"I don't think we have that much time," Dr. Harriman said. "We have two huge objects hurtling toward us. Even if the s.p.a.ce station burns up completely and the meteor cracks in half and one whole half fragment ..."

"Even then?" Ambrose Young questioned.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Harriman confirmed. "I'm estimating it will reach our atmosphere in another two days and then it will be another two days from the time it reaches our atmosphere to the time it hits us."

Grace's skin went icy with terror and a nausea began to swirl in her belly. This was it then. No one would escape this.

In a mere four days - maybe a day more, maybe a day less - they would all die.

Grace turned toward Dr. Harriman's device as her father's voice came on. "Jonathan. Can I speak to Grace a moment?"

Dr. Harriman handed Grace his device and Grace peered down at her serious-faced father on the screen. "Grace, you know how much we all love you," he began. "I wish we could be together right now. This isn't what we planned."

"I know, Dad," Grace answered as tears welled in her eyes. "I love you, too. I'll be all right. I have good friends here." Tearfully, Grace spoke to her mother, James, and Kim.

"Grace," her mother signed off by kissing her fingers and touching them to the screen. Grace did the same as the screen went dark. The idea that she would never see any of them again caused a deep pain in the pit of her stomach. Her mind wouldn't accept it, as much as she knew she should face the facts.

"Okay, everybody," David Young spoke in a no-nonsense tone. "I was just out with Jack and Allyson. Let's get out and tell everyone what we just now heard. Anyone who's brave enough to try a swing-lo, go out there now and get a flying lesson if you need one. Anyone with Postman experience, please go first."

"Why even bother?" Allyson asked in a despairing tone.

"Because there's a chance," David Young answered.

"Is there, Dr. Harriman?" Allyson asked. "Is there any chance at all?"

"There's always a chance things will not happen as predicted. Right now we don't have all the information," Dr. Harriman answered. "The armed forces might be working on something, a way to move the meteor and the s.p.a.ce station out into the ocean. They might be firing nukes at it to blow it apart, though I don't want to think about the kind of nuclear winter that will cause. All these factors make the outcome uncertain."

"So there's a chance we might survive," Kayla surmised.

"There's always a chance," Dr. Harriman repeated.

"I say let's get out to the swing-los," Jack said. "We might as well go out fighting."

A murmur of agreement swept through the group and they began to head toward the front of the cave. Eric came alongside Grace and put his arm around her. "What do you think?" he asked.

"There's no sense just sitting and waiting for the end," she said.

Eric smiled at Grace as she wiped her eyes. "Let's do this together," he suggested. "Hopefully we won't have to parachute out this time."

"I think I should drive on my own," Grace countered. "There aren't that many people who've even been in one before. At least I have that much experience." Grace wasn't sure she could do it and was frightened, but another part of her was thrilled at the idea of trying.

Grace adjusted the brim of her cap so that it sat above her dark sungla.s.ses. The soaked washcloth she'd wrapped around her neck was drying quickly in the blistering sun, and she hoped she'd have a chance to wet it again before flying her swing-lo across the desert.

Seeing her family again had made her long to be with them. But hearing their tender words had lifted a weight from her heart. At least she knew where they were and they had said their good-byes, if that's what it would come to.

The swing-los were parked in a line of twelve outside a wooden lean-to Allyson and Jack had been using as a workshop. With the sun reflecting off their sides, the crafts appeared sleeker and more state-of-the art than ever before.

Katie's tractor trailer was parked nearby. She stood in back with the doors open. Behind her were stacks of boxes filled with emergency supplies: water, food, first-aid kits.

"Ordinarily each swing-lo can carry two people, but today we're using only one pilot to each vehicle so that you can load the pa.s.senger seat with these supplies," Allyson told the group of pilots that she and Jack had selected and given a quick training session. Grace joined the others in loading her craft with the boxes.

"Do we have cloaking technology on these now?" Eric asked.

"It's installed but because of these solar flares I can't get it to work," Jack replied.

Grace's swing-lo was parked beside the one Eric intended to fly. "Do you think what we're doing will make any difference?" Grace asked skeptically.

