The Runaway Asteroid by Michael D. Cooper (romance book recommendations TXT) 📖

to grow two inches taller.

Zip's brow remained furrowed. He showed little emotion. For him the time to exult would be when the asteroid had been diverted. This was only a vital step in the process. There were others ahead.

Mark kept his eyes on the screen but spoke to Mr. Madera. "I have a theory, Mr. Madera. There must be power enough in this system, and far more than enough, to turn the asteroid aside. We don't need to find out what Zimbardo's burned out. We should try to get access to the rest of the system. The diagrams I sent you show that there must be plenty of power. We just have to find out how to turn it on!"

"That's sound reasoning, Mark," nodded Madera. "And probably easier than trying to locate whatever damage Zimbardo did."

For some time, Mark and Madera conversed quietly as Mark flipped through file after file. Diagrams appeared and Mark's fingers flew over the screen as he pointed out what he had learned while journeying on the Star Ranger. Madera nodded, and pointed out several connections Mark had not seen.

Once, Madera handed a small diagnostic pack to one of the technicians and sent him to climb the iron latticework. The man returned in a few moments and gave a report. Madera nodded again and turned to Mark.

Three hours went by. Joe's eyes were drooping, but Zip was still intent, his eyes on Mark.

Mark clapped his hands and turned to Madera. Madera smiled and raised his eyebrows. With an open hand, he gestured to the control panel. Mark nodded his thanks and pressed several buttons. The files changed rapidly at each new command. Then Mark made fists and clenched a few times as if massaging his fingers. Then he raised his hand and prepared to press a button off to the side of the panel.

Suddenly he leaped back a foot, his hands lifted as if he had touched a hot surface. His face was white, his eyes were wide open, and he was breathing hard. His body was trembling as if he were deadly frightened. Zip shot forward, pushing his way through the crowd to reach Mark.

"What is it, Mark? What's wrong?" His voice was urgent.

"The power plant-it's thousands of years old!" Mark wasn't looking at Zip-he was still looking forward, as if his eyes were being drawn to the controls. "Pressing this button…" he stopped and swallowed hard, and blinked twice. "Pressing this button is the last step in activating the rest of the power plant. It should give us the power we need, but-but it's clear that it hasn't been activated for thousands of years. There's no way to tell whether it's safe. This is a complicated system. If something is wrong," Mark slowly turned to face Zip, "If something is wrong, if a bolt has slipped into the wrong place, if Zimbardo bypassed a vital circuit somewhere, or if a conduit is stopped up anywhere, all the energy this plant can produce could blow back at us. The entire works could explode into a million pieces."

Zip looked at the floor for an instant, then looked up again and stared directly into Mark's eyes. "You're right, Mark; but there's no other choice. You have to do it."

Mark's exhaled quickly. "Oh, I know, Zip-I know. But as I reached out my hand, I had a sudden chill that our destruction was a second away. It just didn't feel right. And if this asteroid blows into fragments, then Earth will be peppered with hundreds of devastating impacts!"

Zip slowly turned and faced the silent crowd. Every face was marked with grave intensity. Joe stood at the back, his face drawn and tense.

"You all heard," Zip said. "But you all know that we have no choice." No one said anything. A few men dropped their eyes and shuffled their feet. Zip turned to Mr. Madera in silent appeal. Madera nodded very slowly.

Then Mark wiped both hands on his shirt and slowly reached out and pressed the last button.

A distant grinding noise as of gears engaging sounded from far away. There was a whooshing sound as of air filling a giant bag. The grinding sound leveled off into a bare hum. The lights gradually came on.

The men cheered. Mark looked relieved. The tension under which he had been operating quickly released. His face wrinkled up and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

Then the bare hum began to build. It turned into a whine, and then into a shriek. The floor began to shudder. Mark wiped his eyes and stared at the screen.

"The reaction is starting, but the energy level is climbing much faster than it should! Something's wrong! Something's wrong!!"

The men began to hear small explosions. There was a popping sound as a flexible tube burst a few yards away. Tinkling glass rained down in several places as light bulbs popped with the influx of too much energy. Mark began to flip rapidly through files on the screen.

All at once a panel a hundred yards away blew out in a monstrous explosion. A burst of brilliant white light blinded the men momentarily. As their eyes returned to normal a loud hiss cut through the air and continued to build. Yellow and orange sparks erupted in a spectacular shower from the damaged panel. Mark turned toward the site with a look of panic. Without warning a connector at the panel lit up with a coruscating orange color. Unable to handle the power surge, it began to melt and fragment. In less than a second, the damage shot through the connector and came to where it entered the computer terminal. There was a sickening, deep "brrzzz" sound, and the screen went dark.

Mark slumped toward the floor. Madera grabbed the Starman before he fell and eased him to the iron deck. Joe ran forward.

21: The Asteroid Over Vanuatu

ZIP was already hunched over Mark when Joe came to the front of the crowd. A few of the men hovered nearby, which others ran to the site of the explosion. Most stayed in place, looking around nervously.

"Is he…?" stammered Joe.

"He sustained a powerful shock," said Madera. "The energy was too much for that panel and it backed up to the terminal here. Mark had his hand on the keyboard."

