Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(73)

A week later, I’m pedaling the recumbent bike when the door flies open. James is home early from work. I stop, instantly aware that something has happened.

“We got a signal,” he says, panting.

“Signal? From whom? Where? The Pax?”

“Midway. The fleet found more artifacts. A lot more.”





Chapter 38





James





Fowler and I have analyzed the data from the Midway fleet. It’s staggering—the scale of our enemy. We’re now calling the artifacts solar cells, and as I suspected, there are many more of them.

Yesterday, we received another mini comm brick, this one from the Helios fleet. The information is timely—and has convinced us of what we have to do.

We turn Fowler’s office at the new NASA headquarters into a war room. And that’s what we’re planning: war. We’ve found our enemy. And we’re going to fight back. The thing is, it’s going to take every last person on Earth working together if we’re going to have any shot of winning this thing. Our first great challenge is convincing the politicians that we’re right.





The frigid apocalypse that has gripped the globe leaves a lot to be desired. There are, however, some highlights. The one I’m appreciating right now: no more business suits. In America’s grand exodus from our homeland, formal business attire didn’t make the list of things to save. Formality and style are buried in ice, probably gone forever.

So I dress in my gray slacks and black sweater and polish my boots and shave because this is the most important day of my life. I’m about to propose that the human race launch its most important scientific endeavor in history. We’re going to strike back. And if we don’t, I don’t know what will happen. If I can’t convince my audience, it might truly be the end for the human race. This presentation is the most important I will ever give. And I’m nervous.

Emma seems to realize that.

“You’ll do fine,” she insists.

“These are politicians. Anything could happen. They could say no.”

“They won’t.”

“But what if they do? This is our last chance, Emma. The final roll of the dice. It’s this or nothing. If we don’t go out there and fight, we’ll die a slow, cold death.”

She takes my face in her hands. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Just take one step at a time.”

She is my rock. I know the weeks since landing have been agonizing for her. But I think she’s getting better. I know she’s frustrated with her progress. I wish she weren’t.

“Is Oscar going with you?” she asks.

“No.”

I can’t risk taking him. That’s the truth.

To Emma, I say, “He needs to stay here and help you.”

“I’m fine on my own. Besides, I wish I were going with you.”

“Rehab is the most important thing in your life right now.”

“Rehab is far from the most important thing in my life.”

I wish she’d finished the thought. I wish she’d said what is the most important thing in her life. But like so many conversations between us, it’s left unfinished.





The meeting takes place in a gym. We don’t have schools here at Camp Seven, but they built a gym for exercise—and, I think, because basketball and volleyball, and watching kids play, makes the world seem normal, makes it seem like we’re going to get through this.

There’s a screen hanging where the basketball goals used to be. The bleachers have been taken out. The floor is covered with rows of desks on platforms that step up like a stadium.

In the pit, looking up at the rows of desks and faces and people waiting patiently, I stand beside Fowler, like two men awaiting a firing squad. It’ll probably be a lot like that.

Fowler starts things off. He summarizes the activities of the mission—the launch of the Pax and the Fornax, the discovery of the second artifact, the dispatching of the Midway and Helios fleets, the encounter with the artifact. This information is already known to the audience—it was in the briefing distributed beforehand—so he goes through it quickly.

Finally, he introduces me, and across the audience I see glimmers of recognition, as if they’re thinking, Oh, that James Sinclair.

The menacing stares don’t help my nerves. I feel like a kid who signed up for robotics camp but wound up on the debate team at the state finals; making presentations and arguing with people just isn’t my cup of tea. Desperate times, however, require sacrifice.

I clear my throat and start my slide deck.

“As Dr. Fowler has indicated, the crew aboard the Pax went to great lengths to acquire the information I’m about to share with you. As of right now, it’s probably the biggest secret in the world—and the most unsettling news we have ever had to confront as a civilization. We face a decision about the future of the human race. And these are the facts.”

I click the remote pointer, and the screen changes to a map of our solar system. In the black expanse are two white dots that I’ve circled. The positions for Earth, the Sun, and the asteroid belt are all noted.

“The circles you see are the last known locations of the two artifacts. Until yesterday, these were the only artifacts we knew of. But now we’ve heard back from the Midway fleet. And we have data to share.”