Eric continued to stack his boxes as he spoke. "The s.p.a.ce station will break up when it hits the atmosphere and will probably crash all around us in pieces. And, like Dr. Harriman said, the meteor might split apart, but still ... when that hits ..." He let his voice trail off ominously.

Grace shut her eyes and let her mind go blank. She didn't want to envision - even in her imagination - the disasters his unspoken words implied. If the meteor hit the Pacific, then a large part of the ocean was going to end up crashing into the coasts. And that was the best-case scenario. Maybe the tidal wave would be contained by the various mountain ranges in its path but it would all depend on the force and size of the tsunami.

"Do you think the armed forces will come out? Can the navy do anything?" Grace asked.

"Who knows?" Eric answered, coming around beside her. He held her in his arms and she laid her head on his chest. His heart pounded and he tightened his grip in a way she found rea.s.suring. "Grace, I'm glad we're going to be together, whatever happens. You've come to mean so much to me."

Grace looked up at him. "I feel the same."

He smiled at her and brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. "I love you, Grace."

His words brought emotional tears to her eyes, a mix of happiness and something else. She couldn't name the something else. Maybe it was being overwhelmed by feelings - to have found something so precious as his love and to know that there would be no real time for them to be together - it was so confusing.

"I love you, too, Eric," Grace said, knowing it was so. They leaned toward each other and kissed. For a moment, the world went away. There was no Global-1, no prophecy, no tidal wave crashing toward them. For a moment Grace let herself imagine that this was happening in her backyard as she had hoped it would not so very long ago.

When the kiss was done, they slowly parted, still looking at each other. "We'd better get going," Eric said, finally. "Are you going to be all right flying that thing?"

"Of course," Grace replied, wishing that the confidence in her tone was sincere and not the false bravado that it really was. She hoped she could remember Jack's quick instructions, which, at the moment, she recalled as only a blur of words.

Pushing these worries aside, Grace climbed into the pilot's seat of the c.o.c.kpit. The new, improved swing-lo had a streamlined dashboard that rose with three-dimensional holographic controls when she waved her hand across its rectangular screen. Its steering mechanism was gone, replaced with finger-touch technology. Its engine purred to life when she activated the controls as Jack had showed her, and the craft elevated smoothly to about three feet above the ground.

Grace stole a glance at Eric, who hovered beside her. He smiled and shot her a thumbs-up. "Final level, huh!" he remarked.

Grinning, she nodded.

"All right, everyone," Allyson spoke loudly to the group. "Remember not to take these too high. The last model cracked up at a thousand feet. We're pretty sure they can now climb to about thirteen hundred feet, but we're not positive. At no higher than eight hundred feet, any of these b.u.t.tes and mesas should be possible landing platforms if you don't want to come all the way down. Good luck and remember to meet us at Monument Valley by the formation called The Thumb when you're done. We're going to meet with the tribal elders there. At least we'll all see this through together."

Grace slid her finger up the side of the orange holographic bar and the craft rose ten feet in the air. Immediately her swing-lo tilted so far to the right that Grace gripped its sides. The auto-correct kicked in, placing her back into a horizontal equilibrium.

"Don't worry, you're doing better than most," Eric said as he hovered at her side. Gazing in the direction he was pointing, she saw that the other ten pilots were having an initial rough start, some spinning in circles, others jerking abruptly up and down, still others lurching forward and back.

Eric whizzed off to help other struggling new pilots while Grace practiced flying at three feet around the desert floor. Before long she felt a new confidence and rose two feet higher and flew faster. Soon she was ready to elevate even higher.

Smiling with the pleasure of near-mastery, Grace maneuvered the swing-lo in a swirling, pretzel-like pattern, dipping around and under in arching curves. Pressing down on the purple bar of the holographic accelerator, she sped out away from the group into the desert, traveling at fifteen feet above the ground. She set the navigator toward Sedona, Arizona. She would stop along the way and offer one of her supply boxes, telling the people what she knew, inviting them to join the others in Monument Valley at The Thumb. The higher ground they could make, the better.

