Asteroid Discovery Page 2

  Speedy Asteroid buzzed Earth Last Week, One Day Before Being Detected ~ Eddie Irizarry, EarthSky.org, April 1, 2019

  A small asteroid measuring 100 feet wide—now designated as 2019 FC1—flew closer to us than the Moon on March 28, 2019 at forty thousand miles per hour. Astronomers detected it one day later. It’s the largest of 14 asteroids to pass closer to us than the Moon since 2019 began.

  This space rock was almost twice as wide as the asteroid that penetrated the atmosphere over the skies above Chelyabinsk, Russia, on February 15, 2013. For comparison, the Chelyabinsk asteroid was estimated to be 55 feet (17 meters) in diameter, before entering our atmosphere, and generated a blast equivalent to a 300-kiloton nuclear explosion.

  U.S. Announces Huge Meteor Explosion Over Earth, Three Months After it Occurred ~ Paul Rincon, BBC News Space Editor, March 18, 2019

  A huge fireball exploded in the Earth’s atmosphere in December, according to NASA. The blast was the second largest of its kind in 30 years, and the biggest since the fireball over Chelyabinsk in Russia six years ago.

  What’s the significance?

  In 2005, Congress tasked NASA with finding 90% of near-Earth asteroids of 140m (460ft) in size or larger by 2020. Space rocks of this size are so-called problems without passports because they are expected to affect whole regions if they collide with Earth. But scientists estimate it will take them another 30 years to fulfill this congressional directive.

  Epigraph

  “Asteroids have us in their sights. The dinosaurs didn’t have a space program, so they’re not here to talk about this problem. We are, and we have the power to do something about it. I don’t want to be the embarrassment of the galaxy to have had the power to deflect an asteroid, and then not, and end up going extinct.”

  ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson, American Astrophysicist

  *****

  “If the Earth gets hit by an asteroid, it’s game over. It’s control-alt-delete for civilization.”

  ~ Bill Nye, the science guy

  *****

  “The second angel blew his trumpet, and something like a great mountain, burning with fire, was thrown into the sea, and a third of the sea became blood.”

  ~ Revelation 8:8

  *****

  “After great trouble for humanity, a greater one is near.

  The Great Mover renews the ages:

  Rain, blood, milk, famine, steel and plague,

  In the heavens fire seen, a long spark running...”

  ~ Nostradamus, Centuries II, Quatrain 46

  *****

  “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.”

  ~ D. H. Lawrence

  Prologue

  NASA Mission Control Center

  Houston, Texas

  “Houston, did you see that?”

  The words hung in the air of the Mission Control Center at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas, as the flight control communications officer attempted to respond to the question.

  Immediately after the American astronaut aboard the International Space Station uttered the question, all communications between flight control and the ISS ceased.

  It had been a typical day aboard the recently expanded space station, if you can call living aboard a spacecraft orbiting hundreds of miles above the surface of our planet typical.

  By design, an astronaut’s day was fairly regimented. Free time was usually taken up by ordinary tasks related to hygiene and eating. There was time for exercising, and occasionally the crew of the ISS would play board games using specially magnetized features.

  Work consumed most of an astronaut’s day, with some tasks more mundane than others. Unlike the days of old when astronauts were recruited from the ranks of Air Force and Navy fighter pilots, today’s astronauts consisted primarily of scientists and engineers, who spent their days performing experiments or testing the effects of weightlessness on various ordinary daily activities.

  The ISS was a large orbiting experiment designed to prepare future astronauts to travel greater distances and establish a foothold on other celestial bodies.

  On this day, there was nothing out of the ordinary as it related to the day’s scheduled activities. There were no planned spacewalks. There were no scheduled arrivals or departures via the Russian and French space shuttles. Each of the members of the international team manning the ISS went about their business.

  Then the communications failed. The last transmission received was those simple words, Houston, did you see that? Yet nobody on the ground had any inkling of what they referred to.

  The mostly American and Russian crew were amiable with one another, but a cold war chill had strained relations between the two nations in recent years. Because of budgetary concerns, NASA had reduced the number of its direct missions to the ISS, opting instead to send its astronauts to the space station via French and Russian shuttles.

  As a result, the mechanical and technological operations of the ISS had been turned over primarily to the Russians, who continued to lead the charge in terms of space exploration and advancement.

  Mark Foster, the director of Flight Control Room One, designated FCR-1, paced the floor nervously as he cajoled his engineering team to find a solution for the communications breakdown. Mission Control workers were divided by those in charge of flight control and ground-team workers. Most were trained to work interchangeably, filling in as needed or, in the present case, assisting in solving a critical failure.

  Communications with the ISS had been interrupted in the past, most notably in 2013 for a period of three hours when trouble encountered during a computer software upload prompted a loss of contact.

  On that occasion, ISS station skipper Caleb Faust rebooted the onboard, US-designed computer system, clearing the problem after a three-hour cessation of communications and command capability. During a pass over Russian ground stations, Faust was able to report in to Mission Control and assuage their concerns.

