Asteroid Discovery Read online

  The News-Reporter

  Washington, Georgia

  Jackie Holcomb raced out of Nate’s cabin with the deceased young man’s MacBook tucked under her arm. She nervously surveyed the DAV to see if any residents were stirring at that early hour. The majority of the lots sold within the planned unit development were to researchers who lived throughout the southeast, but there were at least a dozen full-time residents living in cabins and RVs alike. For the most part, her fellow astronomers were late sleepers because they were night owls by nature.

  Jackie was a longtime resident of nearby Washington, Georgia, where she grew up as a child before going to college at the University of Georgia in Athens, about an hour away. Like most kids in Wilkes County who didn’t see any career opportunities in the area, Jackie had set out to find a better life in larger metropolitan areas like Atlanta and Charlotte. Eventually, however, the adventurous kids of Washington returned to their familiar, more laid-back stomping grounds.

  One of Jackie’s best friends growing up was Sparky Newsome, a fixture in Washington-Wilkes, a common way of referring to the residents of Washington and Wilkes County, whose population hovered around ten thousand. The Newsome family had owned the local newspaper—the News-Reporter—for over six decades.

  Sparky had been born into the newspaper business and spent his days as a kid napping on the stacks of virgin newsprint that were delivered in sheets, not rolls. A good student as a child, he was destined to be a writer but fell in love with the mechanical side of the newspaper business. His parents encouraged him to publish articles, and in an attempt to please them, he obliged. But his real passion was bringing the stories to print.

  The News-Reporter, now a weekly publication in both print and digital editions, had been founded in 1896. The longevity of the newspaper befitted a town where time stood still. Fortunate to be bypassed by Union General William Tecumseh Sherman’s pillaging rampage across Georgia from Atlanta to Savannah, the Washington community boasted more antebellum homes still standing than any city of its size in the state.

  As she drove up Lundberg Road, more tears came to her eyes as she followed the same fateful stretch of backcountry highway that Nate Phillips and his friends had driven until their deaths. The bridge across Reedy Creek had reopened, although the right side of the highway was clearly cordoned off with POLICE: DO NOT CROSS caution tape.

  Her mind had wandered so much during the drive to Washington that when she came upon South Alexander Avenue, she could hardly remember driving from Deerlick. She drove slowly as she entered the historic district of Washington, never tiring of the beautiful architecture and the historic nature of the homes.

  On her right was Holly Court, constructed in 1840, known as the last refuge of Varina Davis, the wife of Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy. While President Davis met with members of his cabinet for the last time in the nearby Georgia State Bank Building during the final days of the Civil War, Mrs. Davis was kept safe from Union troops, who were searching for her husband.

  Jackie turned by the post office and parked in front of Rider House, the home of Sparky Newsome and his wife, who operated the newspaper out of the rear portion of their home. The days of the printing press were long gone, and when the Newsomes moved the paper from the twelve-thousand-square-foot facility they’d occupied since the seventies, the computers made the trip and the antiquated printing equipment was dispersed elsewhere.

  Sparky sat in a rocking chair on the front porch of their restored Victorian home beautifully adorned with period architecture and a white picket fence. He noticed Jackie’s approach and bounded down the inlaid-brick entry steps to greet her.

  The two were in frequent contact with one another, as Deerlick advertised in the paper and held events that Sparky was happy to promote. Despite that, Jackie couldn’t hold back her emotions as she provided her old friend an emotional hug, coupled with a few more tears.

  “Jackie, what’s wrong?” Sparky began, pulling away slightly to study her. “Nate was a good kid. It’s a shame, but—”

  “It’s not just about Nate,” she interrupted, looking nervously about. There was little activity at the post office, and the fire department was devoid of activity. It was a typical, sleepy morning in Washington. “I’ve found, um, I mean, Nate may have stumbled upon …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Come on, let’s go inside and talk.” Sparky put his arm around her and led her inside. His wife, Mary, had put on a pot of coffee and laid out a variety of pastries for them to munch on.

  “Hi, Jackie,” Mary greeted her and the two hugged. “You two look like you’ve got some serious stuff to talk about, and I need to make sure the print editions are ready to distribute. I’ll be in the office if you need me, okay?”

  Sparky kissed his wife and thanked her. He led Jackie to a settee that had been in the Newsome family for generations, having been reupholstered due to wear and tear. He took up a seat on a broken-in leather chair across from the spread of pastries served up by his wife.

  “Sparky, I don’t wanna rehash how I came upon this,” she began, tapping the top of the MacBook. “It belongs to Nate and I found it in his cabin while making sure everything was locked up.”

  “Okay,” said Sparky, allowing the word to draw out, as he was unsure where this conversation was going. A teenage boy’s laptop could contain any number of things, some extremely embarrassing to the young man’s family.

  Jackie took a deep breath and regained her composure. She reached for a scone and dipped it into a cup of coffee Sparky had poured for her. She took a bite of the biscuit-like cake, washed it down with the hot, black brew, and began.

  “The night the kids died, they were at Nate’s cabin at the DAV. He, like everyone else who cares about astronomy, was studying Comet Oort as it came into full view for the first time. I know this because his telescope was set toward the sky where the comet’s tail was in full point of view, and he’d set his camera to record.”

