Skyfall

27

GET 14:21

It was almost seven-thirty in the evening in Washington. The government offices were empty as well as the streets, and all the workers were home with the air conditioning turned up full. Electricity consumption was at its usual evening high as all the stoves came on, and the television sets. They were all on this night, every TV, almost all tuned to the continuous coverage of the disaster in England. Only one channel, in the middle of an important series game, did not join in the coverage for fear the baseball fans would burn down the station as they had once before when a technical failure had blacked out the last, scoring, inning of a drawn game. But only the real diehards were watching the game. There was more action in England.

In the White House the cabinet meeting still continued. Two and a half hours now and no sign of it ending. Bandin had talked briefly with the Soviet Premier but it had resolved nothing. Polyarni was holding his cards very close to his chest and saying little. He and his advisers were still formulating policy, or rearranging the facts for presentation in the proper order, or looking for ways to make sure their American partners shared in the present Prometheus failure. Until they decided just how to go about it they were being a little hard to talk to.

The American cabinet was considering the same thing, only from the opposite direction.

“We can't leave the Soviets with complete responsibility for this,” Simon Dillwater insisted.

“Why not?” Dr. Schlochter asked. “This is a political matter now, not a technical one, so the State Department has ultimate responsibility. They are our partners, yes, but this disaster is their responsibility and we must be sure that we are not hung with them for the crime. Statecraft, as the great Metternich said, is the art…”

“Balls to Metternich,” General Bannerman said, savagely biting the end of his cigar and spitting the piece onto the floor. “You drag out your Kraut and I'll drag out mine, and I'll give you a quote every time from Clausewitz that tops your guy. We are just going to forget the diplomacy and cold war bit this once and stay in the barrel with the Russkies. It's our joint project. If we kick them in the ass now they take their marbles and go home. Prometheus is not going to get up there without their Lenin-5 boosters. Do you agree, Mr. President?”

General Bannerman was an old hand at this kind of gamesmanship, which is why he was Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff instead of still riding herd on a combat division. Schlochter had had his mouth open ready to speak when he had passed the buck to Bandin, so now all Schlochter could do was shut his trap and turn even redder. Bannerman liked the Secretary of State; he was so easy to needle. Wouldn't have lasted a day in the Army.

“I have to agree,” Bandin said. “No official releases from any department about this being a Soviet booster. This is a tragedy of the space age, it's not the first sacrifice for the betterment of mankind, nothing but an unavoidable accident like being hit by a truck crossing the road. And we offer the British plenty of aid. And that includes plenty of money. They're dead broke and they'll appreciate it.”

“Call from Mission Control in Houston, Mr. President,” Charley Dragoni said.

“Put it on the speaker phone.”

“You may go ahead, the President is on the line.”

“This is Mission Control, Mr. President. There have been developments on Prometheus which I would like to report to you and Mr. Dillwater.” The voice rattled from the loudspeaker on the table, clearly audible to everyone in the room.

“He's here with me, Flax. What is it?”

“It is the fission engine on Prometheus. The trouble has been localized. There has been shroud damage to the thrust chamber and engine four is inoperable. Possibility of restoring function is zero.”

“What, what?” Bandin said. “Dillwater — what's that gobble degook? What the hell is he saying?”

“The shroud, that's the metal covering over the nuclear engines that protects them during takeoff. It shifted, probably when the core body failed to separate, and damaged one of the engines. It is broken beyond repair and cannot be fixed.”

“Are you telling me that Prometheus is stuck up there too, and in trouble — like that piece of junk that took out the British town?”

“I don't think the situation is that bad yet, sir. The four other engines appear to be undamaged. May I talk to Flax?” Bandin nodded. “Hello, Mission Control. What is being done about bypassing the damaged engine in order to use the other four?”

“The computer is working on a program for that right now. We will inform you as soon as a solution has been found.”

“Will it be possible? in the time remaining?”

“It is the only chance. One moment please…” There was a mutter of voices at the other end then Flax came back on the line. “We have a request from Prometheus. They wish to talk to you.”

“I'll have this call transferred to another phone.”

“Put it through here,” Bandin said.

“I didn't want to bother you, Mr. President….”

“Bother! This is the only business on our agenda until that thing is up where it should be. Put them through, Flax.”

“Yes, sir.”

