Nasa´s Amateur Asteroid Watch (NAAW)
California
"Why can’t this damn coffee machine ever work?" Mark mumbled silently and hit the side of the machine. But once again a dirty, semi-transparent liquid poured into the mug.
Nasa invest billions of Unitas in various projects, but to acquire a working coffee machine, is in some way too much to ask for, he thought and went empty-handed back to his office.
Just outside his door, Samantha and Steven were talking happily, but they quieted as he approached. He nodded at them as he mumbled a "hello" and then closed the door behind him.
Do they think I’m an imbecile? Everyone understands that they have something going on. Make it official and behave like normal people instead, he thought and sank down into the chair. He threw his feet up on the desk, snapped on the screen and stretched for a coffee mug that didn’t exist. He sighed, as he once again realized that he would have to work without caffeine in his body. Then he begun loading the data that had come in during the night.
After a few seconds the result appeared on the screen. Oh, not bad! A total of sixty-seven objects! But it wasn’t that strange. The amateur astronomers were most diligent in the fall, when it got dark early while still being warm enough during nights. When winter arrived, the number of reported objects dropped drastically.
He looked through the list to see which of them the data-program thought was worth examining more closely. Nine objects were yellow-marked and three red-marked. For the ones marked yellow, only one extra control was needed before he could dismiss them completely. It almost never happened that any of these were upgraded to code red. He let the program double check the calculated paths of the objects and as expected, they all kept a safe distance from the Earth, at least within the next thousand years.
He moved on to the red-marked objects that required a deeper analysis. He took his feet off the desk and straightened himself up in the chair. He always experienced a certain amount of tension as he went through these potentially dangerous objects. Not that it was especially likely. He had actually not found anything that could threaten the Earth during his four years at work, except for some less harmless lumps that could hit the Earth with a ten to thirty percent risk within the next hundred to five hundred years.
But one could never know. A larger object that might suddenly hit the planet within his lifetime, could appear on the screen. Fortunately, they were prepared in case such a thing should happen. He had repeatedly played with the idea of being the one who started the enormous project that would be required to eliminate the danger. If they only found the object in time, there were several alternatives to use, everything from solar reflectors and lasers to rockets equipped with huge H-bombs. With several years head start, only a minimal course change of the object was required to make it miss the planet with hundreds of thousands of kilometers, and a solar reflectors or lasers usually worked fine for this task.
Sure, it only worked with stones of maybe fifty to two hundred meters in diameter. With larger lumps it became immediately a bit more difficult. Large masses and high speeds required high energies and to move an over one kilometer-sized lump, they needed to use massive H-bombs.
The computer worked for a few seconds and then the result of the analysis appeared on the screen. Mark winced as he saw how the last line blinked intensely. Damn, he thought, and grabbed his reading glasses. This one has to be analyzed further. Not every day it happens.
Let’s see what we are dealing with. How big can this lump be then? He looked down at the line where the estimated size was presented. But? Six meters? We have never worried about such small objects before. There must be something wrong with the data?
He pushed up his glasses and read again. But what the hell! Six kilometers! All objects in that size class had been spotted a long time ago. It was surely twenty-five years since we discovered a stone larger than three kilometers. I have to go through all the data properly. It would be embarrassing to start an operation and then it turns out that it’s some kind of error in the calculations.
Let’s see now. The reflection is weak, but at the same time very smooth. It must be an almost round object, not precisely what one would expect from an ordinary asteroid. I’ll have to check out its path. It can’t be located in the asteroid-belt, otherwise we would have discovered it a long time ago.
Okay, this was weird? Its path is not within the ordinary plane, but sixty-nine degrees north of the planetary paths. Maybe it’s a comet? But in that case, it should have revealed itself long ago with its brilliant tail. Okay, what’s the hit percentage then? He scrolled down a bit on the screen and read. Risk of impact 99.573%.
Oh my God! This is insane!
When can we expect impact then? In fifty to one hundred years? Five hundred years? He scrolled down a bit on the screen. Then he mumbled something, took off his glasses and quickly cleaned them against his sweater, put them on again and muttered something inaudible once more. Then he pushed a button on his keyboard and said straight out in the air with a trembling voice, "Connect me to Steven Weinberg."
He waited for probably ten signals before he heard Steven’s cheerful voice, "Hi Mark! How nice to hear from you. How are you down there in the bunker?"
"I’m fine… I’m fine… it’s okay down here... Steven, we have a problem."
"Okay, Mark, if you say so. Is it the coffee machine that’s failing again? You sound a bit stressed out. But you know what I think. You should quit that poisonous caffeine altogether. I haven’t drunk a cup in six months now. Feeling much more stable now, when I don’t need that brown poison to be able to function normally..."
"No, no, it’s not the coffee, or yes, it’s the coffee too, but forget that, there’s something else... Steven, we have a code red!"
Steven immediately let go of his cheerful tone and asked in a calm voice, "Okay, code red you say. What are we talking about? Give me size, hit percentage and preliminary time frame."
"It’s like this. If the software isn’t totally fucked up, we have to deal with a six-kilometer-large stone, with a hit percentage of 99,573."
"Oh shit, I’ll be damned! What about the time frame then? Should I start organizing the avert plan before I retire, or is it something that lies in the hands of future generations?”
"It will probably be you, Steven... Impact in sixteen days..."
"Ha, very funny, Mark! April fools is not until six months from now."
"As I said, Steven. If there’s nothing wrong with the software, then we are in big fucking trouble."
Mark heard a heavy sigh in the speaker.
"Okay Mark, send me the data right away, and then come over to me as soon as possible. We have to make a profound data analysis of this. We cannot spread this doomsday information if we aren’t one hundred percent sure that we are right... By the way, what’s the name of this motherfucker then?"
Mark quickly scrolled up to the top of the screen.
"Oleg-n038."