

“Houston, you guys sent the scientists home last month. What precisely do you want? Vector and velocity?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

Snotnose. “I’ll get back to you.” He sat down at the control board, grumbled, and turned dials.

“Need help?” asked Judy.

“No, I’ve got it.” Display lines appeared on the monitor. Auxiliary screens lit up. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the data coming in from Houston.” He relayed it into the direction finder and studied the results. “They’re right. They can’t see it from the ground.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” said Judy. “If the Moon blocks it off, it can’t get anywhere near Earth, right?”

“The Moon doesn’t stay in one place,” said Matt.

“Oh. Yes. Good point.”

Stars moved steadily across the main display. A blinker appeared. Matt tapped the screen with his index finger. “There it is.”

“How big is it?”

The rock was shaped like a chicken leg, bulbous at one end, relatively narrow at the other. It was turning slowly, tumbling, moving in the general direction of the Moon. “Looks like about fifty meters across at its widest point. Maybe two hundred meters long.”

“That’s not exactly small.”

“Nope.”

“Got a velocity?”

“Hold on.” He waited for the numbers to steady up. “Looks like about twenty klicks per second.”

More lights appeared and began blinking. Matt pushed one of the pads with his index finger. “And we have a vector.”

“Is it going to hit the Moon?” said Judy.

He brought up images representing the asteroid and the Moon. A red line extended out from the asteroid. It moved toward the lunar rim. And narrowly missed it.

“No,” said Matt. He zoomed out, bringing the Earth into the picture. The line continued toward the planet. And again skipped past the edge.

“Not by much,” Judy said. “But I guess they can stop worrying.”

Matt went back to the mike. “Houston, this is Earthport.”

“Go ahead, Earthport.” A different voice this time. One of the comm ops.

“We’ve forwarded the data. You guys can relax.”

“Thanks. Glad to hear it.”

“Let us know if you need anything else. Earthport out.”

“You know what would be really nice?” said Judy. “If that thing was headed directly for New York, and we had a ship to go out there and hit it with a laser cannon. Like the Enterprise.”

Judy was back in the washroom while Matt sat quietly watching the Cernan. Its course was bringing it around the side of the Moon. “Laura,” he said, “I have you onscreen.”

“Roger that. I see you too.”

A long pause, while he tried to think of something else to say. “It’ll be good to get back to the Cape.”

“I’m sure it will. You’ve been out here how long? Eight months?”

“A year.” He stared at the blinker. “I hate to leave, but it’ll be good to get some fresh air again.”

“I guess so.” Another long pause. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Matt.”

“You, too,” he said. “Still playing ball?”

“When I get the chance. But I’m not hitting much. I think the coach is hoping I’ll run into another fence.”

Matt felt as if his mind had emptied. “Well,” he said, “I better get back to work.”

“Okay. Cernan out.”

He took a deep breath. When he was in contact with her, it was as if he was back in high school.

When the Earth moved out from behind the Moon, allowing direct transmissions to the L2 platform, Houston routinely beamed a bundled TV signal. It tended to be a collection of films, current news shows, and whatever else might be of interest. Judy and Matt hadn’t seen anything for several weeks, so they scanned the latest package with interest. It included several late night comedians. AMC was running an old John Wayne marathon. Sports Center was talking about the new fan movement which had resulted from continuing escalation of ticket prices. Millions of the baseball faithful had signed a pledge to boycott games and cancel TV service during the coming major league season. Nobody, though, believed they would actually abide by it.

California was considering a law that would legalize group marriage. Chester Winslow was throwing his hat in the ring for the GOP nomination. Another candidate, William Forrest, was attacking the current administration for defunding NASA. And CNN announced breaking news: Margo Everett, the enormously popular singing sensation, had been arrested on a DUI.

While the onscreen experts were discussing the impact of the Everett arrest, the crawler reported that an asteroid had been sighted, and that it would pass close to Earth.