There were electronic sputterings and clicks while the patch was made from radio to telephone. This took a few moments, then Flax gave his okay.

“Prometheus, you are through to Director Dillwater who is with the President at this moment. Over.”

“Mr. Dillwater, Mr. President. Major Winter on Prometheus here.”

“Go ahead, Patrick,” Dillwater said.

“You know about our difficulties with the nuclear engines?”

“We do.”

“Well we have been looking at the figures and we appear to have a problem. It seems that we are running out of time.”

“What do you mean?”

“With the core body gone, the changed mass gives us approximately twenty-eight hours before this orbit decays and we contact the atmosphere. There have been no changes in that estimate. Taking into consideration the amount of time to get the nuclear engine operational we may have a time overrun. We just may not be able to get thrust in time to lift out of this orbit. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then I would like to respectfully ask what plans you have to take the crew off Prometheus before atmospheric impact?”

“Crew — why, none. We had not considered the possibility.”

“Well I hope you are considering it now.” There was an edge to Patrick's voice that had not been there earlier.

“Of course, yes. But you know that your relief space-shuttle is not due to take off until a month from now. It takes at least six days to get it on the pad.”

“I know that. But I am thinking of the Soviets. Do they have a shuttle operational that might make orbital rendezvous? Or maybe the Air Force? They have been doing shuttle work with the fast turnaround time. Do they have one operational right now?”

“I do not know. But General Bannerman is present and I will ask him.” He glanced over at Bannerman and raised his eyebrows.

“Negative,” Bannerman said, his face expressionless. “There'll be a shuttle coming on line in a few days. It cannot be launched in the ten hours left.”

“Did you hear that, Prometheus?”

“Yes. But we still want to know the situation with the Soviets. Please report soonest. “

“We will do that, Prometheus. Just a moment, the President would like to speak with you.”

“This is your President, Major Winter. I just wanted to say that our hearts are with you and your crew at all times. The utmost priority is being given to the safety and success of Prometheus, and of course your persona! safety. Be assured that no task will be left undone, no stone unturned in our efforts to assure your safety and success.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. Out. “

“That kid is kind of snappy,” Grodzinski said. “He oughta watch his mouth.”

“They are under a certain amount of tension up there,” Bannerman said.

“Still…”

“Shut up, Grodzinski,” Bandin said. “We've a problem on our hands. We've got to think of those people up there. We've also got to think of the million tons or whatever of US hardware they are riding around in. Dillwater, if they can't be helped, what happens in twenty-eight hours?”

“Prometheus will impact the atmosphere.” He took off his glasses and pinched the sore bridge of his nose while he spoke. “What happens after that, well we cannot be sure. Something the size of Prometheus has never been in this situation before. She might break up and burn, or she might hold together and impact the Earth's surface.”

“Are you telling me there could be a second crash? Like the first one?”

“I am very unhappy to tell you, Mr. President, that it might be much worse than the first one. Not only does Prometheus weigh much more, but it still has its fuel for the fission engines. About five hundred pounds of radioactive uranium pellets. It is doubtful if these would explode on impact….”

“They wouldn't have to explode,” Bannerman said. “They would burn, melt, be diffused as radioactive gas. Wouldn't that be a nice thing to land in our back yard.”

“Our back yard, anyone's back yard. Depending where it was in orbit at the time it could strike most anywhere in a large section of the globe.”

“I don't understand that,” the President said.

“It has to do with the rotation of the Earth, sir. Prometheus goes around the Earth once every eighty-eight minutes in a roughly oval orbit. But while it's doing that the Earth is rotating, moving under the orbit. So with every circle of the Earth the satellite passes over different places on the surface below. At one point, unhappily, the orbit passed over Britain as we now know and regret.”

Bandin had a sudden thought. “Has anyone bothered to work out where the orbit will be at the end of the twenty-eight hours when that thing is supposed to come down?”

“Yes, sir. It has been done.” Dillwater put a slip of paper on the table before him. “The orbit will be swinging down from the north Pacific at that time, cutting across the Gulf of Alaska at that time.”

“That's good,” Bandin said. “We're not going to worry about icebergs and some polar bears.”

“No, sir. But this orbit, the twenty-eighth orbit continues south in a track along the entire west coast of this country. Going over in turn Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego.”

In a stunned silence the enormity of what he had said slowly sank in.