Comet Clement.

Interception.

and The New Space Race.

George, Kevin.

BOOK TWO.

INTERCEPTION.

By: Kevin George.

CHAPTER ONE.

October 1, 2012-7 years, 10 months, 21 days until impact...

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. President Marshall stood behind his podium, intently listening to the man who stood a few feet beside him, a man attacking his reputation with hate-filled words, administering the verbal equivalent of a heavyweight boxer beating a hapless opponent.

Is that what I've become? A hapless opponent? the President wondered. I sure feel like one at the moment.

Charles Davis III, ex-governor of California, was certainly pulling no punches. He came from a state where politics was treated like all-out warfare and in the previous six months of campaigning, Davis had taken significant steps in overcoming Marshall in the polls, a feat that once seemed impossible. A year earlier, Marshall thought there was no chance he would fail to be re-elected. A second term was as close to a lock as there could possibly be. But now that 'Chucky 3' (who seemed more bloodthirsty than the killer doll from those horror movies) appeared on the cusp of winning the presidency, Marshall knew that the secret of Comet Clement could be blown by the end of the year.

Unless the President made a serious move.

The way this nationally televised debate was proceeding, though, making that serious move would have to be put on hold. In fact, Marshall was not sure that he would vote for himself considering the way this debate was going. Davis was a bulldog, a real fighter, and it felt like he was having all the time in the world to rip Marshall's administration to shreds.

Hasn't it been two minutes yet? Marshall thought, noting that the past 100 seconds felt like the longest of his life.

"I'm tired of taxes being raised every single year, significant increases that are crippling those Americans who may not be in the highest salary brackets," Davis continued. "And what excuse-notice I said excuse and not reason-what excuse is the government giving to those working class citizens?

"A space station? The government is stockpiling money for the future construction of a space station, at least that's what President Marshall claims. He claims this without giving any proof that a space station will actually be built. He claims this super station will be unlike anything the world has ever accomplished. He claims a lot of things, you see, and he does it as easily as I could claim that I have invented a car that is powered by oxygen; I have developed an invisibility potion; I have made a pill that can make people fly."

The large auditorium filled with laughter and with each sound of a happy, laughing audience member, Marshall became more and more nervous that millions of votes were slipping through his fingers.

After all my hard work on the Comet Clement secret, could a man who makes jokes about invisibility potions and flying pills actually replace me?

President Marshall had barely been in office for six months when the biggest news in the world's history had been brought to him and to him only. A two-and-a-half kilometer sized comet, named Comet Clement, was now on a direct path to Earth. If this comet struck, an explosion of epic proportions could lead to the extinction of humankind in less than a year.

At the time he was first informed, the Earth still had twelve years before impact. The past four years, though, had flown by quicker than Marshall could imagine. In that time, a man had been sent aboard a deep-space probe to deflect the comet, a mission that very few people knew about, only those lucky (or unlucky, depending on how he looked at the situation) enough to be part of the 'Inner Circle.'

"I'm sorry but while the thought of a super space station sounds wonderful, I think there are plenty of more pressing needs that would benefit hard-working Americans. I think blue collar workers should be able to keep more of their money instead of fueling the President's desire to create his own science fiction experiment, an experiment which America has been given no proof actually exists. Because Congress is controlled by one party the same party that controls the presidency worthless taxes such as the space station tax can be imposed. Can America really continue to face such unmerited taxation?"

Marshall kept staring down at the moderator of this debate. A short, chunky man with thick glasses, the moderator seemed more enthralled with hearing Charles Davis speak than in keeping fair, accurate times of the candidate's responses. While listening to 'Chucky 3' speak, the moderator had a smile on his face, as did every other person in the auditorium.

Every other person not named George Marshall. The President felt like he was on trial, facing false charges with no hope of proving his innocence. Perspiration trickled down his face and he hoped the girl who applied his make-up backstage did a good enough job to hide the anxiety making him glisten.