They went to financial news. Then, when they came back to the newsroom, the story had been elevated: The host, Clive Thomas, introduced Professor Edward Albright, from the American Museum of Natural History. “What can you tell us about this asteroid, Professor?” said Thomas. “Is it a threat?”

Albright was young, probably still in his twenties. He looked worried. “We know,” he said, “the asteroid’s present course will bring it very close to us. It’ll pass through the southern sky Friday at about 5:00 a.m. In fact, we should be able to see it. But, to get to the important part, it will miss us. If it stays on its present course.”

“Good.” Thomas smiled, but then his face clouded. “I think. What do you mean ‘if it stays on its present course’?”

Albright tried a lighthearted laugh, but he wasn’t good at it. “It’s simple enough, Clive. The asteroid will also pass very close to the Moon. That’s going to have an effect. And we’re not sure yet how that might change things.”

“An effect on the direction it goes, you mean?”

“Yes. The Moon’s gravity will bend its vector somewhat. In our direction.”

“So you’re saying it might hit us?”

“I’m saying probably not. But at this point we can’t be sure.”

“Okay, Professor. If it does come in on us, how much damage will it do?”

“Clive, it’s two hundred meters long. Judging by its reflection, it looks like nickel-iron. Unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?”

“Nickel-iron is heavier, more massive, than rock.”

“Okay. It keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?”

“We’ll probably be okay. I really wouldn’t begin to worry yet.”

“So how big an impact would it have, Professor? I mean, how big is two hundred meters?”

“About two football fields.”

“That doesn’t sound good. how big an impact would that be?”

Albright took a deep breath. “Clive, have you ever been out to the Barringer Crater in Arizona?”

“You mean Meteor Crater?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. I’ve been there.” An image of the crater appeared onscreen.

“The object that hit out there would have been about the same size and density as this thing that’s coming in now.”

“My God, Professor. Do you have any idea where it would hit? If it does hit?”

“We don’t, Clive. And look, I don’t want to start a panic. The thing will probably just pass across the sky. Let’s hope so.”

“When will we know for certain?”

“After it gets past the Moon.”

They went to commercial. A smarmy lawyer came on, and started explaining how he would stand up for any viewer who got injured in an accident. In the middle of it, the radio beeped. It was Laura. “Matt,” she said, “I’m being diverted.”

“To the Moon?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Yes. They’re timing it so I can get a good look at this thing during its passage. They’re calling it 2024-MY. Anyhow, I wanted to let you know I’ll be a little bit late picking you guys up.”

“I guess so. So you’re going to get a close-up? What’s the point of that?”

“You haven’t heard from them yet?”

“Not since the first time.”

“Okay. They’re trying to figure out whether there’s a problem. Whether this thing is going to get pulled off course enough to cause a collision. To do that—”

The radio beeped again. Another call. “Hang on, Laura. I think we’re about to hear from them. I’ll get back to you.” He switched over.

“This is Houston.” The lawyer went away and was replaced by pictures of asteroids. “We’re trying to get a handle on where the asteroid will go after it interacts with the Moon. We’re sending Laura to track the passage. We want you to coordinate with her so we can watch this thing from both angles. That should provide us with enough data to figure out where it’s going.”

Matt looked over at Judy. “You know how to do that?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Okay, Houston. When’s all this going to start?”

“In about eighteen hours. We want you to lock onto the asteroid and follow it all the way in until it passes the Moon.”

Scopes were mounted fore and aft on the Cernan. Matt watched the Moon slide slowly into the center of his auxiliary screen as Laura turned and headed directly toward it. “I’m going into orbit,” she said. “If we have it right, the asteroid will come directly over the top of the Moon. Around the side from your perspective. I’ll get close to it on the back side my second time around. The plan is that as it makes its closest approach to the Moon, I’ll leave orbit and assume a parallel course. I’ll be in front of it when we start, but it’ll catch up and pass me pretty quickly. I should be able to get a good read on it, though.”

He was uncomfortable. “I wish I was there with you.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Judy opened her mike. “There’s a lesson to be learned from this, Laura,” she said. “I hope the PR guys at NASA take advantage of it. There’s no reason we should have to be concerned about incoming rocks.” She took a deep breath. “Idiot politicians.”

