Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (21 page)

It was going to take more than words to move that asteroid… that was one thing I was sure of.
 
It was going to take lots and lots of money.
 
Money that could be converted into paint, magnetic Mylar and ions.

Or maybe an atomic bomb.

That was
Russia
’s plan.
 
I knew this because Mia and I kept tabs on our foreign partners.
 
Not many people were in the loop about the bomb, because the Muscovites kept it under wraps.
 
The official story was that they were planning on slamming a payload into the rock at a high rate of speed and hopefully affect the asteroid’s spin and trajectory in that manner.
 
That was
India
’s plan, also… just an inertial slam.
 
The subcontinent was going to launch after the Russians, and calculate the best angle and speed to make an additional impact so as to add to any movement of the rock.

What the Indians, or anyone else, for that matter, didn’t know was that in the tip of the Russian rocket was a bunker buster type warhead designed to bury into the crust of the asteroid before detonating.
 
The danger of such a technique is that it might just fracture the body into several large pieces that continue on with pretty much the same trajectory as when they were one solid piece.
 
Especially if the asteroid was a collection of rocks held together by gravity to begin with.
 
A lot of them are, and FYI-616-B had some of that going on.
 
The force of a blast wouldn’t be concentrated, in such a case, and the majority of the loose conglomeration of material would just mostly reform and keep on trucking along the original path.
 
Explosive action could actually increase the odds of one or more large portions of the collection striking the Earth.
 
That’s why you use a shotgun when shooting skeet, and not a rifle.
 
Greater chance of hitting your target.

*****

I checked the futures and tried to calculate the odds of an explosion’s success, but I didn’t have much luck with my prognosticating.
 
That’s the problem with the multi-verse…

It’s multi.

From what I could tell, an atomic bomb was probably not the way to go.
 
The futures I observed from Ray’s methods seemed to have the edge… at least by a little bit.
 
And, it depended on the when and where the three techniques of his were applied.

Nothing’s ever simple.
 
If something can go wrong, it usually will.

I think it’s time Murphy’s Law became a constitutional amendment.

*****

As the launch date neared for Ray’s vehicle, debate swirled around the wisdom of tampering with the trajectory of a potential problem that was over three years from possibly coming to fruition.
 
Scientists still disagreed with the odds of impact versus just a close fly-by.
 
Not long before, a fairly large asteroid had actually skimmed in between the Earth and the moon, and then went on its merry way towards the sun to continue its elliptical orbit through our solar system.
 
Many figured the next one would do the same.

That earlier rock wasn’t nearly the size of FYI-616-B… maybe that’s why it wasn’t detected until a few months before it passed.

*****

Some religious groups insisted that prayer was the way to go, and that Man shouldn’t interfere physically with God’s plans.
 
Much was made, in some circles, about the numerals in the name of the rock… 616 is in the Bible as a possible number for the mark of the beast.
 
The one with which people wouldn’t be able to buy or sell anything without having it imprinted on their hand or forehead.
 
I wasn’t sure how they felt that the number would get imprinted into the hands or foreheads of people like it’s described in Revelations… unless slamming into the Earth counted as imprinting... but, it was concerning to them, nonetheless.
 
Anyway, I didn’t think there would be much buying or selling after such an impact, in any case.
 

Oh, well… at least it got a lot of people to thinking about mortality and religion.

*****

Most people were divided into three camps… those that wanted the mission to go forward, those that wanted it delayed or stopped, and those that just didn’t care.
 
The third group seemed more pre-occupied with the latest developments in computer games, cell phone apps and celebrity fashion.

The government, as usual, wanted more time to study the problem.
 

Ray made several trips to
Washington
, explaining to all who would listen that time was running out.
 
He told them that there was a specific launch window which would allow his vehicle to intercept the asteroid with enough distance between it and the Earth to allow for perturbation of its course.
 

It was pointed out to Ray that, according to scientists on the government payroll, there was a second launch window a year, later.
 
