Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(56)

Izumi doesn’t like it. She’s mandated a crew meal together in the bubble. We use it as an opportunity to discuss the big question at hand: what happens after we shear off a piece of the artifact?

Grigory: “Is obvious. We fire nuke from Fornax as soon as sample is clear of blast radius.”

Min: “I agree.”

Lina: “Me too.”

Charlotte scrunches her eyebrows. “I’m not disagreeing. And I know this is probably a stupid question. But how will the nuke work in space?”

I sense that Charlotte is genuinely curious—not necessarily opposed.

Harry’s voice is gentle. “It’s a fair question.” He looks over at Grigory, allowing the engineer the chance to explain, since he’s more knowledgeable than all of us.

Grigory shrugs. “Bomb will go off, of course. Nuclear fission requires no oxidizer. The question is, what is the destructive force? On Earth, in atmosphere, heat and shock wave are large part of destruction. In the void of space, there is no shock wave, no heat wave. Only radiation and plasma cloud made of bomb materials. Nuke casing has been optimized to create plasma cloud. It will be very, very destructive. Widely dispersed as well.”

Charlotte nods curtly. “Thank you.” She bites her lip a second, then continues. “Yes. I’m for the nuclear strike. I’ll defer on timing. I don’t like it. But I’ve made zero progress with the message. And given that two probes have been disabled, in addition to the supposed strike against the ISS,” she pauses and cuts her eyes to Emma, who doesn’t react, “well, I think it’s clear that the artifact is hostile.”

“For me,” Min says, “the fact that solar radiation is nearly nominal in the regions of space outside Earth is very telling.”

“Yes,” says Charlotte. “That, too. We need to learn everything we can. Including how to destroy them.”

I don’t wait for the rest. There’s no need. This crew is stressed, worried, and haggard—but we’re unified on our course of action.

“The question is timing.” I wait, but no one says anything. “After we shear the sample, and evacuate it, I think we should hit it with the nuke immediately. We don’t want it to have time to send a message or take off. We’ll be in range to see it via Lina’s daisy-chained comm drone line. We’ll get images before the blast and at the moment of impact.”

“Nothing after?” Izumi asks.

“Not initially. The blast will take out the comm drones. The Pax will be far enough back. We’ll get some radiation though. We’ll send a small fleet of observation drones after the blast to survey the damage.”

We agree on the plan. We’re going to war with the artifact. The hours after tick by like a countdown to an event that might change the course of human history.





It turns out we have enough drone parts for two relay comm lines: one to Beta, and one to the Fornax. We’ll have real-time eyes on both during the battle. We barely had enough engine parts.

In the bubble are two large countdown windows.

Time to Fornax Comm Line Activation



2:32:10



Time to Artifact Comm Line Activation



7:21:39





I need to sleep. I’m haggard. But I can’t. My nerves are like a constant vibrating inside me, a droning alarm clock going off that I can’t reach.

There’s something else I need to do. On my way to the lab, I hear Emma’s voice floating out, clear and strong. She’s not talking to someone here—it’s too loud. A recording maybe?

“Hello, Mr. Perez. My name is Emma Matthews. I was the mission commander aboard the ISS when the catastrophe occurred. I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. Your daughter was a wonderful friend to me and a brilliant scientist. She was also the biggest prankster aboard the station. I remember this time—”

She starts to laugh, but it changes to a sob, which stretches out until she catches her breath. “Stop recording. Delete file. Start new.”

I’ve reached the hatch to the lab, which is partially ajar. Harry floats beside it. He’s made the same decision I have: to not go in.

I motion with my head, and we both push off and drift away.

In the exercise area, I mount the bike and pedal while he pulls on the resistance bands.

“How do you think this is going to go, James?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”





When I return to the lab, it’s silent. I find Emma pedaling the bike, head-down over a tablet, typing.

She looks up with bloodshot eyes and smiles.

“Hi.”

“Hey. How’s it going?”

That has to be the stupidest question ever. I’m nervous. Why am I so nervous?

“Fine,” she says. “Just finished some videos and letters I’d like to send back. I assume there’s room on the next comm brick?”

“Definitely. Lina’s images are very small and we don’t have much more data.”

“Great.”

“Listen. I just want to say this before we reach the artifact.”

She stops typing. Stops pedaling. Awkward.

“I, um… before, when I was so… adamant about your exercise schedule. I was just worried about you. I don’t want us to have any sort of disagreement or conflict between us. Not now. Not at the end—no, not the end. I don’t want us to be at odds before we go into this.”