Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (34 page)

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Authors: G.B. Brulte,Greg Brulte,Gregory Brulte

BOOK: Giddeon (Silver Strand Series)
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Chapter 96
 
 

The asteroid continued to spin as it has for over 4 billion years.
 
Weekly adjustments were made to the output of the ion engine after careful deliberation between Ray and his team.
 
Periodically, a spray of white paint or reflective strips would be added to the acreage already put down on the huge, floating mountain.
 
Often, it was pure guesswork involved, but the scientists around him noted that their boss had an uncanny ability to predict what actions would result in specific reactions, even though the results were small and could barely be quantified.

 

Bradford spent quite a bit of time in
West Texas
.

 

Sometimes, he would jet off to a location on the electrical grid or to a nuclear plant in order to supervise an important installation or renovation, but, then, it was right back to his Mission Control.
 
His billionaire buddies were a tremendous help in keeping the day to day operations of the infrastructure work moving forward.
 
Most of them had political connections that expedited the civil engineering that was occurring on a massive scale, both domestically and overseas.

 

Every day, without fail, Raymond would call Jennifer at 7 o’clock P.M.,
Grand Cayman
time, to update her on his progress and to ask for any input from her quick mind.

 

Mostly, they talked business.
 
Still, she found that she looked forward to the daily contact from her friend.
 
Sometimes, they would just chat about nothing in particular for a while, and then they would each hang up the phone with a bit of hesitation, as if more should have been said.
 
Most of the time, when they were conversing, Sampson would sit at Dr. Evan’s feet and look at the receiver with expectant, liquid eyes… almost as if he knew one of his masters was on the other end.
 
Every now and then, Ray would have her put the phone down to the dog’s head and he would talk to his pet while she smiled at the silliness of the situation.
 
Sampson would perk up his ears and wag his tail.
 
Sometimes he would bark and turn in a circle.
 
Then Jennifer would ask if he heard the response and they would laugh, together, at the Black Lab.

 

At night, Sampson slept on the foot of her King-Sized bed.

 
 

*****

 
 

The Indian space-craft made its way closer and closer to an intersection of trajectories with the asteroid.
 

 

As the fateful day drew near, Raymond and the President discussed the probability of the rocket disturbing the secret operations already in progress.
 
Most likely, debris from an impact would have a fairly high probability of disabling Ray’s ion engine, although the exact odds were impossible to calculate… at least for scientists without access to inter-dimensional data… so, the two men mulled over their options.

 

Bradford
knew that the Indian mission would almost assure that his engine would be compromised and that the odds of the asteroid slamming into the Earth would go up dramatically.
 
Rather than have the President disclose their project and attempt to intervene on his behalf, Ray downplayed the chances of the Indian payload causing irreparable damage to his craft, and suggested that he let the impact occur.
 

 

Unbeknownst to the President, Raymond had other plans for dealing with the approaching rocket.
 

 
 

*****

 
 

Newscasts and magazines began to cover the impending impact of the Sub-Continent’s rocket with fervor.
 
Although most scientists agreed that the asteroid poised only a slight danger to the Earth, the story was too much ‘made for television’ to ignore.
 
Websites were created for tracking the progress of the mission and, also, to track the iron-nickel behemoth.
 
‘Impact Parties’ were organized amongst communities with a nerdy slant.
 
It was all taken kind of lightly, since the projected path of the rock was so widely considered to be inconsequential.

 
 

*****

 
 

Twenty-four hours from impact, the Indian rocket began ignoring commands from Earth.
 
Try as the scientists might, the signals they sent had no effect on the attitude and direction of the projectile.
 
The appointed time came and went, and radio transmissions continued to be broadcast from the rocket to
India
, indicating that the craft was intact and heading out into deep space at 21,000 miles per hour.
 
It had missed its target.

 

Ray’s transponder had jammed the commands.
 
The device had been integrated into his Lander’s construction and its frequency blocking abilities programmed according to
Giddeon’s
directions.
 
Only a few people on
Bradford
’s team knew of its existence.
 
The jammer had worked on the Indian rocket because of the type of electronics utilized by that mission.
 
Raymond kept the information to himself because he didn’t want the President to realize just how far out into the future his prognosticating ‘program’ was capable of seeing.

 

The Russians had used more secure communication technologies, which had necessitated the use of a more sophisticated tactic.

 

The satellite that had fried the guidance system of the Russian rocket a few months before was so secret that none of the
United States
’ allies were even aware of the state of the art technology.
 
‘Star Wars’, an ICBM defense shield started many years before under another administration, had never been abandoned as was reported in the press.