Laura laughed. He remembered the last time he’d seen her, at an award ceremony for the people who’d designed the L2 platform. She’d been seated toward the front, caught up in the celebration, lovelier than ever, pretending not to see him. And then she’d surprised him by tracking him down outside to congratulate him on getting assigned to the station. Then she’d been gone again.

“You know,” she said, “it almost makes me wish the thing would hit. A desert somewhere, maybe, where it wouldn’t do any harm.”

“I’m not sure there’s any place on the planet where it wouldn’t do some serious damage,” Matt said.

And Judy picked it up: “Six to ten megatons. If nothing else, Matt, that would throw a lot of dust into the atmosphere.”

“We’d be in for a cold summer.”

“I know. That’s why I said almost.”

“I’ll be glad,” he said, “when this is over.”

“Me, too.” Laura’s voice was soft. But very far away. “You guys were right about the laser cannons.”

“I know,” said Matt.

“Maybe I could throw something at it.”

Matt tried to think of a witty response. What could she throw at the rock that would get a laugh? A shoe, maybe?

“The only reason I joined NASA,” said Laura, “was that I hoped one day I’d get a chance to go to Mars. My folks always thought I was deranged.”

“We all are, Laura. You have to be to come out here. But hell, we haven’t even made it to the Moon.”

“Matt, you’re well out past the Moon.”

“But I’ve never set foot on it. Despite all the talk the last few years we’ve done almost nothing.”

“We built Earthport.”

“It’s not the same thing. Earthport is supposed to be a gateway, a first step to serious space exploration. But what happened? We changed administrations and a new president comes in, looks at the budget and shakes his head. Cost-cutting always starts with us.”

When Matt arrived back in the operations area next morning, Judy was talking with Laura. “Just don’t get too close,” she said.

Laura’s voice was electric: “Don’t worry, babe. That is a very big rock.”

“Maybe you’ll get a promotion out of this, Laura.”

“Maybe I’ll get invited to the Jerry McComber Show.”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?”

“Are you serious? That guy’s really a hunk.”

Judy’s lips tightened slightly. Then: “Oh, hi, Matt.”

“Good morning, Matt,” Laura said. “Finally got up, I see.”

“Hi, ladies. How’s the flight coming?”

“Laura’s getting close to the Moon.”

The lunar surface, still on view through the Cernan’s scopes, had been relatively smooth last night. Now it was all craters and ridges and broken rock. “You still on schedule, Laura?” he asked.

“As far as I can tell.”

“Can you see the asteroid?”

“Not right now. The Moon’s in the way. Houston tells me it’s beginning to accelerate.”

“Lunar gravity.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. If you need anything, let us know. And—”

“Yes, Matt?”

“I still think we’ll get to Mars.”

“It would be nice.”

“When we do, could I persuade you to have dinner with me?”

“You think we could find a good pizza place there?”

“If that’s what it takes, sure.”

“Maybe,” he said, “we’ll get a break. If the asteroid were to go close enough to scare the devil out of everybody, maybe they’d realize they need us.”

“Maybe,” said Judy. “I think they’d be rattled for two days, and then they’d forget. By the way, can I offer an observation?”

“Sure.”

“I can’t imagine you’re ever going to be able to get Laura into that Martian pizza place. But, from the way she sounds, I’d say you have a pretty good shot at Rusty’s.” Rusty’s Seafood was a popular spot down at the harbor.

The radio beeped. “This is Houston. Laura won’t have enough fuel left to pick you guys up when this is over, so we’re going to bring her home after she completes the asteroid survey. We’ll be sending somebody else out for you. They haven’t told me yet who it’ll be. But the pickup will be a couple of days late. Sorry.”

Damn. “Roger that, Houston.”

“By the way, we’ve gotten a better read on the asteroid. If the Moon weren’t in the way, it would pass well outside the upper atmosphere over the Atlantic, and keep going. The experts think now that the lunar passage won’t affect it much. The consensus is that we’ll probably be okay. Maybe get a light show, but nothing more.”