Zip was taking Mark's pulse. Mark's right hand was blackened and his sleeve was frayed up to the elbow. "His pulse is strong. I think he's just unconscious. It must have been quite a blow!"

"Yes, it was," said Madera. "I could feel the power of it just standing nearby! But his heart is beating strongly! Let's get him back to the Tempest where he can receive some care!"

"What about the power?" asked Joe, getting to his feet.

"Look around you, Joe," said Madera with a wave of his hand.

Joe and Zip looked out toward the plant.

"Hey!" exclaimed Joe. "It's okay! It's leveled off!" The shriek had diminished to a gentle hum once again, and the sounds of popping conduits and breaking glass had disappeared. "What happened?"

"I think that the panel over there was a huge breaker for this part of the power system. Mark was right. There was enormous danger in starting the plant up after so long. The energy surged through it and even the breaker couldn't handle it very well. It blew up when it couldn't handle the strain any more, and diverted the energy it couldn't absorb back into the terminal here. Fortunately for Mark, by that time there was only a little left." Madera glanced down at Mark. "He's a brave man."

"Yes, he is," confirmed Joe with some animation. He and Zip picked Mark up. With the help of two others, they carried him to the elevator. In less than a minute, all the men were on their way back to the control center and the Tempest.

Within ten minutes they were back in the main hall. Through the great doors they could see more than two dozen spacecraft arrayed on the extensive launching pad.

Mark sighed deeply, then moaned. The four men who were carrying him kept up the pace. Joe called out, "Mark! How're you doing?"

Mark moaned again, blinked, then opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling, appearing not to see anything. Then suddenly he began to struggle.

"Hey! Hey, what're you doing?" he cried out. "Put me down!"

"Easy, Mark," said Zip. "You had a shock, but you'll be okay!":

"I'm okay now! Put me down! I have to fix the panel! Where are you taking me?"

"Everything's fine, Mark," said Mr. Madera. "The system leveled out and the power is back on and controlled."

Mark sank back with another sigh. "Great," he said. "Put me down, though. I'm all right." The men set him on his feet, but supported him as he wobbled, trying to get his balance.

"Wow! Am I tired!" he said at last. "Somebody help me to my bunk and wake me when it's over."

"I'll go with you, Mark," said Joe. With Joe trying to support the larger of the two Starmen, the two of them walked slowly across the quad to the airlock that led to the launching pad.

"We're still not finished," said Madera. "We have to steer the asteroid out of its collision course. For that, I think we'll need some help from an unlikely source."

"Gene," stated Zip.

"Gene," affirmed Starlight Enterprise's Chief Ioneer.

Jesus Madera reached for his communicator and asked that Gene be sent to him from where he was being held in the Tempest. Madera dismissed the men who had been with them in the power plant, then turned to the red-headed Starman.

"I'm sure that Joe or even I could pilot the asteroid if we had to, but it is best that Gene do it-best for him."

"Of course, Mr. Madera," said Zip. "I understand."

While they waited, the Starman gazed around. Far above was the roof of the great chamber like an iron sky. The natural lights of the complex once again blazed throughout the structures. The air seemed fresher.

He and Madera watched Gene descend the ladder and jump the last few rungs to the pad. Then he turned and paced quickly to the closest entrance in the great wall. He came through the airlock, discarded his helmet, and hurried to the small group that was waiting for him.

"We have restored power," said Madera.

"So I see!" said Gene with a great smile. "That's terrific! Do you want me to pilot the asteroid away from Earth?"

"That's exactly what I want you to do. Let's go."

The three men made their way along the corridors, hastened past open
doorways, and took the elevator up one flight to the control center.
They passed dozens of SE men and members of Space Command. Captain Mary
Marks-Owens was supervising their work.

Once in the control center, Gene took his seat at the main console, glanced at the Starman and the other men in the large room, then stared at the screen before him. He scratched his head, then placed his hands on the keyboard and activated it.

"Whew!" he exclaimed a moment later. "Well over 290,000 miles per hour! It would be better to turn this asteroid aside and pass by the Earth rather than try to bring it into orbit, as Zimbardo had planned at first. We're going too fast for that!"

"My thoughts exactly," said Madera, seating himself on a stool next to
Gene. "Let's see how you do it."

Gene plotted coordinates and tracked the trajectory of the runaway asteroid, then calculated the amount of thrust needed to pass the Earth at a safe distance. He figured how much he could slow the asteroid down without putting too much stress on the inhabitants. When he was finished, he turned to Madera.

"Okay?"

"Looks right to me!"

"Well, then…here goes." Gene entered the figures into the primary guidance system and activated it. Tears suddenly came into his eyes. "Oh, please let it be enough, let it be right, let it work," he whispered.

The Starmen woke after twelve hours of sleep aboard the Star Ranger. Uncharacteristically, Joe was the last one up. He found a note in the washroom that read, "We're on the Tempest. Join us for breakfast whenever you're ready." He washed up quickly and hastened to the SE fleet command ship.

Readily admitted, he found his two colleagues in the dining area. Mark and Zip were just finishing a large platter of scrambled eggs and cheese, potatoes, freshly-squeezed juice, and hot coffee. "I'll