 
 

*****

 
Chapter 97
 
 

Giddeon spends a lot of time on that rock.
 
Sometimes I go with him and sit there as he tries to calculate minor variations in the path of the asteroid as it makes its way through the cold, dark ether that permeates our universe.
 
My husband monitors the rotational cycle and orientation of that huge piece of nickel and iron, and does his best to determine the optimal times and durations to fire the ion engine sitting there on the glue-bottomed Lander.

 

He usually brings along some high-tech equipment and sets it up like a futuristic surveyor on a magnetic tripod.
 
Somehow my Google-bug can follow the unbelievably minor deviations of the body by positions of the stars and the periodicity of their arrival over its pock-marked horizon.
 
I don’t understand his calculations and I don’t even try.
 
But, I do like being there with him as he goes through his work day with a cute little furrow in his brow, totally attuned to the rhythms of the celestial hazard.

 

My sweetie stores all of the data in that make-believe brain of his, and, as you know, relays it to you guys every week or so.

 

Do you think a little nudge in just the right place and at just the right time can make such a difference in the grand scheme of things?
 
Are events so balanced that just a touch can alter the course of humanity?
 

 

I think maybe it can.

 

When I begged you to give Greg your name that day in
Seaport
Village
, I think somehow you heard me.
 
I believe when Giddeon tried to drag his other half from the chair, it had some small effect.
 
If you two would have never spoken, I can’t imagine how different my life would be.
 
I can’t imagine not having my soul-mate to hold my hand over here in our world.
 
Can you imagine not being married?
 
Can you picture not having Little Gid?
 
Little Gid with his sweet smile and shining eyes?

 

The tiniest things can have the largest effects.
 
We all make our ripples in this cosmic pond, and the reflections on its surface are influenced by how we drift, dive and swim through the waters around us.
 
And, what is the reflection of?
 
Who is looking down on the mirror of the liquid in which we reside?
 
Is there an image that is ever changing?
 
Is the one to whom the image belongs unsure of their actual appearance due to the infinite permutations of the looking glass?
 
Is God changed by having children like we are changed by ours?
 

 

Are you the same as you were before your son?

 

Has the chance meeting of one egg and one seed forever altered not only you, but the world you inhabit?

 

 
And, would any of that have happened without a little nudge?
 

 

I like to think I played some minor part in the symphony of your life.
 
Some little piece of the melody that is Melody.
 
Now, I only hope that your changes are effecting changes on the asteroid.
 
I hope that all of the people involved in the project are doing the right things and hitting the right notes… the notes that will help Ray conduct the path of the rock to another concert in another arena.
 

 

I sincerely hope that the asteroid doesn’t collide with our dreams and our destinies.
 
I hope it skims on by, and people look up and realize how precarious our existence is at this moment in history.
 
All of our eggs are in one basket, and not only is the basket weave fraying, the eggs have hatched and the fledglings are fighting.
 
Fighting amongst themselves instead of testing their wings.
 

 

Birds are meant to fly, and Man is meant to soar.
 

 

Raymond understands that.
 
He understands that out there past the asteroid and past our solar system is where our destiny lives and breathes.
 
Past
Eden
and beyond.
 
I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and I only hope that the futures are for real and not just probabilities.
 
I hope that the magic is more than just magic, and that the dreams are more than just dreams.
 
I hope that the little bits of matter that are part and parcel of the grand illusion of time and space are actually solid enough to one day become our reality, and that we all connect with the silver strands that are woven into such a magnificent tapestry.

 

But, most of all, I hope that we all find love… even the monsters.
 
And, even if it’s just for a brief few moments… a few ticking’s of the clock before being extinguished by a fiery impact and a mass extinction event… it will have all been worth it.

 

I know that’s a lot to wish for, but, I think you’re starting to rub off on me.
 
Or, maybe it’s Giddeon.
 
Or, maybe it’s hormones.
 
Whatever it is, I feel like the most important element in the world isn’t on the Periodic Table… and, neither is the second most important…

 

Love... and, hope.

 
 

*****

 
Chapter 98
 
 

As the asteroid moved closer towards the sun, an event that Giddeon had predicted finally occurred.
 
A pocket of gas and ice heated enough to burst through the fragile crust of the rock and expelled in a massive plume that pushed forcefully enough upon the body to significantly alter its trajectory.
 

 

The changes were noted on Earth, and alarmed astronomers scrambled to confirm their observations.
 
Although the information, for the most part, was kept within the scientific community, the panic among those ‘in the know’ was obvious.
 
The President was one of a handful of people not surprised by the news.