"I could go on and on all night about the President's space station debacle, but I surely could not hope to gain your trust and your vote simply by attacking a single topic. What about Andrew Brighton? He was the youngest vice-President in our country's history, and while President Marshall was also young to be President, his gusto for learning on the job did not seem to transfer to the vice-President. In fact, Andrew Brighton seems to have disappeared completely off the radar. While I certainly don't hope for anything bad to befall our President, bad things sometimes happen. And I do not think the United States of America can be trusted in the hands of somebody who has been given the second most powerful political office in the country, yet has refused to make the best of his situation."

Marshall's original campaign four years ago was run on the basis of youth and vigor, and Andrew Brighton, while perhaps not the most experienced politician on Capitol Hill, certainly fit the profile of youth and vigor. A House member from the state of Florida, Brighton quickly earned a reputation in Congress as being a real go-getter, even if a bit of a do-gooder who still did not have a keen sense on how the game of politics was played. Marshall's campaign camp viewed Florida as a crucial state though, and Brighton had no fear of joining a campaign originally not viewed as much of a threat to win the White House.

But that was four years ago and Brighton had not been able to remain in the public domain the way Marshall hoped. The young vice-President had a string of bad luck over the years, from the separate deaths of both his parents to the difficult birth of his first child. Peter Mansfield wanted Marshall to choose a new vice-President for their second run at the White House but Marshall thought the people understood the reasons for Brighton's absence from the public eye. Unfortunately, these personal problems had stopped him from being the sort of Vice-President the country might have liked to see.

Of course, Charles Davis III failed to mention Brighton's hardships, instead choosing to focus solely on his negative traits.

"My vice-Presidential running mate, Charles Rogers, has more than enough political experience a voter could hope for. He served in every facet of political office for his home state of Nebraska, from governor to senator. The man has been in politics longer than Mr. Brighton has been alive. If something were to happen to me, God forbid, I would feel completely confident in leaving Charlie Rogers in charge of the country.

"The final topic I would like to hit on before my time is up (It isn't already? Marshall thought) has to do with foreign relations, something that President Marshall was sure to address very early in his administration. As I'm sure many of you remember, the President traveled to Russia in his first few months on the job, making positive progress in opening relations with that country. The results of his trip seemed promising, but nothing significant ever came of the exchange of information between our two countries. The President made Russia a personal conquest of his, but I believe he failed to realize how unimportant it is to create strong ties with this country. If he truly wanted to help our economy by looking for stronger economic relations overseas, I believe he should have looked east a bit farther.

"By attempting a reconciliation with Russia, President Marshall attempted to open relations with a comatose country, a country whose own economy is among the worst in the world. Russia has barely been able to support itself in recent years and even if Marshall's plan to open a market with our Comrades had worked, I do not see the benefits it could have provided for America. Their money is nearly valueless and I cannot imagine a Russian would spend a month's worth of salary on a pair of Reeboks when they can barely afford to feed themselves.

"Yet for all of his failed efforts in dealing with Russia, Marshall accomplished one thing, one thing that might prove to be the most disastrous of his poor economic decisions over the past four years: in choosing Russia, he may have totally alienated China. While Russia might be spiraling uncontrollably downward in terms of world power, China is rocketing to the top. China is a country with an abundance of money, a country with over a billion possible consumers, a billion. A billion possible consumers added to our economy could take our country's finances to astonishing new heights, heights that our current President seems to have reserved only for space stations. In choosing Russia over China though, President Marshall may have very well turned his back on these billion consumers, a move that if not rectified quickly, could be permanent and eventually crippling economically.

"I am not going to ramble on and wax poetically about the reasons I deserve your vote. I feel the facts I've presented here tonight more than prove that a change is needed. President Marshall has wasted a lot of taxpayers' money and time, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen in the future."

President Marshall did not think he could become more concerned after hearing his opponent's nationally televised tirade. But now a lump formed in his throat at the mention of him "waiting for something to happen in the future." Of course Davis could not possibly have knowledge of Comet Clement. If he did, this sure would be a hell of a time for Chucky 3 to mention it. Thankfully, Davis continued his speech without a word about the secret.