Nobody had ever affected him the way Laura had. Looking back now, he realized that she’d been sending signals all along, we do not have a future. And finally, after they’d come home from celebrating her birthday and were standing in front of her apartment, she’d pulled aside and told him. That had been two years ago and he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. Maybe there was a chance, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. If he got another opportunity, he’d play it more cautiously. Not let himself look too eager. Maybe she’d see what she’d let get away.

Laura had begun as someone to fill in during a slow period in his life, and had become, in just that handful of evenings, unforgettable. He didn’t understand how that could have happened. Maybe it was because he’d worked with her, knew her, had spent time with her, and all that had come into play. She was not simply a stranger he’d picked up in a bar, but a woman he’d thought of as a friend who’d turned out to be so much more.

And she shared his passion for walking on another world. “My life won’t be complete,” she’d told him once, “if I don’t get to do that.” And she’d realized how that sounded and they’d both laughed.

“As long,” he’d replied, “as you don’t leave a large hole in the ground.”

The way he had—

The news channels couldn’t let go of the story. Scientists and politicians were showing up and warning everyone to look out. The usual political experts were discussing the effect an impact might have on the presidential race. It would, according to the common wisdom, very likely hand the election to the challenger. They all admitted no one knew whether the asteroid, after its brush with the Moon, would simply continue on its way, or whether, as one commentator was saying, it would blast into the Atlantic and generate tidal waves that would spell disaster around the world. If it hit, the least we could expect, they were saying, was another round of climate change which would dwarf everything that had gone before. There’d be widespread famine, clouds of dust would block off sunlight possibly for years, forests would burst into flames.

Churches had begun holding special services. Homeowners were storing supplies and filling containers with fresh water. FEMA announced it was going on standby. The White House issued a statement that there was no reason to worry, which probably scared the general public as much as anything. William Forrest, whom Matt thought of as generally deranged, told a town meeting in Oregon that, if he were elected, “this sort of thing won’t happen again. I guarantee it.” Will MacReady, on the 700 Club, announced that the asteroid was at the very least a warning that we all needed to pray harder.

“We’re picking up the Cernan again,” said Judy.

She need not have said anything. Matt had been watching the time, and the monitors, which would acquire any signal from Laura. And, virtually to the second that Laura had a clear line to the platform, she was back. “Hi, guys,” she said. And they were looking through the Cernan’s aft telescope at a slice of lunar landscape. “It’s getting close.”

Judy nodded. “We’ve been watching it.”

“Seventy-four minutes, looks like.”

“That’s how we read it, Laura.”

Judy looked over at him. Did he want to say something?

While he tried to come up with something, Laura took it: “I’ve been listening to the reaction at home. They sound as if they’re all hiding under their beds.”

Judy was still watching him. “Maybe a good scare is what they need,” she said.

“I hope this doesn’t become a problem, Judy.”

He thought he picked up a note of frustration. “Nothing’s changed, has it, Laura?” he asked.

“No. Just one thing. I don’t know whether you’ve been informed or not. They’re calling me back home when this is over. I think they want me to go on TV. The official story will be,” she laughed, “that we scared the thing off.”

“You’ll look great.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Actually, I won’t have enough fuel to make it out to the platform.”

“We know. They told us.”

Her forward scope provided a view of the Earth rising over the lunar horizon. “I’d never seen that before,” said Laura.

Matt smiled. Yeah. Wish we could watch it together. “Okay, Laura,” he said. “Be careful. Let us know if we can help.”

“Roger that. See you back home.”

Judy’s eyes glittered and she pretended to be concentrating on her notebook. But she was smiling. “Are you seeing her, Matt?” she asked, finally.

“No.” He was about to say something more but he wasn’t sure what so he shut up.

Judy let her disappointment show. “She’d be a good catch.”

He shrugged: “The Cape’s loaded with attractive women.”

Judy looked over at the control panel. “I think the mike’s still on.”