  However, the Russians were none too happy with the communications blackout. Not because the software caused the glitch, but because Mission Control did not keep them abreast of the situation. After the incident, the Russians insisted upon installing their own redundant communications systems that were directed to their version of Mission Control in Kazakhstan.

  Mission Control Director Foster immediately ordered his Defense Department liaison to reach out to the Moscow government and advise them of the situation. Maxwell Robinson, an Army colonel, was the Defense Department’s man on the ground at NASA. He stayed in direct communication with the Pentagon, a necessity that arose out of the 2013 incident.

  Per protocols, he contacted his team at the Pentagon, who arranged for a secured line to his counterpart in Moscow. The line, of course, was monitored by the Central Intelligence Agency. The Cold War was alive and well, with suspicions running rampant in all aspects of international relations, especially with Russia.

  Once the call was made and a connection was established, the Russians equivocated in their response. They provided Robinson the functional equivalent of “we’ll get back to you later” and then disconnected the communication.

  This both infuriated and puzzled Robinson, who immediately ordered his diplomatic team at the Pentagon to reopen the lines of communication. Two hours later, he was patched through, this time to an unidentified Russian official.

  He advised Robinson that their contact with the Russian cosmonauts had also been lost, but they were working diligently to source the problem.

  Nine hours later, communications were restored, and those NASA personnel in Mission Control who’d worked tirelessly to solve the problem let out a spontaneous, genuine cheer.

  That response became muted when the Russian commander of the ISS announced that NASA had lost one of its own.

  PART ONE

  Three years later …

  Sunday, April 1

  ASTROMETRY

  Identification Number: Unknown

  Right Ascension: 19 hours 02 mi
nutes 54.4 seconds

  Declination: -34 degrees 11 minutes 39 seconds

  Greatest Elongation: 78.0 degrees

  Nominal Distance from Earth: 0.41 Astronomical Units

  Relative Velocity: 26,822 meters per second

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  Sunday, April 1

  Eglin Air Force Base Test Range

  Off the coast of the Florida Panhandle

  Non semper ea sunt quae videntur.

  The motto for the 486th Flight Test Squadron was etched across the outside of the hangar on a remote runway within the four hundred sixty thousand acres that made up Eglin Air Force Base, the largest Air Force installation in the free world.

  The squadron’s adage, translated as not always what they seem, produced a rare smile on the tanned face of Major Gunner Fox as he made the solitary trek across the tarmac. Nothing ever is, he thought to himself.

  A warm gust of wind blew across the runway, carrying sand particles past him. Instinctively, he looked to the sky and then toward the orange-and-white windsocks to get a feel for the wind’s velocity and direction. In a world full of advanced technology, as was evidenced by the sleek and technologically advanced aircraft that awaited him, it was still the cone-shaped textile tube that provided pilots a feel for the atmosphere they were about to enter.

  Up ahead, a team of squires, as Gunner called them, awaited his arrival. It was quiet on the base, as Sunday was generally a day off for support personnel. Not so for the airmen who’d prepared the gear necessary for his test flight. This was also a rare weekend encounter with the suits, civilian project engineers and technicians, who each held the twenty-first century’s equivalent of a clipboard—the iPad.

  Gunner had lived his entire life on an Air Force Base, or within the service of the branch of the military that ruled the skies, and now space. His father had been an airman, just as his father before him. It was the only life Gunner knew, and now, it was all he had.

  “Good morning, Major Fox,” one of the civilian scientists greeted him heartily. Gunner nodded, but ignored his greeting, opting instead to salute and acknowledge the Air Force technical team who’d ensured that he was properly suited up for the test flight.

  Gunner stopped to examine his ride. It was just after six in the morning, and the sun was making its way over the horizon. As it got brighter, the reflection revealed the sleek lines of the jet fighter before him.

  The F/A XX.

  This bird was the redesigned sixth-generation fighter designed to fly alongside the aging fleet of F-35 Lightnings that had been a staple of America’s multirole military jets. In recent decades, the Navy had undertaken the role of advancing the nation’s air-attack capabilities with their Next-Generation Air Dominance program.

  The program had bogged down in congressional budget squabbling and technical mishaps before being taken over by the Air Force a few years ago. When the switch was made, and Gunner was recruited as a test pilot, he quipped that the Navy should stick to the seas and leave the flying to us, borrowing a marketing phrase from a now-defunct commercial airline.

  Gunner walked around the jet, which was more spacecraft than it was airplane. As he walked, the civilian representative of Boeing attempted to chat him up, excitedly extolling the virtues of the F/A XX.

  “This will truly be our key to next-generation air dominance,” he began, stealing the phrase from the Navy in the process. “An air-superior fighter with multirole capabilities. It has maximum sensor connectivity, allowing the most technically advanced interaction between the aircraft, the ground, and even orbiting satellites. Anything you can imagine needing in a battlefield scenario, the F/A XX can provide you.”

  Gunner glanced back at the young man and scowled. The civilian sounded more like a car salesman than an engineer. Gunner’s glare did nothing to dissuade the Boeing representative from continuing his sales pitch.