"I am the best candidate for America right now. I am the candidate who wants change for today, not change for years down the line. America cannot grow lazy in its complacency, and I would not allow that to happen, much as my opponent has. Thank you for your time."

The auditorium erupted in applause, and for a brief moment, the two opponents' eyes met.

I got you now, Davis's eyes seemed to communicate, a look of confidence clearly etched in his hard, brown eyes.

With his turn to speak now at hand, Marshall pushed all his doubts and nervous feelings aside. If he failed to show the nation that he could continue to do a good job as President, Marshall knew he would surely lose. And the first part of gaining self-assuredness was not to give in to your opponent. Marshall winked at Davis, quick enough so the cameras would not pick it up, but just long enough so the cocky politician knew there was still fight left in the current President.

"Well, Mr. President," the moderator said. "You now have the final two minutes of tonight's debate to make your final comments. Please begin now."

A comet is coming toward Earth and keeping me as President will give us the only chance of survival. I have sent a deep-space probe to intercept and deflect the comet, and in case that doesn't work, I have begun plans to build a space station so that humankind has the opportunity to continue life. All of this was made possible because of the deal I've made with Russia, a country and a deal my opponent thinks is worthless. I have accomplished all of this while maintaining a regular schedule of a man with the most powerful job in the world. So therefore, if you don't appreciate what I've done, you can all kiss my- The President thought that particular speech would have been easier to make and more to the point. He could just imagine how quickly that smug look on his opponent's face would be wiped away. But on the other hand, nobody would be likely to believe him and he'd be left with a better chance at being elected to a room in Mimosa Grove than the Oval Office at the White House.

"Thank you, and thanks to all of my fellow Americans who have chosen to watch this debate in order to perform your civic duty the best way possible. In less than a month from today, voters across this country will be forced to make a very difficult choice, but a choice I hope will be easier to make if you consider how much I've accomplished in the first four years of my term."

Just off stage, Peter Mansfield watched as President Marshall began making his closing statement. As Marshall's Chief of Staff, Mansfield had known the President since the man's days as a Congress member from the state of Ohio. Back then, Mansfield had been eager to join the staff of any politician and Marshall took a chance on the young man. That chance certainly paid off.

Mansfield was an attractive, brown-haired man in his mid-thirties. While his boyish good looks and personable charm allowed him to appear like a saint to the public, those who knew Peter best knew of his extreme ruthlessness. One of the reasons Mansfield had lasted so long with Marshall had been his skills at dealing with unpleasant situations. There seemed to be nothing he couldn't take care of, no problem that he would not fix in the quickest, and often severest, manner. He was George Marshall's most trusted advisor, a fact that made him one of the most important men in the country.

Mansfield was also an integral member of the 'Inner Circle.' George Marshall always had the final word in matters involving Comet Clement but because Mansfield's opinion was so important to the President, the Chief of Staff could not help but feel his input played just as big a role. Mansfield knew that other members of the 'Inner Circle' resented his power over the President, but their opinions did not matter to him. Peter was who he was, it had gotten him this far in life, and he was not going to change now because he hurt some feelings along the way. He was ruthless because he had to be, and when their plans to deflect Comet Clement from colliding with the Earth became a success, the world would thank him.

But that was all contingent upon President Marshall winning re-election, a plan that Charles Davis III did not seem to be going along with.

"First of all, Vice-President Andrew Brighton has been loyal to me, my administration and the United States from day one. My opponent tonight attacked Andrew because, in a nutshell, he was out of the limelight for the past year," Marshall began, ready to launch his counter-strike in support for the vice-President.

This should be good, Mansfield thought. Although he would never admit it in public, Mansfield was not a fan of the vice-President. Before the primaries, Mansfield had tried convincing Marshall to replace Brighton, arguing that the man was indeed the weak link in their political ticket. Mansfield had even suggested that he himself be put in Brighton's place, a suggestion that was duly rejected by the President. Marshall argued and probably rightly so that Mansfield was much more valuable to the 'Inner Circle' if he remained low-key (as if being Chief of Staff meant nobody knew who I am). The job certainly did not have the same level of recognition as the vice-presidency.