 

Raymond Bradford had told him almost to the second when this change in trajectory would occur.

 
 

*****

 
 

For the next couple of months, Mankind continued to interact with the planet and life forms of the planet as it had for thousands of years… without full awareness.
 
At any given time during recorded history, a plethora of examples can be found for the disregarding of gifts and the rejection of nurturing sustenance offered by our Earth and its fellow inhabitants.
 
War and greed tends to scar the surface and depths of our world as surely as night follows day.

 

It’s just the way it is.
 

 

But, it’s not all ignorance, waste and despair.
 
At the same time that negative events mar our existence, peace and cooperation also flower.
 
Most interaction is civil and non-violent.
 
The number of people in conflict is usually far outnumbered by the number of people behaving in a civil fashion.
 
Science is mostly focused on benefitting our lives and our environments.
 
Technology is usually geared towards a sustainable version of the future.

 

Still, the damage that is done by harmful interactions is cumulative and ever increasing.
 
Like refuse that builds up with no method of disposal, the planet and our spirits accumulate the darkness.
 
It’s as if a fog slowly builds and grows... and, it threatens to obscure any illumination that will light our forward path.

 

We all tend to be so caught up in our individual dramas that no one even realizes that the stage itself might collapse.
 
That, in an instant, all of our strutting and fretting can be snuffed out as easily as the flame of a small match in a cold, wet wind.
 
That all of our advances and dreams and machinations could go the way of the dinosaurs, and all that would be left would be fossilized records covered over by dust and sand and time.

 

Sometimes, the only thing that brings the proper contrast to life is death.
 
The only thing that will make us appreciate the unbelievable is the believable.
 
A looming, silent eventuality that casts a shadow over all that we have and will ever hope to have.
 
And, such an eventuality was on its way.
 

 

The destroyer of life.

 

The killer of dreams.

 

FYI-616-B.

 
 

*****

 
 

News leaked out about the changes that had occurred in the path of the asteroid.
 
Concern began to grow, and people became more and more aware that the chances of an impact were increased and indeed tilting towards probable.
 
It slowly dawned on everyone that the rock that had been the subject of comedy skits, naysayers and sitcoms for over three years was actually a problem.
 
A great, big problem.
 
Governments did their best, during those days, to assure their people that things were under control, and that panic was uncalled for.
 

 

There was a minor exodus, of sorts, to the interior of continents.
 
Those that could afford it bought real estate in the mountains and built basement shelters.
 
Land values in those regions skyrocketed in a matter of months.
 
Food shortages spread as stockpiling became common place.
 
Rationing was instituted, and laws were quickly passed to try and limit such behavior.
 
A Black Market for food, consumables and ammunition sprang up, and fortunes were made as goods were traded.

 

Wild swings in currency valuations took place, and gold and silver prices went through the roof.
 

 
 

*****

 
 

Talk shows and newspapers lamented how unprepared nations were to defend against such threats, and demands were made to hurriedly put up an atomic response to the monster… a response like in the movie most everyone had seen years before.

 

But, life isn’t a movie, and such a response would involve planning and time.
 
A shaped charge drilled into the core of the iron and nickel would be the only viable option, and that would have been impossible to effect in such a short while with the available technology.
 
Still, a Chinese missile was fitted with a warhead and launched… much to the dismay of all involved, it went the way of the Russian mission a year, before… out into space with all guidance systems malfunctioning.

 

As far as most people knew, four attempts had been made and four failures had ensued.
 
The bad luck surrounding the asteroid was taken to be an omen, and a collective hush fell over humanity’s optimism.

 

Days turned into weeks, and in a few short months, the appointed time was drawing near.
 
Two more attempts at putting nuclear payloads aloft were made… this time by the
United States
.
 
Both ended in failure.
 
One on the launch pad, and another inexplicably missing its mark and exploding uneventfully a kilometer off its target.

 

After the unsuccessful missions, a resigned calm in international tensions seemed to spread like oil on water.
 
Even hotspots in the Middle East, Africa and
Asia
began to cool as the asteroid zeroed in like a gigantic, destructive homing pigeon.
 

 

A few days out, amateur astronomers could discern the asteroid in the blackness around it.
 
There was a brightness and reflectivity that was most pronounced… almost like part of the surface was covered with a layer of diamonds.

 

Predictions had the rock doing everything from a direct impact, to breaking apart and burning up in the atmosphere, to skipping off the air and burying itself in the moon.
 
Church attendance soared.
 
So did alcohol consumption.
 
As time grew short, two main themes seemed to emerge…

 

Praying and partying.

 

 

 

*****

 

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