The comment startled him. He glanced down at it, trying to look casual. “Best way to win a woman’s heart,” he said, “is to pretend to forget to turn off the mike and then let her know she has competition.”

Laura got to the front side of the Moon, out of sight on her second orbit. The auxiliary display had gone blank.

They were watching the Clive Thomas Show again. Another scientist was seated with the host. An elderly guy with a fringe of white hair lining his skull and thick bifocals. “We can’t really get a decent look at the asteroid now, Clive,” he was saying. “It’s behind the Moon, so the only place they can see it from is the L2 platform. And they don’t really have the kind of telescope we need for this.”

“And we can’t use any ground-based telescopes?”

“No, the key player in making the determination about this thing will be the Cernan. If it gets a good read as the asteroid passes the Moon, we’ll know very quickly exactly what we’re facing.”

“But you’re optimistic, Dr. Capers?”

“Let’s say I’m hopeful.”

“When will we be able to see it? Earthbound telescopes?”

“In another hour or so. It’ll come around the side of the Moon.”

“If it’s bad news, will you be able to determine exactly where it’ll hit?”

“Oh, yes. Once we get the readouts from the L2 Platform and the Cernan, especially the Cernan, we should be able to put it right together. But I don’t think it’s very likely there’s anything to worry about.”

“How long will it take to reach its closest approach to us?”

“Clive, it’s been picking up speed on its approach to the Moon. It’ll add some more velocity when it gets inside the Earth’s gravity field. We estimate when it passes us it’ll be moving at about twenty-three kilometers per second.”

“So how many hours?”

“Four and a half. More or less.”

Matt’s assignment was to handle the telescope, to keep it trained on the asteroid. He’d also oversee data collection and relay to the Cernan. Judy would try to interpret what they were getting, deliver a verdict, and send the results to Houston.

They were watching the asteroid through the Cernan’s aft telescope. It was battered and scarred, a gray cold object, now more club than chicken-leg, tumbling end over end, slowly closing on the Moon.

Laura’s voice came over the speaker: “Adjusting orbit. Have to pick up some velocity.”

“You’re going to make the rendezvous okay, right?” asked Judy. “Before it gets past?”

Matt had seen Laura once with a guy he didn’t know. He’d been on the beach when they’d come out of the surf. And he’d overheard a nearby male say Hell, look at that. How’d you like to do that one, Walt?

He replayed the scene in his mind, as vivid now as it had been when it happened. He had no recollection what the guy she was with had looked like. But he took some satisfaction in the knowledge he hadn’t been able to hold onto her either.

Then Laura’s voice: “Looks good, guys.”

It was coming right up her tailpipe. “Laura,” said Matt, “aren’t you out of position?”

“Negative. I’m right where I should be.”

“You’re too low.”

“I’ll be at two thousand meters during passage.”

“For God’s sake, Laura, that’s lower than the rock. You’re supposed to stay above it.”

“How about you let me steer this thing, Matt? I can get a better look at it from where I am.”

Judy shook her head. Mouthed her next words: “Let it be.”

“Roger that,” he said.

Judy was studying her display. “It’s coming in lower than they predicted.”

He knew that the higher it was as it crossed the lunar surface, the less likely it would impact Earth. “That’s not good news. How low?”

“Looks like about forty-five hundred meters.”

“You hear that, Laura?” he said.

“I heard it.”

“Okay. Stay out of its way.”

Silence poured out of the mike.

He took a deep breath. “Laura, are you in direct contact with Houston?”

“Negative.”

“Okay. Pass everything to us. When we have a result we’ll send it to them.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

The asteroid was growing larger, still tumbling slowly, a lopsided dancer coming out of the stars. Matt could pick out a couple of craters and a broken ridge line.

“Leaving orbit,” said Laura. “Moving onto parallel course.”

Below, the moonscape rippled past.

Matt couldn’t help holding his breath.

Laura was accelerating, but the target was still coming up fast. In a minute or two it would sail past, above and off to her port side.