It wasn't that Mansfield hated Brighton as a person. But the man allowed his emotions to control his actions, thinking with his heart rather than his brain, and that was a trait that the Chief of Staff abhorred in a politician. It also made keeping Comet Clement a secret from him much easier. After all, adding another person to the 'Inner Circle' would only increase the chances of the comet secret being revealed to the whole world.

"Vice-President Brighton has had many personal misfortunes the past few years, things he's had to deal with that many voters can surely relate to. Not that a man such as Andrew Brighton looks for sympathy, but the deaths of both parents and having his wife nearly die during childbirth should at least invoke understanding. He's had to juggle these personal struggles with one of the most important jobs in our nation. Yet he's always handled himself in a manner that has gained him an increasing level of respect from every individual who knows him. Andrew has learned on the job, as have I. And while his life has been hectic the past year, the job he did as Vice President before that time shows that Andrew Brighton is the right man to have by my side."

Although this statement did not draw the huge cheers that his opponent's speech had, the smattering of applause throughout the auditorium made Mansfield feel better. Deep down, Mansfield knew he was much smarter than the President, knew he was much more savvy and could make better decisions than George Marshall. But the one thing that separated the two men was eloquence, and George Marshall portrayed his incredible verbal and speech-making skills every time he spoke. No matter how smart Mansfield thought himself to be, he could not give a speech worth a damn, could not inspire people the way Marshall could. And that was the biggest difference between being a President and being a Chief of Staff.

"The second issue my opponent has attacked me on was the way I've handled foreign relations. He assumes that because the deals I've made with Russia have not enhanced the US economy, then they must be worthless. One of the first lessons I had to learn about being President was that you can't singularly focus all attention on the economy, an economy which has remained solid over the past four years. What Mr. Davis does not realize is that information we received from our dealings with Russia has given our country priceless details about our national security. Having all the money in the world would be wonderful, but what good is that money if we are vulnerable to attack? What good is that money if we don't know the best ways to protect ourselves? What good is money if we aren't around to spend it? Above everything else, the goal of my administration has been to make sure that every American every single American has the safety and protection he or she deserves."

For the first time since the President began his closing statements, Marshall had to pause for applause. The audience began to turn back in his favor, finally giving his Chief of Staff a reason to grin backstage.

Is this enough to come back in the polls? Mansfield wondered, remembering too many times over the past year when Marshall had not sounded so sharp and had not been able to forcefully rebut his opponent's accusations. It might depend on how he does with the big finish.

That big finish centered around the space station, a topic that proved quite controversial from the beginning. Nearly two years had passed since the President's major announcement, two years full of arguments about the pros and cons, arguments made not only in the media but around local water coolers throughout the country. At first, everybody seemed to have a strong opinion about the space station, whether it be positive or negative. For some reason though (Mansfield blamed a rebel-rousing press), the negatives seemed to find their way onto television, newspapers and radio programs more often.

It was a topic that followed President Marshall everywhere he went, yet a topic he was reluctant to speak about at length. After answering countless questions about the space station after the initial weeks following his announcement, Marshall had grown used to avoiding the same kinds of questions the media seemed to ask over and over.

'When will the space station begin construction?' 'How will the money be raised to build it?' 'What happens if this project fails?' 'Who will be hired to build the station?' 'How can you justify spending so much money on a glorified science project when there are millions of poor people around the world dying of starvation?'

The more Marshall tried to respond, the more trouble he seemed to make for himself. So instead of adding fuel to the fire and giving the newspapers and news programs plenty of ammunition, the President decided that giving vague answers might cool the flames of curiosity. Unfortunately, this approach had not won Marshall many allies and considering how far back in the polls he was, he'd learned how damning it could be to butt heads with an unfriendly media.

Charles Davis III was sure to keep the space station in the forefront of the public's mind during the campaign. Mansfield knew it was a topic that the President needed to confront in the final nationally televised debate. He just hoped the words he wrote for President Marshall would invigorate the thousands of audience members and the millions of voters watching from home.

"Finally, the last thing I'd like to speak about tonight is the one topic Charles Davis has attacked me about from day one," President Marshall began.