Mr. Bradford tried to explain to the government officials that launching in that time frame wouldn’t give his systems enough time or distance to work their magic on the spinning rock.
 
That the further out miniscule forces could be applied, the greater the effect on the path of the iron-laden mass.
 

Several on the congressional oversight committee believed that the Russians and the Indians should be given first crack at the rock, as their programs weren’t nearly as complicated and would most probably be ready to go at the same time.
 
Then, they argued, Ray’s approach could be used as a back up to further alter the course of the asteroid.

Of course, thanks to Giddeon, Ray knew what the Russian ship would be carrying as a payload, but he couldn’t disclose that at the time.
 
Ray also knew that even with identical launch times, his craft would arrive several months earlier than either of the other two rockets, because his was much faster.
 
That would give him time to get to work on changing the object’s trajectory so that even if the nuclear blast fragmented the iron body into several deadly pieces, they would be more likely to miss the Earth.

*****

After much consternation and gnashing of teeth, there came a Presidential Order.
 

Ray was to cease preparations for his scheduled launch, and ready his mission for the following window.
 

This caused quite a stir in the media and the population at large.
 
Ray, of course, did not comply, and his scientists resolutely went about their business of readying their rocket.
 

*****

Of course, this did not sit very well with the powers that be.
 

Federal officials went to
Texas
to deliver the order in person.
 
They were politely shown the door.
 
News of the impudence by the billionaire and his team spread like wildfire through Twitter, Facebook and other social media.
 
The one road leading into the land owned by Ray became jammed with news vans and crowds of people… mostly supporters of the project.

The government tried to appear reasonable and summoned the entrepreneur and several of his engineers to
Washington
so they could discuss the situation.
 
They refused to go.
 
More and more support began to swell around Ray’s fenced facility.
 
An ‘Occupy the Asteroid’ movement began, and tents and temporary dwellings popped up all around the periphery of Ray’s enterprise in
West Texas
.
 
The air became quite festive, and the David and Goliath scenario soon caught the whole world’s attention.
 

Only, in this case, David’s rock was a 5.4 mile wide asteroid.

ATF agents were finally given the go ahead to arrest Raymond Bradford.

*****

An armada of government vehicles made its way from
El Paso
to the launch site.
 
The intention of those within the caravan was to arrest Raymond and any scientists not complying with the Federal Order.
 

They didn’t expect what would greet them at the gate.

A mass of people blocking the entrance.
 
Hand in hand, hundreds of human beings formed a living barrier in front of the vans.
 
The agents spoke on their loudspeakers and ordered the crowd to disperse, but the protesters had no intention of doing so.
 
The crowd had loudspeakers of their own, and from them came a familiar tune which drowned out the orders of the government agents.
 
Rowdy citizens began to dance and sing to the fast-paced tune.

Elvis Presley’s ‘
Jailhouse Rock
’.
 

Let me tell you, that scene went viral instantaneously.
 

There was an Elvis impersonator, complete with the black and white wardrobe of The King from out of the movie, and he had the moves down cold.
 
The agents were so amused by his perfect rendition that they waited for the number to end before taking him into custody.
 

Still, the people wouldn’t move.

Not wanting to use force with so many cameras capturing their every move, the agents pleaded with the protestors… to no avail.
 
The F.B.I. captain spent quite a bit of time on the telephone with his headquarters, and they seemed to be at a serious loss as to a course of action.
 

All the while, more songs blared from
Occupy the Asteroid’s
sound system.

Rock of Ages.

We Built This City on Rock and Roll.

Rocking the Night Away.

Rock Around the Clock

Rock This Town

And, last, but not least… ‘
We Will Rock You
’ by Queen.
 
That one became an anthem, of sorts, for the movement.

After two hours of indecision, the ATF agents climbed into their vehicles, released Elvis, shut their doors, and left in a crowd of dust to the cheers of hundreds of people.
 
‘
We Will Rock You
’ played over and over, late into the night.

*****

Two days later, the ATF agents returned, this time with back-up.
 
