Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) by Lester Suggs Page B
Authors: Lester Suggs
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bed, and slid into the hall, and closed the bedroom door gently behind him before thumbing the answer button.
“Director Lovas,” he answered without a trace of sleep in his voice.
“Frank, it's Matt Fountain, NASA Space Tele-“
“I know who you are, Matt,” Frank cut in. “And I know you don't call someone like me without a serious reason.” Frank headed down the hall thinking of coffee. After an awkward pause Frank added, “So let's have it.”
“So, as normal procedure dictates, once a NEO gets within a certain distance of Earth, we scan it with radar and other instruments to gain more information like-“
“Uh huh,” Frank growled.
Matt made an uncomfortable nasal sound. “We bathed this thing with radar-“
“Are we still talking about Green X20something?” Frank cut in.
“Yes, Green X2018d,” Matt answered.
“So, you bathed it with radar….and?” Frank asked. He was growing tired of Matt’s circling conversation.
“Frank, this would go much faster if you would let me tell you why I called.”
“All right, Matt, I'll shut up. And forgive me — I’m not a middle-of-the-night person,” Frank said.
“Frank, everyone in NASA is awake right now. Everyone!” Matt shouted. “Radar was negative.”
That got Frank’s attention.
“What does that mean, Matt?" Frank asked.
“Well, it means it isn't made of solid matter.”
“Or it's stealth,” Frank blurted.
“No, Frank, we weren't convinced it was an alien craft driven by intelligence, at that point,” Matt said.
Frank said nothing. But, his eyebrows ratcheted up a notch.
“After it slowed and executed minor course adjustments, we became concerned,” Matt continued.
Frank jumped off his kitchen stool, “Wait, Matt, are you reporting to me this is an alien stealth craft?”
“No, Frank, you're not going to hear those words come from me,” Matt said. "What we believe is that the object is an unusual ball of plasma under the influence of gravitational and atmospheric pressure.”
“Sounds like something I'm not going to be able to repeat without laughing, Matt,” Frank said. “What does your gut tell you?”
“We don't know what it is because NASA has yet to witness or theorize such matter and behavior,” Matt said after a long pause.
Frank didn't know what to think about that comment. “Do I need to ask for a military response?” Frank asked pointedly.
“Too late for that, Frank, the Air Force got involved minutes after JPL woke up,” Matt said.
Frank made a note of the skipped protocols. "I'll contact the Air Force myself to cover policy,” he said, trampling Matt's small effort at self determination. “What are the details?”
“Two PA Air National Guard F16s will converge on the object if it makes it into our lower atmosphere. Four Air Force F22's are on stand by out of Wright-Patterson if they're needed.” After a pause Matt admitted, “Or so I overheard.”
Frank let out a sigh. “I’d better call the Air Force now before we're dropping bombs on New Jersey,” Frank said. “Matt, thanks for the heads-up, it will be an interesting day.”
“Have fun with that, Director.” Matt hung up. Frank marched off to his home office, coffee in hand, thinking of where to begin the parade of communications.
The officer on watch at this late hour was Lt. Col. Justin Braden. Braden was used to odd shifts at Wright-Patterson and was not at all slowed by the hour, but not usually one hundred percent. For the exercise of intercepting an interstellar object, Braden was wide awake. After being alerted at his duty station, Braden and his direct reports were briefed by NASA and Air Force Command and given access to data and equipment Braden hadn’t known the Air Force had until this moment. The entire operation was spooky, Braden thought.
The Air Force had five special mobile command facilities within the continental United States, someone had told him in the recent past. His duty station was the closest
“Director Lovas,” he answered without a trace of sleep in his voice.
“Frank, it's Matt Fountain, NASA Space Tele-“
“I know who you are, Matt,” Frank cut in. “And I know you don't call someone like me without a serious reason.” Frank headed down the hall thinking of coffee. After an awkward pause Frank added, “So let's have it.”
“So, as normal procedure dictates, once a NEO gets within a certain distance of Earth, we scan it with radar and other instruments to gain more information like-“
“Uh huh,” Frank growled.
Matt made an uncomfortable nasal sound. “We bathed this thing with radar-“
“Are we still talking about Green X20something?” Frank cut in.
“Yes, Green X2018d,” Matt answered.
“So, you bathed it with radar….and?” Frank asked. He was growing tired of Matt’s circling conversation.
“Frank, this would go much faster if you would let me tell you why I called.”
“All right, Matt, I'll shut up. And forgive me — I’m not a middle-of-the-night person,” Frank said.
“Frank, everyone in NASA is awake right now. Everyone!” Matt shouted. “Radar was negative.”
That got Frank’s attention.
“What does that mean, Matt?" Frank asked.
“Well, it means it isn't made of solid matter.”
“Or it's stealth,” Frank blurted.
“No, Frank, we weren't convinced it was an alien craft driven by intelligence, at that point,” Matt said.
Frank said nothing. But, his eyebrows ratcheted up a notch.
“After it slowed and executed minor course adjustments, we became concerned,” Matt continued.
Frank jumped off his kitchen stool, “Wait, Matt, are you reporting to me this is an alien stealth craft?”
“No, Frank, you're not going to hear those words come from me,” Matt said. "What we believe is that the object is an unusual ball of plasma under the influence of gravitational and atmospheric pressure.”
“Sounds like something I'm not going to be able to repeat without laughing, Matt,” Frank said. “What does your gut tell you?”
“We don't know what it is because NASA has yet to witness or theorize such matter and behavior,” Matt said after a long pause.
Frank didn't know what to think about that comment. “Do I need to ask for a military response?” Frank asked pointedly.
“Too late for that, Frank, the Air Force got involved minutes after JPL woke up,” Matt said.
Frank made a note of the skipped protocols. "I'll contact the Air Force myself to cover policy,” he said, trampling Matt's small effort at self determination. “What are the details?”
“Two PA Air National Guard F16s will converge on the object if it makes it into our lower atmosphere. Four Air Force F22's are on stand by out of Wright-Patterson if they're needed.” After a pause Matt admitted, “Or so I overheard.”
Frank let out a sigh. “I’d better call the Air Force now before we're dropping bombs on New Jersey,” Frank said. “Matt, thanks for the heads-up, it will be an interesting day.”
“Have fun with that, Director.” Matt hung up. Frank marched off to his home office, coffee in hand, thinking of where to begin the parade of communications.
The officer on watch at this late hour was Lt. Col. Justin Braden. Braden was used to odd shifts at Wright-Patterson and was not at all slowed by the hour, but not usually one hundred percent. For the exercise of intercepting an interstellar object, Braden was wide awake. After being alerted at his duty station, Braden and his direct reports were briefed by NASA and Air Force Command and given access to data and equipment Braden hadn’t known the Air Force had until this moment. The entire operation was spooky, Braden thought.
The Air Force had five special mobile command facilities within the continental United States, someone had told him in the recent past. His duty station was the closest
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