Peter Mansfield's phone buzzed in his pocket. Though it was a bad time to talk, he glanced at the caller-ID to see it was Secretary of Defense (as well as the head of NASSA) James Armour. More importantly than these two posts, Armour held a position in the 'Inner Circle.' Even though he'd clashed heads with Armour in the past, Mansfield knew Armour would be crucial in defeating or in the worst-case scenario avoiding the comet.

Mansfield knew where Armour was and knew what the man was currently in the process of doing, but the one thing he was more anxious to hear was the President's defense of the space station project. Peter pushed a button on the side of his phone, ending the buzzing and sending Armour directly to voice mail. He desperately wanted to hear the updated reports of Armour's progress, but it could wait a few more minutes.

The President was barely into the first fifteen seconds of the most important part of his speech when Mansfield's phone buzzed again. This time, he saw that he'd received a text message, a message containing three simple words: "PICK UP, URGENT!!!" A few seconds later, the phone buzzed for the third time. Mansfield finally gave in and answered.

"This better be good," Mansfield said. "Marshall is about to make his most important argument."

"Don't worry, you know what he's going to say," Armour said.

Armour stood at the back of a presentation room closer in size to a massive hall which might have seemed too large for the ten-member selection group. At the front of the room was a large screen, which currently displayed a live feed of the debate. The selection committee had hoped to hear the last of the twelve proposals before the debate started, but they came up short of time with only one bid remaining. Therefore, the last group was put on hold until after the hour-long debate.

"How do you think George is doing? Chucky 3 sure seems to be sticking it to him," Armour said.

"Thanks for stating the obvious. Look, let's cut the chit-chat and get to the point," Mansfield requested. Armour could clearly hear the annoyance in the Chief of Staff's voice but putting Mansfield in a foul mood was nothing new.

A vivacious man in his late-50s, Armour looked and acted much younger. He felt as good as he had in his younger years, during which time he'd been the world's best-known astronaut. This had made him the ideal candidate for being put in charge of NASA right around the time President Marshall made the deal with Russia to exchange information about the two countries' spying observations. The shipment of information that reached NASA for analysis was in the form of thousands of documents that followed Russia's history of tracking US satellites. One of the documents found within the shipment was a random form that contained an eyewitness account of a comet's interaction with a supposed black hole. When this form was brought to Armour's attention, he personally researched the whereabouts of this comet. With the help of a middle-school science teacher, Armour discovered the comet on a new, dangerous path.

The two men did what they thought was best and kept the discovery a secret. They went directly to President Marshall, who decided the problem would be best handled by a small, select group of powerful men. Among these men was the President's Chief of Staff, a man with whom Armour had trouble being cordial, yet a man who played a critical role in the 'Inner Circle.' But because he discovered the comet and its deadly secret, Armour felt secure enough in his position of power that he did not need to tippy-toe around Peter Mansfield's temper.

"I wanted to tell you that as soon as the debate is over, the selection committee will be hearing the final proposal. And since I couldn't help noticing Chucky 3's response from the crowd and his recent surge in the polls, I thought maybe we might want to-"

Armour stopped and looked at the nine men across the room, all of them intently watching the debate. Although these men had been trusted to keep the proposal meetings a secret, none were part of the 'Inner Circle' and thus could not hear any mention of Comet Clement. Armour was pretty sure nobody was listening to him but that didn't stop him from turning his back and lowering his voice.

"I thought we might want to move ahead with the next stage of our plan," Armour finished.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Armour glanced up at the screen to hear applause from the crowd. Whatever Marshall was saying was obviously working, but in order for the President to pull out the victory, drastic actions needed to be taken.

"How long will it take to put together a good, graphic presentation?" Mansfield inquired.

"The original plan had us starting work on the presentation just after the election. We figured it would take a few weeks. But that was contingent on a much longer deliberation period for the selection committee to cut the twelve proposals to six. If needed, we can move up the decision process and have the six choices made by tomorrow afternoon. A few more days to put together the presentation and we could be ready to go by the end of the week."