As Grace flew, she was filled with a joyful, almost desperate exhilaration. If these were going to be the last hours of her life, then she could think of no better way of spending them than flying free as a bird on the most exciting adventure of her life.

For the next three days, Grace worked to perfect her skills as a swing-lo pilot. The training went well; she seemed to have a natural apt.i.tude for it. She didn't think any of the fleet, except Jack, Allyson, and possibly Eric were any better than she was now. It wasn't just her opinion. They all said so.

She was grateful to have the flying to concentrate on. If she'd only been sitting and waiting for the end to come, she was sure she'd have lost her mind to fear and anxiety before the actual event even occurred. But maybe she wouldn't have, she considered. Spending this time with Eric, both knowing it might be the only time they would ever have, made the days sweet in a strange, unexpected way.

Who would have thought that the last days of the world would turn out to be the best days of her life?

Now she was on her way into Monument Valley, flying just above the highway with the bubble-top open. The heat had become so intense that no one could bear to close the clear dome over themselves. As the yellow sky began to fade back into dusk, Grace touched the tip of her nose and cringed with pain. Despite the coverage of her cap and a liberal smear of sun block, it was badly sunburned.

Hours spent flying across the desert, stopping only to talk with people in Sedona and then the village of Chinle had left her skin burned and her muscles aching but her mood uplifted. She felt useful, and knowing that Global-1 couldn't track her because of their signal jams made her feel free for the first time in weeks. She hadn't realized how much having the tracker nan.o.bots in her bloodstream had depressed her, made her feel like a trapped animal.

On her way into Monument Valley, she saw Global-1 mining trucks rumbling along the highway, their cloaking devices no longer functional. It seemed strange that they were working despite everything that was happening in the world.

Her monitor indicated that another swing-lo was behind her. In a little while she saw it was Eric who was piloting it. Slowing so he could come alongside her, she saw that his expression was serious.

"It's happened, Grace!" He shouted to be heard over the wind and engine noise. "The meteor has. .h.i.t the Pacific Ocean at San Diego. A thousand-foot tsunami is traveling at two hundred miles an hour and is headed our way."

One by one the twelve swing-los appeared in the valley, hovering alongside one another. "We have to bring as many people as we can up to the ridges and mesas," Eric told the others.

The group flew to The Thumb, where the Tribal Council was gathered. The members of Decode and the Drakians had joined the tribal elders there. The pilots loaded them two at a time into their swing-los, which shimmied with the added weight of an extra load.

"Take Chief Russell," Eutonah said when Grace stopped for her. "I'll stay down here to help load." As the elderly chief climbed in, Grace saw that Kayla, Mfumbe, Allyson, and Jack were helping guide people into the crafts. David Young and his father were also lending a hand.

Dr. Harriman approached Grace, gripping his handheld invention. "This device is still working," he told her. "I've been able to alert government officials in Denver, Salt Lake City, and Spokane."

"Get in," Grace urged him. "Maybe it will be easier the higher you go."

The swing-lo tipped as Dr. Harriman climbed aboard, squeezing next to Chief Russell. It shimmied ominously but then adjusted and began to slowly ascend. The shaking grew increasingly violent as they neared the top of West Mitten b.u.t.te. Grace's gauge read 5,597 feet above sea level. This was higher than she should be going. But the other swing-los were managing it, though also shaking badly.

For hours, Grace and her companions worked to bring the Tribal Council, Decode workers, and Drakians up. The last yellow of the sky was fading into darkness as the pilots hovered in a group, scanning the canyon floor, searching for anyone they might have missed.

Above the hum of the crafts, Grace slowly detected an unfamiliar sound. A low roar was approaching from somewhere. The others heard it, stretching up high in their crafts to hear better.

Grace caught Eric's eye and he nodded, telling her he was thinking the same thing she was: It was here.

Below, water glistened, reflecting the full moon as it seeped into the valley.

Global-1 trucks began to rumble down Highway 163 as workers realized what was happening and tried to flee.

