The Inner Circle (11 page)

"I'm not too sure about the significance of what I'm about to tell you, but from this point on, anything we discuss is purely confidential. Can I trust you with that?"

Armour wasn’t so sure he should say anything more to this strange little man and Ackerman wasn’t so sure he wanted to be trusted with anything confidential. But the situation had brought the two men together and both figured it was some sort of fate.

"Sure."

Armour went on to tell him about the Russian information project and about how this strange report came across his desk. He took the report out of the folder and read it, saying how the spelling of Clement was probably different in the Russian language.

"So you think this really happened then? A comet really escaped from a black hole?" Earl asked, shocked that somebody might have actually witnessed such a rare space event.

"I don't see why somebody would lie in this report. I just wonder why it wasn't announced in the astronomical community. I would have thought an event like this would be important enough to garner some sort of attention from astronomers around the world."

"Maybe it isn't true, then."

"That's where I was hoping you would be able to help me out. I realize you're busy with your asteroid belt project here, but the fact that you know so much about this subject really makes you the ideal person to help me out."

Earl could not turn down a personal request from Jimmy Armour, no matter how important it was for him to prove the author of the Ceres article wrong. He would be able to do that any time, but helping Armour with
anything
was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Wait until my fellow science teachers hear this, they probably wouldn’t even believe me.

"Sure, Mr. Armour. It would be an honor to help in whatever way I can."

"Thank you for understanding. And please, call me James."

-         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -        -        -

For an ordinary person to track the comet's progress, a lot of research would have to be completed before an attempt to use the telescope. Armour was able to overcome this barrier though, as he had a password to get into every NASA related database on their mainframe. Much of the information – while not fully classified – was not readily available to the public. Once Armour's password was typed into the computer, a whole new world had opened up to Earl, who was able to find all of the information he needed within a few clicks of a mouse. 

A comet-tracking computer program pinpointed the exact spot in the sky where Comet Clement was now supposed to be, simply by entering the original coordinates along with its projected speed and path of trajectory. All of the information in the NASA database was sure to make finding the exact whereabouts of the comet a relatively simple process.
             

With the new coordinates of Comet Clement supposed current location in space now calculated by the computer, all that was needed was a few more clicks on the keyboard. The telescope then attempted to focus on the two and a half-kilometer comet. When the view of this part of space appeared on the computer screen, it did not take long to figure out the validity of the Russian report.

"There you have it," Earl said. "Absolutely nothing. The Russians must have been on to something."

Armour had been hoping the comet would appear on screen, so he would be able to dismiss the information from this strange, out of place form. Simplicity was not meant to be though, and any hope Armour had of going home and being asleep at a decent hour now seemed to be dashed.

The two men worked throughout most of the night, the second part of their search not progressing quite as easily as the first. The Russian information provided only the starting point and the new angle of trajectory for Comet Clement. The missing piece of information required to locate Clement in the night sky was the speed at which the comet was traveling. This was usually determined by the discoverer of a comet, as measuring how far a comet traveled by tracking it in space over the matter of several hours allowed a calculation of approximate speed.

If a plane flew from Los Angeles and traveled east for four years, where would it be now?
This was impossible to figure out unless the exact speed of the plane was known.

Earl started off by trying to use the previously recorded speed of the comet before it collided with the black hole, but the results came up empty. After deciding that the comet had been slung out of the gravitational field of the black hole, they determined its speed had more likely increased than decreased.

Originally calculated to be traveling at a speed of thousands of miles per hour, any guess as to how much the speed had increased made a dramatic difference in the final distance the comet had traveled. For over six hours, the two men worked on trying to find the comet, using different numbers to calculate where it might possibly now be.

"This comet is going to be almost impossible to find, isn't it?" Armour asked at four in the morning, after being awake for nearly 24 hours straight. His fatigue was really beginning to grow extreme and he was sure that when he felt like this, he probably appeared much closer to his real age.

"Not impossible, sir. Improbable, perhaps, but nothing is impossible."

Perfectly on cue, the next set of coordinates Earl typed into the computer finally hit pay dirt. When he saw the dot on the computer screen, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

             
"Like I said, not impossible."

Seeing the comet on screen was like receiving a jolt to Armour's heart, his extreme fatigue disappearing as a relieved excitement swept over his body.

"Is that the one we want?"

"I would have to think so," Earl Ackerman answered. "It would be a miracle if we just happened to stumble across an undiscovered comet."

"Well, it's not much to look at, is it?"

"No, they never seem that dangerous when you’re watching them from millions of miles away. But according to the comet database, this comet is huge compared to most of the others."

"You can plot its orbit now, right?"

Earl clicked away on the computer, describing everything he was doing. He told Armour that since they could now calculate the comet’s speed based upon how far it had traveled, they now had enough information to plot its orbit in space.

"I'll have to inform some people about this," Armour said. "The database will have to be updated and I'm sure many astronomers will be interested to know about how this comet's path was shifted by a black hole. Since you’ve been so helpful tonight, maybe you’d even like to write an article about what we’ve discovered."

“I would be honored, sir.”