  Sparky concentrated as Jackie found the words. He’d learned from a lifetime of being around the newspaper business that you should listen first, question later.

  After catching her breath, she continued. “Anyway, I thought it would be helpful to the police to know when the recording started, as that might determine when he was at DAV last. Sparky, I watched the video. I’m about to show you something that to the untrained eye wouldn’t be seen. Please bear with me as I go through this.”

  Jackie opened up the laptop and started the video file she’d created that played Nate’s recording in real time, supplemented by slow-motion and screenshot images pointing out what she’d found.

  “Do you see what I’ve circled here and then here?” asked Jackie, pointing to the screen.

  Sparky pushed his glasses up on his nose and squinted. He leaned toward the MacBook’s screen and nodded. “I do. Is that part of the comet’s tail? I mean, did it break off or decide to go off on its own?”

  Jackie leaned back against the settee. “No, it’s not part of the comet. It’s something else, and it’s headed right for us.”

  Chapter 14

  Wednesday, April 4

  The News-Reporter

  Washington, Georgia

  “Jackie, I was never a stargazer. Can you help me out here?”

  “Sparky, everyone’s eyes have been focused on Comet Oort. It’s one of the brightest comets in recorded history, and its tail is incredibly long. But here’s what else it’s done despite capturing the attention of the world. The comet, its halo, and the thirty-degree tail have obscured an asteroid, one that is large, fast, and sporting a tail of its own.”

  “Wait, I’m no expert, but I didn’t think that asteroids had tails. I know it’s been a tough couple of days, but are you—?”

  Jackie shook her head violently. “No. No. This is not some emotional breakdown, Sparky. Give me a break. Look at these images. Here, like this enlarged one.”

  She ran her finger across the touchscreen on the MacBook
and swiped through the video until a close-up view of the asteroid appeared.

  “I see what you mean. How do you know it’s big?”

  “Based upon its distance from Earth, I wouldn’t be able to see it if it was under three or four hundred feet across. And there’s more. I’ve done the calculations, Sparky. It’s on a trajectory that could hit Earth.”

  “Calculations? Jackie, you know me. I believe in Joseph Pulitzer’s motto—accuracy, accuracy, accuracy, and thoroughness. If you want me to take this story to—”

  “No, not yet. I mean, I’m not sure what the best thing to do is. That’s why I’m here. I need your advice as a friend, not just a journalist.”

  “Okay, talk to me.”

  “It’s all calculated guesswork right now. There are certain protocols that astronomers are required to follow, namely reaching out to the IAU MPC at the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory.”

  “Good grief, what’s with the letters?”

  “Um, sorry. International Astronomical Union Minor Planet Center.”

  Sparky laughed. “That’s a mouthful.”

  “Well, newsboy, now you see why I used the acronym. MPC is all you need to know for now. The MPC is responsible for the designation of minor bodies in the solar system, like comets, natural satellites, you know, moons, and of course, asteroids.”

  Sparky stood and wandered around his living room. He was trying to digest all of this in order to help his friend. “Jackie, why is this important? Just call them or whatever.”

  “Because, and this is gonna sound callous, selfish, and any other rude names you might wanna call me, but if Comet Oort is a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event, the arrival of this asteroid will be a once-in-a-sixty-million-year event. There’s gonna be a lot of pressure within the scientific community to study this thing, and naturally, they’re gonna attribute this discovery to someone. I have to decide if I give the credit to Nate or take it for myself.”

  Sparky stopped pacing and swung around to Jackie. “Listen, if what you say is true, isn’t that kind of a minor issue at this point. I mean, if it’s half a mile wide or more, it could destroy a city.”

  “No, Sparky. It could destroy more than that. It might destroy us all.”

  “Then you need to tell somebody. Or do you want me to reach out to my news resources?” Sparky paused and then adopted a sarcastic tone. “Obviously, this is too big to put in next Wednesday’s online edition of the paper.”

  Jackie was still all business. “You’re right. This needs to be brought to the attention of the MPC. It would be a fitting tribute to Nate for it to be named after him, but, Sparky, I mean, there is a possibility for some financial gain for me and, you know.”

  “I get it, you wanna protect your ability to become famous while possibly making a few bucks. Listen, when I take this story to a bigger news source, I’ll want to maintain some semblance of control over the information they disseminate. Like you, I want to keep a handle on things in the event there is some notoriety to be had, or financial gain for us.”

  Sparky paused and began to rub his temples with both hands as he tried to mentally process this discovery. He continued.

  “But, Jackie, hours matter, am I right?”

  Jackie nodded and quickly closed the MacBook. “I need to get home and analyze this again to be sure. As soon as I can, I’m going to email you everything I have, and I plan on summarizing the implications of all of this for you. First thing in the morning, I’ll contact the MPC.”

  “Are you going to ask for it to be designated after you or Nate?”

  “Normally, the IAU assigns a number and, if it is a near-Earth object like this one, oftentimes the name is chosen from mythology. It usually isn’t awarded a name until it has been observed long enough to analyze its orbit with precision. Sometimes that takes years.”

