idea. An estrangement set in and the Solar System community fell apart so that there was hardly any contact or communication at all.
___
It was in these circumstances that a particular blue comet blasted into our Solar System. Hardly anyone noticed as the comet shot past Jupiter, leaving a shimmering streak of blue light in its wake.
When the blue comet approached the Asteroid Belt, the Asteroid Defense Force on St. John's space-island picked it up on their scanners. From his seat in a control tower, one officer said, “It looks like this one’s headed straight for us.”
“Engage, intercept and deflect protocol,” his superior answered. No one panicked. They'd taken care of this sort of thing thousands of times before. The small space-island at the outer edge of the Asteroid Belt mustered its usual defenses, secure in their belief this comet would obey the universal laws of physics and be redirected by a gravity-well shot into its path.
A young gravity gun operator was lifted into space under a balloon, then flown in a firesail ship to his gravity gun. The gunner wore a spacesuit, and jumped from the firesail ship’s exit tube. He guided himself through a short distance in space as the firesail ship rounded and turned back to the space-island, leaving him along out in space.
The gravity gun had a small cockpit which sat about a large dish. The gunner grabbed onto the massive gun dish and space walked to the cockpit. He entered, took his seat and prepared his instruments.
As the comet blazed towards him, he fired the gravity well into its path.
The comet ignored the gravity-well along with the universal laws of physics. It obliterated the defensive shield in mere moments. The gravity gun, and crewman were lost as the comet continued on its path towards the long, dark space-island.
Only, before destroying St. John's, the comet stopped dead in its tracks. There the interloping moon remained idle, hanging in the night sky, glowing a dazzling blue.
Chapter 1
Emmy Whitewood, from St. John’s
St. John’s Space-Island, exactly nineteen years later, to the day:
EMMY WHITEWOOD WAS curled up like a cat in her large, comfy, reading chair. Her head lay on a padded armrest while her bony knees were tucked into her chest. She held a paperback novel in her small, bright-white hands. Next to her chair, in a sprawling mess, lay stacks of books.
Fidgety by nature, Emmy moved in her seat to get more comfortable. Her lithe body was elegant and strong and moved with grace and agility, even when she was just shifting in a chair. She shivered and her bright skin flushed with goosebumps. An old family quilt was draped over the chair, so she pulled it around her and settled in to read.
She was supposed to be studying for finals. Her first year of college was going alright, even if she spent most of her time reading old stories about unquiet graves or fantastic monsters.
The light outside was dimming, making reading difficult. Emmy lifted her eyes from her book and looked out the large front window of her two-story cottage. She got up and moved towards the window, both to turn on the light, and to admire the landscape as she preferred it: under the glow of the Blue Moon. Her silver hair reflected the moonlight as she pressed her nose against the cold window.
The Blue Moon’s light fell softly, managing to make everything bathed in it seem warm and cheerful — as warm and cheerful as a thing could be at the dark and cold outer-edge of the Asteroid Belt. The moon reminded Emmy of her mother. Dr. Dorothy Whitewood had lived and worked in the Blue Moon most of Emmy's life, so it had become reflex to think of her when looking up at night. She bounced on her tiptoes at the thought that her mother would be visiting in just two more weeks.
Emmy's thoughts of her mother were interrupted when she heard a noise coming from outside. She spun around, but before she could see anything, the front door to her cottage
___
It was in these circumstances that a particular blue comet blasted into our Solar System. Hardly anyone noticed as the comet shot past Jupiter, leaving a shimmering streak of blue light in its wake.
When the blue comet approached the Asteroid Belt, the Asteroid Defense Force on St. John's space-island picked it up on their scanners. From his seat in a control tower, one officer said, “It looks like this one’s headed straight for us.”
“Engage, intercept and deflect protocol,” his superior answered. No one panicked. They'd taken care of this sort of thing thousands of times before. The small space-island at the outer edge of the Asteroid Belt mustered its usual defenses, secure in their belief this comet would obey the universal laws of physics and be redirected by a gravity-well shot into its path.
A young gravity gun operator was lifted into space under a balloon, then flown in a firesail ship to his gravity gun. The gunner wore a spacesuit, and jumped from the firesail ship’s exit tube. He guided himself through a short distance in space as the firesail ship rounded and turned back to the space-island, leaving him along out in space.
The gravity gun had a small cockpit which sat about a large dish. The gunner grabbed onto the massive gun dish and space walked to the cockpit. He entered, took his seat and prepared his instruments.
As the comet blazed towards him, he fired the gravity well into its path.
The comet ignored the gravity-well along with the universal laws of physics. It obliterated the defensive shield in mere moments. The gravity gun, and crewman were lost as the comet continued on its path towards the long, dark space-island.
Only, before destroying St. John's, the comet stopped dead in its tracks. There the interloping moon remained idle, hanging in the night sky, glowing a dazzling blue.
Chapter 1
Emmy Whitewood, from St. John’s
St. John’s Space-Island, exactly nineteen years later, to the day:
EMMY WHITEWOOD WAS curled up like a cat in her large, comfy, reading chair. Her head lay on a padded armrest while her bony knees were tucked into her chest. She held a paperback novel in her small, bright-white hands. Next to her chair, in a sprawling mess, lay stacks of books.
Fidgety by nature, Emmy moved in her seat to get more comfortable. Her lithe body was elegant and strong and moved with grace and agility, even when she was just shifting in a chair. She shivered and her bright skin flushed with goosebumps. An old family quilt was draped over the chair, so she pulled it around her and settled in to read.
She was supposed to be studying for finals. Her first year of college was going alright, even if she spent most of her time reading old stories about unquiet graves or fantastic monsters.
The light outside was dimming, making reading difficult. Emmy lifted her eyes from her book and looked out the large front window of her two-story cottage. She got up and moved towards the window, both to turn on the light, and to admire the landscape as she preferred it: under the glow of the Blue Moon. Her silver hair reflected the moonlight as she pressed her nose against the cold window.
The Blue Moon’s light fell softly, managing to make everything bathed in it seem warm and cheerful — as warm and cheerful as a thing could be at the dark and cold outer-edge of the Asteroid Belt. The moon reminded Emmy of her mother. Dr. Dorothy Whitewood had lived and worked in the Blue Moon most of Emmy's life, so it had become reflex to think of her when looking up at night. She bounced on her tiptoes at the thought that her mother would be visiting in just two more weeks.
Emmy's thoughts of her mother were interrupted when she heard a noise coming from outside. She spun around, but before she could see anything, the front door to her cottage
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