Chapter 3.

Someone banged on the door, rattling the frosted gla.s.s in the frame. The door swung inward to reveal Bradley. "Nia, you need to see this." He bounced excitedly from one foot to the other.

"Gotta go, Callie. Let me know when he contacts you. And would you mind alerting the rest of the girls? Find out if they've seen a bird." Nia dropped the phone back onto the cradle. When her fingers brushed the surface of the electronic device, a tiny sting of charged current traveled from her hand to her shoulder.

"d.a.m.n!" She shook her hand, like the motion would ease the sting. Similar to the electric jolt she'd gotten from shaking Thomas Wilde's hand, but not nearly as pleasurable. "What gives?"

"Just had a coronal burst. It measured off the charts." His voice squeaked and quaked.

She pushed past him to leave her office. "Have you checked the playback yet?"

The inst.i.tute had a solar array at the rear of the park-like property. The complex set of dishes and telescopes would have been automatically triggered to record any type of flare or burst on the sun's surface.

Bradley chased after her down the hall. "I left Barry working on it and ran to get you."

Nia broke into a jog. Her sandals slapped against the marble flooring. Normally, she'd enjoy the beauty of the rounded ceilings and celestial maps painted on the walls. But now, the need to get to the observatory trumped every other thought.

Two techs working in the observatory chattered excitedly as they rushed from one workstation to another. Print-outs crinkled between their clutched fingers while they checked data and reports. Noise bounced off the copper dome. The oversized portal in the ceiling clanged, increasing the confused commotion as it slid open. Like a flock of birds they moved to the central control console.

A path cleared for Nia as she joined the cl.u.s.ter around a ma.s.sive monitor. The computer specialist, Barry, was seated at the com terminal, mumbling incoherently as he pounded on a keyboard. He'd enter a string of data, then backs.p.a.ce over it. His breath came fast and furious, and sweat trickled from his hairline down the side of his face.

"Dammit!" He jabbed the delete key and erased his latest entry, then tried again. "f.u.c.k!"

Huffing out a deep breath, he flexed his fingers and rapidly retyped exactly the same command he'd just deleted. Nia edged around the other techs and laid her hand Barry's arm, funneling calming prods through the point of contact. His shoulders rose, then fell as he took a deep breath. The tension left his arm and he resumed typing, slowly and deliberately. The blank screen over his head suddenly blazed bright cerulean. The spinning wheel appeared, indicating the feedback was loading.

Everyone held their breath as individual sections of the display began to populate with images the solar array had captured. The same image of the sun appeared in six different windows, each one colored differently. The images were captured using their ground-breaking solar dynamics technology. The top dogs at NASA had been so impressed with the technology, they'd paid an obscene amount of money to license it from Helios.

"Get ready for it, folks," Barry cautioned. Glee pushed the normal tenor of his voice at least an octave higher. Nia studied the faces around her, and each person wore a look of antic.i.p.ation, as though it were Christmas morning.

Biting her lip to contain her smile, Nia recognized the bubbly sensation building in her chest as a kindred eagerness. Even though she'd seen hundreds of solar flares in her lifetimes, this one was the first of the magnitude she suspected they were about to witness.

She trained her gaze back on the monitors as the playback commenced. On the side of the sun's surface, gases churned in a circular pattern, similar to a hurricane, but circling back toward the surface, instead of swirling upward. A sudden, violent burst of energy erupted, ejecting plasma and ionized gas into the atmosphere.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Bradley blurted from behind her. "Look at it go."

"Measurement?" Nia demanded.

No one questioned what she wanted to know.

Barry zoomed the controls out on one of the images. "Twenty-five, no, twenty-nine hundred miles above the surface."

G.o.ddess, it had reached record-breaking height. Nia clamped a hand on top of her head. This magnitude of coronal ejection would certainly wreak havoc on Earth. A burst like this would definitely disrupt magnetic fields and electronic devices. "Are you tracking radio waves?"

Barry blew through a few more keystrokes and a separate monitor flared to life. Rather than the typically gently rolling waves, the tracking lines were jagged, with a large spike about four seconds into the eruption. That would be the jolt that had disrupted her call with Callie.

Nia stared at the onscreen image, struggling for an interpretation that made sense. Something...anything, that was scientific in nature that would negate any supernatural influence and the presence of a magpie outside her window. She came up blank.

"Run that back," Bradley ordered. When Barry compiled, Bradley whistled low. "It's approaching the speed of light, Nia."

"Someone call the National Ocean and Aeronautics Agency. NOAA needs to know they can expect shifts in tides and possible tsunami. Multiple tsunamis," she corrected. A tech scrambled to do as Nia instructed. Sensation in her belly mimicked the radio waves on the screen, like some horrible roller coaster ride. She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to control the sickening lurch and roll. "Someone else check the record books. If I'm not mistaken, we've just captured history being made."