Grace's swing-lo began to vibrate until the shaking traveled into her body, making her bones buzz with the sensation, her teeth chatter uncontrollably.

The rumbling roar grew into a deafening blast.

And then it appeared. A thousand foot wall of water rolled in from the west.

On the ground, Global-1 workers had climbed onto their trucks and machinery. Waving their arms at the swing-los, they shouted to be rescued.

Without thinking, Grace swooped down and took on two men. The others were immediately behind her, picking up as many of the stranded workers as they could manage.

A seam of Grace's craft vibrated loose, pulling apart in an ever widening gap as she went down a second time for another couple of workers. No, no! she thought desperately. Hold on just a little longer, she coaxed the craft as though it were a living being she could urge on.

As she traveled back up with another group, Grace was pelted with water. In a minute the tidal wave would engulf them. Depositing the workers on the mesa, Grace saw that Eric had zoomed down to get two more.

Was he crazy? There was no time to bring them back up!

His ship was wobbling horribly.

The two pa.s.sengers were thrown free of the craft. In the next second, Eric's swing-lo flew apart, its pieces flying in every direction.

At the same moment, the gigantic wave hit, tossing him into the air, arms and legs sprawled.

"No!" Grace shouted as she watched from above.

Setting the controls into a steep dive, she flew down. By the time she neared him, Eric was in the water, struggling to keep his head above but being driven under by the force of the surge. As Grace came above the driving wave, her craft was tossed away as though it were no more than a feather.

It was no use. She would never reach him.

The gap in her swing-lo was widening. If it pulled completely apart, the craft would be destroyed just as Eric's swing-lo had been.

The parachutes! Every swing-lo had one. But that couldn't help them now.

Grace reached under her seat for her chute as a new idea came to her. Unfurling it, she let the parachute and its lines drop. Coming as low as she could manage, she dragged the chute to Eric, who floundered in the water.

He grabbed and missed repeatedly. It was just too far up.

Desperate to reach him, Grace threw her weight onto the side of swing-lo, tipping it to such a steep pitch that she had to grip the side to keep from being thrown overboard.

The nylon chute skimmed the top of the wave and Eric caught it. Pulling herself back into the c.o.c.kpit, Grace ran her fingers up the holographic bar and the craft lifted.

Tremendous winds generated by the tsunami swirled around them, keeping Grace's swing-lo from climbing, blowing it sideways instead.

The gap widened and Grace clutched at it with both hands, struggling to keep the craft together by the desperate strength in her arms. A gust caught the ship from the side and pitched it into the side of the b.u.t.te, smashing it against the rock wall.

The lines of the parachute snagged against a rock ledge as Grace tumbled into the chute.

Hanging there breathless, just above the level of the rising flood, Grace saw that the lines Eric had clung to were now underwater.

"Eric!" she shouted down.

Seeing no sign of him, she searched the racing flood waters. Had he been thrown loose? Swept away?

In the next minute, Eric emerged, climbing up the battered parachute.

Grace had never seen a more wonderful sight.

Hoping that the parachute would not come loose from the rock wall, Grace also pulled herself arm over aching arm, the wet nylon slipping and cutting into her skin, until she was able to pull herself onto the ledge. Eric was quickly beside her.

Peering upward, they saw the people on the rock, looking down. They were safely above the water.

Eric enfolded Grace in his arms, and she clung to him, both of them exhausted from the effort of climbing, huddled there on the rocky ledge.

Grace opened her eyes to see that the red and pink sky was streaked with vivid blue as the sun rose. The garish yellow of the last days had faded back to a lemony glow. She had fallen asleep in Eric's arms, both of their backs propped against a boulder. He still slumbered beside her. They were both bruised and disheveled, but alive. She remembered everything that had happened, including being transported to the mesa top by Jack who came to get them in a swing-lo.

Leaning forward, Grace was amazed to see that the violent energy of the tsunami had subsided into rolling waves that crashed just below the top of the mesa. The s.p.a.ce was crowded with people. Looking across to East Mitten b.u.t.te, she saw that many people were crowded onto its top, as well.