There was more silence on the other end of the line. Armour could not tell whether Mansfield was thinking about this idea or if he was concentrating on the President's speech.

"It'll probably help with the election," Mansfield contemplated.

"It would certainly generate excitement, especially considering how badly Davis has been crushing the space station idea. There'll be some people who hate the proposals whether we bring them up now or later, but the people who've lost interest over the past few years should be back on the bandwagon. I mean, it'll be an obvious attempt by Marshall to garner more votes but we just have to hope the public doesn't look at it that way."

"I'll have to talk to the President about it," Mansfield said. "But I think you're probably right, we should get this thing going as soon as we can. Start putting together what you have to. Make sure you get plenty of visuals for the presentation but try to get it done sooner than the end of the week. The more buzz we can create with this, the better it will be for the campaign."

"Are you sure George will go for this?" Armour asked. His reasons for calling Mansfield had not been to look for permission to start, as he merely wanted to pass along the idea to the President. He apparently sold his case to Mansfield though, which just about guaranteed the approval from Marshall.

"I'll take care of him, you take care of the presentation."

Armour hung up his phone just as President Marshall finished his closing statements. He took his seat at the large table, where nine of his most trusted advisors from the Department of Defense and NASSA were deep in discussion about the arguments just made by a set of candidates. Among the nine advisors were some of the brightest scientific especially astronomic minds in the country. Their main job was to assess and rate proposals from the twelve best companies who joined the space station sweepstakes. Armour pushed the power button on a remote control and the live feed from the debate disappeared from the big screen. Discussions among the committee members faded away as the entire group turned toward Armour.

"I know this has been a long day, everybody. And I know we were supposed to be finished by now. We're all tired but it's imperative we give the last proposal the same attention we gave the first eleven."

The nine other people in the room simultaneously shook their heads.

"Okay, I'll get the last presenters," Armour said.

Tyler Ainsworth Jr. looked like a brand-new man. His father, Tyler Senior, looked plain old.

The Junior Ainsworth had now been out of rehab for two years, in which time he'd significantly cleaned up his act. A good-looking man approaching thirty, Tyler had grown up in the life of luxury, leeching off his father's millions while partying his life away. He had a penchant for women, booze and drugs, the last of which he never considered a serious problem in his life, but one for which his father would not stand. A few years earlier, Tyler Sr. had sent his son to Mimosa Grove, a treatment facility for the wealthy, a place where Junior closely examined the lifestyle he had chosen for himself. His time spent there had proven to be a life-altering experience, and from the moment he was released, Tyler Jr. had rededicated his life to learning the family business. He cut his long hair, shaved off his goatee and went to work for his father.

Tyler Sr. had aged considerably the past few years, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew his body had begun to seriously deteriorate. A heavy smoker his entire life, the Senior Tyler had no doubt lung cancer had stricken him. As far as he was concerned though, doctors were for small children and pregnant women, and he refused to have his health checked by a physician. Besides, he doubted a doctor would be able to keep him alive even if he did have cancer. Senior knew his life was coming to an end, and instead of having doctors shove tubes in every part of his body and tell him what he could and could not do, the old man decided to let nature take its course.

The past few months, nature had been fighting Tyler Sr., but the old man refused to give in just yet. His anger and stubborn demeanor alone was keeping him alive, as he had to make sure he was around to see the acceptance of his final project.

I can't let the damn kid screw this one up for me.

The two Tylers waited outside the large auditorium, sitting on the same uncomfortable bench together for the past hour. Their appointment with the NASSA Counsel had been scheduled for 90 minutes earlier, but ran significantly late. Normally, the senior Tyler would have been angered by this-punctuality had always been a crucial part of the way he conducted business-but there was nowhere he had to go anymore. The presentation he and his son were about to give was the reason he was still alive and he was in no rush for its conclusion.

While his mind was more than willing and able to wait, his body was a different story. He ached all over and could not control his terrible cough, a hack that seemed to produce bloodier phlegm every time he coughed.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Tyler Jr. asked, taking his father's arm while the old man coughed uncontrollably. "You can trust me to handle this alone."