Impact

63

"A . . . weapon," Ford repeated slowly.

Abbey glanced over at Jackie, who had been listening in silence.

"Exactly."

Ford passed his hand over his curly hair. "And what makes you think this?"

" 'When you have eliminated the impossible--.' "

"I know the quote," said Ford.

"Elementary, my dear Watson. A: the thing looks like a gun. B: it fired a miniature black hole that went through the Earth."

Ford leaned back. "That doesn't quite fit the facts. Even if it did 'fire' that thing and intended to destroy the Earth, it failed. And it hasn't tried again. If it's a weapon, it seems to have given up."

"How do you know it gave up? Maybe there's another shot coming."

Ford shook his head. "So these aggressive aliens . . . are they around somewhere? Living inside Deimos?"

Abbey snorted. "The aliens are long gone."

"Gone? How do you know?"

"Look at the picture. The thing's a derelict, all drifted up with dust and pitted. Nobody's taking care of it. Maybe the aliens left the weapon and split."

"What for?"

"Who knows? Not long before that thing took a potshot at us, the MMO made a close pass of Deimos, hitting it with radar and taking pictures. Maybe that woke it up. Maybe the aliens passed by here millions of years ago, saw a habitable planet and left a weapon to take care of any future technological civilizations that might challenge them. Hell, there could be thousands, millions of these weapons seeded throughout the galaxy."

"I hope you won't be offended if I express a candid opinion on your theories."

Abbey crossed her arms and waited.

"Great Twilight Zone plots."

"You think about it," Abbey said, "and see if you don't come to the same conclusion."

Ford sighed. "I will. But here's something you'll find interesting: according to my government sources, it wasn't a miniature black hole. It was a chunk of strange matter, or more precisely, an object known as a strangelet."

"What the heck's that?"

"A form of superdense matter," said Ford, "a bunch of particles called quarks all jammed together into a degenerate state . . . They think some apparent neutron stars might actually be strange stars or quark stars--made out of strange matter instead. You ever read Kurt Vonnegut?"

"Oh yeah," said Abbey, "I love his books."

"Remember that substance he called Ice-nine, from the story Cat's Cradle? It was a special kind of ice that when it came in contact with normal water, it converted it to ice at room temperature."

"I remember that."

"Strange matter is like that. When it comes in contact with normal matter, it starts converting it, gobbling it up, turning it into strange matter. Problem is, strange matter is so dense that whatever it touches gets crushed into almost nothing. If the Earth turned into strange matter, it would crush down to the size of an orange."

"Ouch."

"What's worse, the process is unstable. The Earth would then explode with a force so great that it would rip the outer layers off the sun and disrupt the solar system. It might even convert the sun to strange matter, resulting in a truly immense explosion. What's odd is that a tiny strangelet could blow right through the Earth pretty much unnoticed, as long as it was going fast enough. It wouldn't convert much matter and just continue merrily on its way, the Earth none the worse. If it were going slower and got caught inside the Earth, well, good-bye solar system."

"Why didn't it blow a bigger exit hole, cause a volcano or some kind of eruption?"

"Good question. A strangelet wouldn't build up a shockwave because it's absorbing all the matter it touches. It gobbles up matter as it goes along, leaving a tunnel in a vacuum which would immediately be sealed up behind by geologic pressure as it passed through. The only evidence of its passage would be a small entrance hole, a larger exit hole, and an unusual seismic signature."

Abbey whistled. "All this just reinforces my theory. A strangelet would be the ultimate weapon--think about it."

He rose, setting down the cup. "I don't know how much they know of this in Washington but I've got to get down there with that drive. I'll have to leave you here. I don't dare put you in protective custody at the CIA or even the local police, because I don't know who's after us. There's a possibility we're dealing with a rogue agency in our own government."

"But what about you? You go to Washington, they might just send you to Guantanamo or something."

"I've no choice. Because I think you may be right--that thing could be a weapon. The fate of the Earth might be at stake."

Abbey nodded.

"This island's as safe as any place for you now. Just lie low and I'll be back in contact with you in five days or less. You'll be okay?"

"Don't worry, we'll be fine."

He turned and grasped her arms. "You'll take me to the mainland this evening, at dusk, when the boat is less likely to be spotted." He paused, murmured, "A weapon . . . that's exactly what it is."