Shouts bounced off the dome as everyone cheered her decree.

The celebration was short lived, however. She held up her hands, calming the techs. "That wave will hit within fifteen minutes, give or take. Shut down what you can, but get everything unplugged. We don't want to lose any data or equipment." For a change, Nia was delighted she'd been too busy today to even switch on the elaborate system in her office. Fortunately, she'd insisted on super-charged surge protectors for all the systems. But still, better safe than sorry.

Better alert the media as well. It was convenient to have a sister who was an investigative reporter. Nia pulled her phone from her pocket and swiftly Facetimed Polly.

Her broadly smiling sister answered on the second chime. "What's up, baby sis?"

"Polly, the sun just experienced a coronal ma.s.s ejection. I'm talking about history in the making."

"Hold on." The smile disappeared from Polly's mouth, replaced by a grim line as she reached past the screen range. She was back in an instant with a mini voice recorder. Even with access to all the latest electronic gadgets, her sister still clung to more old-school methods. She waggled the machine in front of the screen and depressed one of the side b.u.t.tons. "I'm recording this. I'm speaking with Nia Thanos of the Helios Inst.i.tute. Tell me in layman's terms what this news means."

"Basically, the sun just belched out a huge ma.s.s of plasma and gases. The ejection reached nearly three thousand miles above the surface."

"How will this affect us on Earth?" Polly propped her phone on something outside the camera frame and grabbed a pen to scribble notes. Nia had a view of the top of Polly's head and ceiling tiles.

"The explosion disrupted the normal rhythm of radio waves that bombard the Earth all day long. The waves, which are moving at the sound of light, will reach our planet in roughly fifteen minutes. Satellite signals will be scrambled, probably in the next three minutes. Phones and data lines will be affected. People need to be warned to unplug whatever electronics are important. Can you get the message out?"

"On it." Polly reached toward her phone as she yelled for her producer.

"Polly, hold on a second." The tendons in Nia's neck stood out as tension mounted. She turned her back to the room and moved off to the side. "Off the record?"

Polly nodded and switched off the recorder. "Shoot."

"It's started." She didn't need to say anything else. Her message was loud and clear.

A grimace tightened the seam of Polly's lips. Her cheeks puffed out as she breathed heavily. "Gotcha. Go take care of alerting everyone who'll be affected by this volley. I'll handle getting the word out to all media outlets. We'll talk later."

Nia disconnected the call and dropped her chin to her chest, summoning the same level of calm she'd nudged Barry with only moments ago.

The buzz of activity reached fever pitch around her. The Inst.i.tute's techs were busy alerting everyone who needed a heads-up. Nia quickly dialed her NASA contact.

Ken Hillerman answered on the first ring. "Did you capture it?" he asked without preamble.

"We did."

"We'll want playback as soon as you can send it."

"Sure. Ken, the wave is moving fast. It will be on us shortly. Has the NSA been notified?"

"The Deputy Director is on the phone with them now. The Director is on the phone with the president."

Nia hoped the president understood the enormity of the situation. Science hadn't been his strong suit.

Bradley raced to her side and shoved a paper into her hands. Tucking the phone into the nook between her shoulder and ear, she held the printout aloft. "f.u.c.k it all. Ken, we're predicting ma.s.sive disruptions. The wave will hit Europe first, before moving to Asia, and then to North and South America." A burst of static cranked up in her ear. She waited until it pa.s.sed before continuing. "Satellites, solar arrays, you name it, functions will be disrupted."

"We concur."

"We're going to switch to the low Earth orbital satellites to maintain a line of communication. I'll be reachable via this route." She spewed out the coordinates and the number of the Inst.i.tute's LEO sat-phone.

Before hanging up, Ken lowered his voice. "Nia?"

She heard a hesitant note in his tone. "Yeah?"

"You'll need the name of your new liaison. As of tomorrow you'll need to speak to Jenny McGraw."

"Why do I need a new contact?"

"I'm leaving the agency."

"You can't go. We work together so d.a.m.n well." He'd been her contact for over three years.

"I...uh, I took a new research position in the private sector. But you'll like Jenny. She's easy to work with and smart as a whip."

"You picked a b.l.o.o.d.y awful time to make your announcement."

"I know. I am sorry. But I'm sure our paths will cross in the future."

"I hope so." She sincerely meant that. She'd enjoyed working with Ken on several projects. Their minds worked in the same manner. Bradley shouted her name, distracting her. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of time to ask the host of questions flitting through her mind. "Ken, I'm sorry, I really have to go. Good luck to you."

"Stay safe, Nia."

"You, too."