  “The unique design of the wing makes the F/A XX lighter and more energy efficient. Instead of relying upon movable surfaces such as ailerons to control the roll and pitch of the aircraft, as conventional wings do, the new smart skin technology makes it possible to deform the whole wing, or parts of it, using artificial intelligence to maneuver quicker and more efficiently. Really, it’s the AI that make the F/A XX so special. In a way, it could fly itself.”

  Gunner abruptly stopped and turned to address the man for the first time. “Then why don’t you?”

  “Um, what?”

  “Why don’t you let it fly itself?” Gunner bristled. He’d heard enough of the sales pitch. “You don’t need me.”

  Gunner began to walk toward the hangar. Confused, the Boeing representative looked around for help as the rest of the team stood stoically at the portable stairwell that patiently awaited its pilot. Another gust of wind caused the F/A XX to wiggle slightly, as if it were emitting a chuckle.

  “Major. Major!” The young man panicked as he scurried to catch up with Gunner. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir. I was simply pointing out the technologically advanced features of this magnificent aircraft. I mean, naturally, a pilot is best—”

  Gunner stopped and smirked. He’d tortured the guy enough. Of course he was going to fly the plane. In fact, he was dying to.

  Chapter 2

  Sunday, April 1

  Eglin Air Force Base Test Range

  Off the coast of the Florida Panhandle

  Gunner, with the assistance of the Eglin team, got situated in the cockpit of the F/A XX fighter. His six foot, two-hundred-pound frame was perfectly ordinary by fighter pilot standards, but Gunner was anything but ordinary when he was flying. Flying at supersonic speeds in the world’s most advanced aircraft took more than superior physicality, it required a mental acuity that very few possessed. There was very little margin for error when in combat, and Gunner had an extraordinary keenness of thought and vision, making him one of the best fighter pilots in the U.S. Air Force.

  He’d spent countless hours in the Boeing simulator taking the bird through its paces in a virtual-reality world. Flight simulation and real-world flying were markedly different scenarios, especially with the planned maneuvers he had in mind. Gunner had flown countless missions in a variety of military aircraft. Only a pilot of his experience knew what to expect in the air, not a scientist.

  “Major Fox, I’ve been told to remind you that—” began one of the airmen before Gunner cut him off.

  “I know. I know. Follow the protocols discussed in preflight. Bring the plane back in one piece. Keep in constant communication. Blah, blah, blah.” Gunner’s demeanor and level of amiability were always at a different level when he dealt with airmen. They, like him, had a job to do. If this airman had been told to give Gunner a lecture, it was because of what had happened in the past, not because what they expected to happen today.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” the airman apologized unnecessarily.

  Gunner chuckled. “Have you ever noticed that they never order me to come back alive?”

  The young man didn’t know how to respond, not that Gunner expected him to.

  The Eglin team took Gunner through his final preflight checks, and the group exchanged the traditional thumbs-up. Finally, the tarmac was cleared and Gunner was left alone with his steed, a powerful, shiny toy that was arguably the most technologically advanced aircraft in the world.

  He glanced toward the sky, and the sun was now in full view to the east. He wondered who was watching. God? Russian reconnaissance? Someone else?

  A shiver came across his body as he studied the cockpit. He glanced to his right and left, marveling at the technology that made this aircraft capable of making faster and wilder maneuvers than ever thought possible. Her agility required multiple onboard computers, the so-called artificial intelligence, to be as responsive as Gunner wanted her to be.

  Gunner was ready, and within minutes, he was wings up, soaring high above the Gulf of Mexico. The scramjet technology enabled the aircraft to cruise at superson
ic speeds without the need of an afterburner. The smart skin was everything Boeing billed it to be. The sensors and electronics integrated into the fuselage were responsive, and the reduced drag markedly increased the speed and maneuverability.

  For the first twenty minutes, Gunner and the F/A XX got acquainted with one another. He followed the script, so to speak, working with those on the ground to run the aircraft through the preplanned maneuvers.

  Gunner knew this aircraft was designed to compete with Chinese and Russian technology. In the past several years, proxy wars were being fought around the world. Syria, Iran, and most recently Venezuela were all hotbeds of military activity as the Russians and Americans squared off in a new cold war era. To complicate matters further, the Chinese took advantage of America’s preoccupation with the Russians to make further inroads into the South China Sea.

  The Air Force and Navy would need the finest technology in its aircraft to compete with China’s J-20 and the Russian Su-35S. Gunner had flown sorties that engaged both of these aircraft, and he’d become concerned about the F-35’s ability to hold its own. Therefore, he hoped this new design was the answer.

  “Major, we believe we’ve got everything we need today.” A civilian voice came across the comms.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” replied Gunner in a monotone voice. Gunner had piloted an F-22 Raptor on a mission in which he chased a Chinese Chengdu J-20 out of protected airspace near the Philippines. In his debriefing, he’d lamented that the J-20’s airframe gave it a much higher speed and operational altitude than the F-22. The pilot of the J-20 on that day was able to climb to an altitude that no American aircraft could achieve.