  “Years? But you said—”

  “I know. A few weeks, Sparky, at best.”

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday, April 4

  NASA Mission Control

  Johnson Space Center

  Houston, Texas

  The U.S. Commander of the International Space Station checked in with Mission Control’s director, Mark Foster. Foster had been at this post for nearly five years, shepherding the NASA astronauts during a strained but working relationship with the other occupants of the ISS, namely the Russian cosmonauts.

  “Houston, we’ll be taking some time as a crew to download the most recent VPS updates.”

  Foster, who’d been on the floor of the FCR-1 at the time of the tragedy aboard the space station three years ago, was intimately involved in the events and the communications protocols established afterwards. The U.S. commander hadn’t initiated a VPS communiqué in over a year.

  “Roger that, Commander.”

  As if to reiterate the importance of the commander’s message to the team monitoring the ISS on the ground, Foster raced up and down the aisles created between the four rows of computer consoles, making a slicing motion across his neck indicating they should cut off any unnecessary chatter. Foster trusted no one and had his suspicions about the cyber warfare capabilities of Moscow.

  To the Russians and any of the other international space agencies participating in the ISS project, VPS meant voice protocol systems, something that the Russians had initiated and the Americans copied after the extended communications blackout on that fateful day.

  However, to the DOD and NASA, VPS meant vix parvam stillam, a Latin phrase meaning whisper. The DOD, in conjunction with advice from the Central Intelligence Agency, had created a communications system that could not be infiltrated by their Russian counterparts. It required vocal communications over a secured, encrypted communications system and could only be used in quick sixty-second increments to avoid being detected.

  NASA’s ISS personnel had been trained in the importance of keeping this technology away from the Russians in particular and were also schooled in when it was appropriate to utilize the VPS protocols, and how.

  Director Foster raced to his office and settled in behind his desk. He immediately grabbed a pad of paper to begin taking notes. He nervously twirled his pen, awaiting the secured transceiver to buzz to life.

  The commander’s voice was urgent, yet robotic. “Urgent for NEOCam or PanSTARRS. Inbound. Ascension, declination, elongation, and delta to follow. Possible mile-wide asteroid with debris field. Repeat, asteroid with debris field.”

  The commander finished the communication with a series of numbers that represented various measurements provided in astronomical units. An AU is approximately equal to the distance from the Earth to the Sun, or ninety-three million miles. So a distance shown as 1 AU is ninety-three million miles from Earth, and 0.1 AU is a little over nine million miles away.

  Director Foster wrote down the values provided by the commander, and then the final numbers he provided were the nominal distance and the velocity in miles per hour.

  “Nominal distance is zero-point-three-one AU. Projected relative velocity is twenty-seven kilometers per second. Transmission terminated.”

  Although the commander still had fifteen seconds or more to spare, the information he provided was all Director Foster needed for the blood to rush out of his face.

  He scribbled the notes down and then he began to do the math. At first, he thought the commander had provided him the incorrect figure for nominal distance. Then he pulled up the Solar System Dynamics calculator on the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory website. Using all of the variables provided by the commander, he confirmed the nominal distance to be correct.

  “Less than a third of the distance to the Sun,” he muttered. Then he converted the speed to miles per hour in his head and wrote sixty thousand next to the nominal distance figure.

  “My god. Oh, my god.”

  He wrote a number on his notepad and then circled it. As he did, the lead snapped off the end of the pencil.

  “Three weeks, more or less.”

  PART TWO />
  ASTROMETRY

  Identification Number: Unknown

  Right Ascension: 21 hours 18 minutes 12.6 seconds

  Declination: -30 degrees 42 minutes 17 seconds

  Greatest Elongation: 73.0 degrees

  Nominal Distance from Earth: 0.558 Astronomical Units

  Relative Velocity: 28,309 meters per second

  Chapter 16

  Thursday, April 5

  Minor Planet Center

  Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics

  60 Garden Street

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  The MPC was the primary location for receipt and distribution of positional measurements of minor planets; comets; satellites of major planets, such as moons; and asteroids. Located at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics in Cambridge, the MPC maintains the master files containing all observations and orbit computations for these space objects, and once a final analysis had been made, they were solely authorized to announce the discovery to the rest of the world via electronic circulars or its website.

  Madeline Hapwell, the MPC director, had been awakened early that morning by Colonel Robinson with the Department of Defense. He immediately created a conference call with Director Foster of Mission Control at NASA. Hapwell immediately went from sleepy-eyed to eyes wide open as Foster relayed the information he’d received on the secured communication from the ISS. She asked that he send it to her in email format, just to ensure its accuracy.

  After dressing, Hapwell reached out to her associate director, who followed the protocols established for an unusually late discovery of a near-Earth object. On the MPC website, her team kept running tallies of the NEOs, comets, and minor planets discovered on a monthly and yearly basis. By that point in April, there had been nearly eight hundred near-Earth objects discovered, which included asteroids and meteors. Of those eight hundred, nearly three hundred were found within fourteen days of passing by Earth.