The lights flickered in the observatory, but surged back to full strength. All around her, the techs scurried about preparing for Armageddon. Nia prayed to the G.o.ddess it wouldn't be as bad as she expected.

Chapter 4.

By some miracle, the wave dissipated significantly by the time it reached Earth. As if its course had been altered by a large obstacle in its path. From what Nia could glean from the readouts and data collected, whatever the wave had flowed around had acted the way a rock in a stream did, redirecting the flow of water.

There were still disruptions in communication services and feeds from satellites. But somehow, they'd dodged a much larger bullet hurtling toward their little blue planet. It was a head scratcher for sure.

Nia left the observatory, and headed toward her office. As she approached her closed door, the air pressure in the hallway closed in around her, like a giant hug from invisible arms. The disturbance was a good indication that one of her relatives had just materialized directly into her office. Zeus stood framed in the window when she entered.

After a fast peek up and down the hallway to ensure no one else was around, she eased the door shut. "Dad, did you have something to do with the wave missing Earth?"

"I sent Atlas. He managed to slow and redirect most of the impact. Half went harmlessly into s.p.a.ce. Unfortunately, the other half of the pulse reached the moon's surface."

"Aw, c.r.a.p. What's the impact?" Changes in the moon would still affect the tides.

"Atlas apologizes profusely, but apparently, the orbit has been altered."

Nia's world spun drunkenly. "The moon's...o...b..t? That's bad." And wasn't that the understatement of the century. It could be catastrophic. She put her hand on her father's arm. "Take me to the observation deck."

Mist built around them, increasing the pressure on her chest as Zeus moved them through time and s.p.a.ce. In the Hollow, everything lost form, including their bodies. Instead, they became auras. Zeus's aura was purple, for the royalty he was, with a vibrant red glow in the center of his chest where a mortal's heart would reside. Nia knew her aura was sky blue, with pinp.r.i.c.ks of white light dotting her entire torso. In the ether, she resembled an early morning sky.

The mist thinned as they moved out of the void to the concrete patio outside. They hovered two inches above the surface momentarily. Before Zeus cleared the misty illusion, he checked the area to be sure they were alone. It wouldn't do to just appear next to unsuspecting mortals.

The coast was clear, so Zeus lowered them to the ground and heaved out a breath, blowing the mist into oblivion. As soon as she was stabilized on solid ground, Nia raced to one of the telescopes they'd installed so the general public could stargaze. She'd have preferred to use her more powerful refracting lens in the observatory, but the room was still crowded with workers. This would have to do.

Without even looking Nia could tell the angle of light reflecting off the moon was wrong. It confirmed Zeus's information: the orb was definitely out of place. A mere mortal might not discern the difference, but she was the Muse of Astronomy. She knew.

The scant difference in the trajectory was going to unleash mayhem on the population.

She swung the telescope in a half-circle until the lens was trained on the moon. Or rather, where it should be. She adjusted the positioning and located her target.

They were in the new moon phase of the lunar cycle, and the sliver of bright light was inches below its normal position in the August sky. And inches, as seen through the telescope, translated to thousands of miles in s.p.a.ce.

"This is bad. Really bad," she mumbled. Taking a step back from the viewing scope, she gestured for Zeus to look.

He moved forward and stooped to look through the eyepiece. "When is the next full moon?"

"In three weeks." Nia wove her arms across her body, attempting to control the shivers darting through her. "This is it, isn't it? This is Pierus's challenge. It's my turn."

Zeus straightened and then curled his hand over her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Do not jump to conclusions, daughter. It could simply be an act of nature."

"Dad, that ejection was record shattering. We haven't ever experienced anything even close to the magnitude of today's event. This has all the hallmarks of Pierus's sneaky challenge."

"It seems likely," Zeus conceded with a frown. "Have any of your sisters received any communication from him?"

"I've spoken to Callie, but she hadn't heard. Dad, there was a magpie outside my window right before the solar eruption." Dread trailed like a cold, dead hand up her spine. She repressed a shudder.

Zeus closed his eyes. In Nia's mind, his voice boomed, summoning all of his children and Mars, Olympus's Security Chief, to a meeting at the Athenian the next afternoon. His message came with the not-so-subtle push to be on time.

The directive rattled around her head, pinging loudly. Nia pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm standing right here, Dad. You could have just told me out loud."

"I was merely following the advice of Virgo. Your sister, Callie, has decreed I'm not very efficient and unleashed the Virgin's unique style of organization on me." Zeus shook his head. "I don't like it very much."

"I know why. A little clutter never hurt anyone."

"Callie insists if you'd lived a less hectic life, you'd have made sure Stonehenge was in the right location."

"I can't apologize anymore for something that happened thousands of years ago."

"It is your fault we have leap years. She isn't likely to ever let you forget that."