National Guard troops had been called away from border duty.
 
A group of
Humvees
followed the ATF vans and the whole procession of thirty vehicles came to a stop next to ABC, NBC, CBS and FOX News satellite trucks.

But those weren’t the only trucks that were there.
 

Dozens and dozens of pick-up trucks from locals, and, also, out-of-state people.
 
Maybe a hundred or more.
 
And, most of them had gun-racks in their rear windows… along with guns, I might add.
 
A gathering of young and middle-aged men, along with a scattering of women, stood there on the road with an impressive collection of firepower.
 
Holsters on hips filled with revolvers and semi-automatics.
 
Rifles at their sides.
 
The right to keep and bear arms was on full display.

It was
Texas
, after all.

As you can imagine, the air was electric.
 
The ‘Occupy the Asteroid’ crowd was off to either side of the armed civilians, presumably so they wouldn’t be in the line of fire should anything like that be unfortunate enough to occur.

The Guard troops were obviously nervous, as were the ATF agents.
 
They had anticipated more of the hand-holding peacenik type confrontation and were prepared to use pepper-spray and crowd control techniques to gain entrance onto the private space exploration estate.
 
Armed citizens were not really part of the envisioned scenario, although if the government had been paying attention to text-messaging and Twitter, there were enough calls out for such reinforcements.
 
The impromptu militia had begun arriving the night before.

As the Federal forces remained at their stations, more pick-up trucks began arriving to their rear.
 

Before long, maybe 300 vehicles had surrounded the small squad of government employees.
 
They were obviously outgunned, and any sensible commander would have ordered his men to put away their weapons.

Testosterone and pride sometimes have the effect of lowering available I.Q., and that appeared to be the case with the ATF Captain as he did not give that order.
 
He and his reluctant men began to advance in the direction of the gate, guns at the ready, but held to the sky.
 

The sound of hundreds of safeties being clicked off simultaneously had an eerie resonance to it, and the men behind their commander all ground to a halt.
 
Sweat could be seen running down the sides of the leader’s blanched face, and he held his hand up and spoke to the crowd… the crowd with their guns leveled at his feet.
 
The news vans were recording the confrontation in high definition, and it was being broadcast around the world for all to see.
 

“I’m here on the orders of the President of the
United States of America
,” said the captain.
 
“Raymond Bradford is to be arrested and detained for conducting activities deemed by Homeland Security to be a clear and present danger to our country.”

An older man, with silver hair and an air of authority stepped forward from the crowd.
 
He had an AR-15 at his side, pointed at the dirt.

“I’m Colonel Jim Brennan… Army Special Forces for 22 years.
 
Me, and my friends, here, disagree with the assessment of Homeland Security.”

“This isn’t the way you go about disagreeing.”

“Seems to me it is.
 
You brought along weapons and troops.
 
What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

The two stared each other down for a few seconds.

“I’m not a goose,” said the ATF leader.

A wry grin loosened the craggy face of Colonel Brennan.
 
“You’re probably right… a goose at least knows when it’s in danger of being cooked.”

Watching it back on television, it seemed like it was all that the captain could do to keep himself from taking a swing at the colonel.
 
Fortunately, he didn’t, and they were distracted by the approach of a vehicle coming from the direction of the launch area, flashers flashing and horn blowing.

All eyes were on Raymond Bradford as he stepped out of his Range Rover.
 
Jimmy Buffet’s
Margaritaville
could briefly be heard blasting through his open door as he thumbed off the engine with a remote on his keypad.
 
Long and lanky, he made his way through the crowd with his unkempt hair swirling in the warm breeze.
 
Cowboy boots, jeans, polarized sunglasses and a gaudy Hawaiian shirt graced his frame.
 
The strap of a black bag was thrown over his shoulder.

“Ah… I see my ride’s here.
 
You guys got anything to eat in those vans?
 
I’m starving.”

He walked on past the troops to the lead vehicle and had himself a seat.

Shotgun.

*****