Judy stared at the monitors. “I don’t like the altitude numbers. I think they’re still within a safe range, but she’s too close.”

Laura again: “What do you think? Is it going to clear?”

“Hold on, Laura,” said Matt. “We’re working on it. Stay out of the way.”

“Where’s my laser cannon?”

“Laura,” he said, “would you please—?”

“I’m not kidding, Matt. The numbers don’t look so good.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“Laura—”

“There’s a decent chance that thing’s going to impact.”

“It isn’t.”

“We don’t know that.”

Judy broke in: “Laura, we can be pretty sure it will make a clean pass.”

“Pretty sure isn’t good enough. If this thing goes down, it’ll be a killer.”

“Laura—”

“We’re running out of time to make a call, Matt—”

“Don’t do anything—”

“—If it gets past me—”

A chill ran through him. “Damn it, there’s no way we can be certain, but it is very unlikely there will be a problem.”

The lunar surface began to drop away and the asteroid filled the screen. “Back off,” said Judy. “Laura, you’re only 500 meters away from the damned thing.”

“I can’t be sure, guys—”

“What are you doing, Laura?” demanded Judy. “Back off, damn it.”

Everything froze. Matt stared at the asteroid, at the crevices and craters and ridge lines and the bleak cold rock. All slowly turning. And growing. “Laura,” he said. “Get the hell away from it. What are you doing?”

“No choice,” Laura said. “I just don’t know—”

“Laura.” Judy all but strangled the mike. “It’s still too high. It’s not going to hit anything. Get away from it.”

“Laura,” he said, “answer up. Do you hear us?”

“Damn the torpedoes,” Laura said. “Oh, I forgot. I don’t have any torpedoes.”

They were both screaming at her when the display went blank. “What happened?” said Matt. “What the hell did she do?”

Judy was staring at the screen. “I think she crashed the goddamn thing.”

Matt went to full mag, seized the monitor, and shook it. “Come on, damn you.”

It stayed blank.

“She’s gone,” said Judy.

“No no no.” Matt banged his fist on the chair arm. “No! Please, God, no.”

For a long time no one spoke. Matt trained the telescope on the asteroid and they watched as it continued on its vector. And there was the Cernan, crumpled, falling away.

Air moved through the vents. Judy was silent for a long time. Then: “It’s changed course. Not much. But a little.”

“Laura.” Matt called out her name. “Laura, are you there? Please—”

Judy put her hand on his arm. “Matt.”

He was having a hard time breathing. “Is it going to miss?”

She extended the asteroid vector line toward the blue globe representing Earth. It came close but passed well outside the atmosphere. “Yes. Not by much. But it will miss.”

“Judy, did she do that? Push it aside?”

A second vector line appeared, paralleling the first. It was slightly closer to the globe, but still a miss. “No,” she said. “This is where it would have gone. Whatever she did, it made no significant difference.”

The radio beeped. Transmission from Houston. They ignored it. “She had no way to know whether it would hit or not,” said Matt.

“That’s not true.” Judy took a deep breath. “She had the same information we did. Except she had it a few seconds earlier. She had to know it would miss. She panicked. Or she just got too close—”

Matt shook his head, fighting back tears. “I can’t see her panicking. She said something about once it got past—”

Judy’s eyes darkened. “She intended all along to ram the thing if she had to.”

“Not if she had to,” said Matt. “I think she made up her mind to do it no matter what.”

“That can’t be right. Remember? She said how we were running out of time to make a call.”

“Judy, that was for the media. She knew everything she said would show up on Clive Thomas. That comment was for the voters.”

“I don’t get it,” said Judy.

Matt stared at the asteroid. He hated the thing with a venom unlike any emotion he’d felt in his life. “Have we relayed any of this to Houston yet?”

“No. Why?”

“We might have to make some adjustments.” He took a deep breath. “Nobody except us knows the rock would have missed regardless of what she did.”

“What are you saying?” demanded Judy.

He closed his eyes and watched Laura charging across the outfield. “Judy, she’s handed us a cathedral.”