Earl continued to type away on the computer, appearing to Armour to be deep in thought. Armour looked at his watch and saw that the sun would be up in a few hours, which meant his work day would begin much sooner than he would have liked. Re-discovering the comet had been challenging – yet rewarding – but now that it was over, Armour realized just how much effort he put into something that gave him such little in return. If he would have had a second chance, he was not sure he would choose working all night to find a worthless comet over his usual seven hours of sleep.

Ackerman was still typing away as Armour picked up his suit jacket and NASA wind breaker, throwing them both over his shoulder.

"Mr. Ackerman, thanks for taking time out of your schedule to help me with this. If you need the use of the observatory here to finish your research any time in the near future, I will personally make sure you receive access to it as soon as possible."

Armour still received no response from Earl, who continued to type on the computer, slowly shaking his head at whatever he saw on the screen. 

"Is something wrong?"

Armour crossed the room, and when he was within a few feet of Earl and the computer, he heard Earl repeating the same three words over and over. When he saw the illustration of the comet's path displayed on the computer screen, Armour could say nothing but those same three words.

"Oh my God."

CHAPTER EIGHT

President Marshall could never hear enough praise from the media. It was six in the morning when he made his way to the Oval Office, where the early morning news was doing a story about the release of the "Russian Reports." The day before, Marshall received the first batch of reports from the Pentagon, highlighted by one report in particular about how the Russians were tracking every submarine in the U.S. Navy around the world. The information in the reports was nothing new to U.S. intelligence people, who'd assumed their boats were being watched all along, but the press was in awe about how President Marshall was able to get Russia to admit to their level of spying.

Marshall never woke up this early in the morning, but now that people were finally beginning to understand just how important his trip to Russia had been, he was not going to miss a single news report mentioned his accomplishment.

On the television, an attractive Asian reporter was speaking in front of the White House as the sun was just beginning to rise over D.C.

"President Marshall's trip to Russia was initially met with skepticism. There were reports that even some of his own Cabinet members did not think he had the experience to deal with such a powerful leader as Russian President Aleksandr Metachenko. But with the deal to share information, and the release yesterday of the first of the ‘Russian Reports,’ I think it’s safe to say that our President will likely accomplish more in his first hundred days of office than any other President in recent memory. Back to you, Jane."

Chief of Staff Peter Mansfield walked into the Oval Office, his suit uncharacteristically disheveled, gulping down his third cup of coffee. He was also not used to being up this early, but when a call came from Marshall's secretary saying the president was in his office early, Peter got out of bed and rushed over as quickly as possible.

"Ah, Peter. Have you seen the news this morning?"

"No, sir. I haven't had time yet. I was worried when I heard you were at work so early. Did something happen that I need to know about?"

"Yes, something very important as a matter of fact. I'm finally receiving my due credit for dealing with the Russians."

Mansfield could not believe he’d rushed all the way over here because the president had finally seen something on television that he liked. Before he could voice his disbelief, though, there was a light knock on the Oval Office door and the president's secretary, an elderly woman named Mae – who had also served the two Presidents before Marshall – stuck her head inside.

"Mr. President, James Armour is on the phone. He said it was urgent that he sees you some time today. Do you want to talk to him or should I just pencil him in for some time this afternoon?"

"Armour? The NASA guy? Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, sir. Just that it was urgent."

President Marshall glanced over at the television and saw the news program had gone to a commercial.

"You can put him through."

The secretary left the room and Marshall turned towards his Chief of Staff, as if the man had something to tell him.

"Do you know what this will be about? Maybe his 'Russian Report'? I don't know why that would be so urgent, though."

Mansfield just shrugged as the President picked up the phone.

“James Armour, it's nice to here from you."

"Same here, Mr. President," Armour said over the phone. "But I'm afraid that once you find out the reason for this call, you won't be as glad to hear from me."

"That doesn't sound like good news. What can I do for you? I'm assuming this call is concerning NASA's Russian data."

"Sort of. Our report should be on your desk by the end of the day. It doesn't really say anything overly important."

"Then what's so urgent?" the president asked.

"I've come across something from the Russian data that could prove, for the lack of a better term, Earth-shattering. I don't think it’s something we should discuss over the telephone, though. I am on my way to an airport now to fly up to D.C., and I really need you to spare some time for me later today."

Not discuss over the telephone? Does this guy actually think the telephone in the Oval Office is possibly bugged?
Marshall thought.

"My schedule is always packed, but I think I could afford a few minutes sometime later today."

"I don't want to sound like I'm pressing you, Mr. President, but this information will require more time than just a few minutes."

Armour informed Marshall that his plane would be landing at Dulles just after eleven and asked if the President would be so kind as to leave his name – along with the name Earl Ackerman – at the guardhouse by the White House gate. Before he gave Marshall the chance to explain that scheduling conflicts would not allow him more than a few minutes, Armour hung up the phone.

"What was that all about?" Mansfield asked.

"Crazy old coot was demanding more time than just a few minutes. Said he couldn't discuss it over the phone, but seemed pretty nervous about whatever it was he had to say. Whatever it is, he should know that the President's time is too limited to demand at the last second."