Marcy looked like she was about to break down.  Tears were welling. “I asked a few but I just couldn't bring myself to personally talk to them all.  Most were confused or non-committal.  Some felt like they needed to make some sort of closure with home.”

    Alex said, “people need time to think but I believe that they should be counseled to call home if possible.”

    It was Marilyn's turn to speak up.  She had remained silent through most of the discussions.  “I would like to volunteer to work the communications links and talk to the crew people individually.  I believe we must make a major effort to get through to families.”  Marilyn left the meeting without a further remark and went to her quarters.  She let herself in and crouched on her sleeping bag trying to get her head right for what she had just volunteered to do.  Just how does one go about counseling people who are about to deal with the actual end of the world.  She spent two hours mulling this over.  It finally came to her, the memory of what a psychologist had once written, one whose name she could not recall, “The world is created the day we are born and ends the day we die.”  This was the reality for most.  She decided she would have to deal with it on those terms.

    A routine was set up and Marilyn met with each member of the crew and got details about family and friends and their possible locations.  It was impossible to know what was happening to people downside.  It was surely true that many would not be able to communicate.  The last word from MOM and LEO was that communications were becoming chaotic and, more ominously, silent at times.  Also the Moon and the Low Earth Orbital station were not necessarily in the mood to place these communications high on their priority lists.  They had their own desperate problems.

    In particular, LEO was fast approaching the conclusion that the station might very well not survive if debris or atmospheric heating were to bring it down.  The hundreds stationed there would not survive any better than the earthbound populations.  They really could not even guess how awful it would be.  Nothing of this magnitude had ever occurred in the solar system since the beginnings of planetary formation.  Levy - Schumaker had left Earth sized black spots on Jupiter but it was an ordinary comet, not even one percent as large as the monster bearing down on Earth.

    Eventually, after three days of effort, Marilyn was able to establish contact between fifteen  of the crew and their loved ones.  No one had very much to say.  It was a very painful process, a little like visiting a family member  in a hospice bed.  Some of the news that managed to leak through these very personal contacts included the picture that all over the world people seem to be engaged in life as more or less normal and ongoing with one exception.  Everyone seemed to be spending more and working less - a little like having a last fling.  There were those that didn't know what was happening , those that knew but somehow didn't believe it, and the small minority that knew exactly what was about to take place and had taken the attitude much like the patient who is entering the hospital for a serious life threatening operation and knows that events are beyond his control and therefore there was no point in panic.

    What had really begun to happen on Earth was the rapid breakdown of the societal infra-structure.  Government offices were often closed or were totally non-responsive.  Electric power outages were not repaired, fires in the larger cities often just burned themselves out.  Many stopped going to club meetings or to church.  A lot of businesses didn't open on time or not at all.  Airline schedules were virtually non existent.  Food shortages did not seem severe because time really was growing very short.  Most had something in the pantry.

    Marilyn's contacts were voice only.  The needed bandwidth for full video was not available and most of the crew actually didn't want it.  There were four cases of abrupt termination of the contact by the Earth relative because of uncontrollable anger and resentment.  A hundred plus would live and seven billion would die.  It really didn't seem fair.

    While Marilyn was pursuing the somber business of Earth contacts Marcy was preparing to make a thorough inspection of the hydroponics sections which she had neglected in the flurry of  concern over settling accounts with Earth.  On day minus six she awoke early and after a quick snack in the dining module headed for the four sections of Jupiter Station that housed the food supply and atmosphere regeneration facility.

    She entered the first module and was assaulted by what she had come to love, the warm humid rich smell that she knew as everyone's life sustenance.  Slowly pushing her way down the rows of plants she checked each and every plant and its water and nutrient lines.  She had only made her way through half of the first unit's growth when she began to experience a sense of vague uneasiness.  Something was wrong but she couldn't put her finger on it.   She was going to have to get a hold of Rodney and see if she couldn't work out what it was that was bothering her.  He was supposed to be on duty.  Maybe he was in the next section.

    She finished up in the first ponics section and pushed her way through the hatch into the second.  She had begun to resolve her feelings of unease.  It had something to do with the appearance of the wheat that she had just inspected.  Somehow the heads did not seem as large as usual and the leaves had just a tinge of yellow that they should not have had.  She had talked with Rodney about the trace elements.  She presumed he had corrected the matter or had  tried some alternative solutions.  He was the one who had the dirt farm training .

    As she began her inspection of the second module she glimpsed a figure through the foliage at the end of the module.  It must be Rodney.  “Rodney, We need to talk.”

    He didn't reply.  Maybe he hadn't heard.  She pushed on down the row towards him.  He had his back to her and seemed not to have heard her.  He was preoccupied.  He had some large device in his hands.  It didn't look like ponics gear.

    “Rodney, We need to talk.”

    Rodney turned then and looked at Marcy without speaking.  He had an odd look about him.

CHAPTER 12 - Rodney
     Marcy began, “Rodney, The wheat doesn't look good in number one.  Do you have any ideas?”

    A strange smile flickered across Rodney's face, “Yes, I have a few ideas.”

    “Well?”  Marcy said.

    “I don't think we will be needing the wheat.”  said Rodney.

    Marcy frowned.  What was going on here?  Rodney was sort of an oddball at times but this didn't seem very reasonable.  Maybe the events earthside were beginning to get to him.  He had been very quiet in all of their crew meetings.  Marcy decided to do something she never had done before.  She took a rather stern and authoritative tone with him.  “Rodney, I have to know what procedures you have been using in the ponics modules.  Please give me details on the maintenance procedures you have been using.”

    This seemed to shake Rodney back  to a more normal demeanor, “What do you mean procedures?  I just do what we always have done.  I cut the grain and pick the fruit and vegetables and recycle the residue from the plants.  I set the water and nutrient flows to within the parameters that have been established here for the ten years we've been here.”  He sounded just a little pained and arrogant.  His expertise was being questioned.  After all he was a graduate of “Ole Miss.”

    Marcy heaved a sigh, “Could you show me just how you do these operations.  I am not accusing you of doing them wrong.  It's just that we have to run each of us that works here in the ponics section through their daily routines in detail.  You must realize that this is not just an experiment anymore.  This is our world.  Maybe the only world we will know for the rest of our lives.  Please, let us step through the water and nutrient procedures.”

    Rodney was not happy but he grudgingly led Marcy down the aisle carefully setting the water and nutrient valves and checking the readings on the myriad of instruments imbedded in the tanks.  Marcy was satisfied that he had done a good job in this regard and began to search her mind for other causes of the apparent problems with the wheat.  On their way to the lock at the far end Rodney casually plucked some dead and dying plants from their racks and carried them for disposal in the recycler.  This was a daily and constant routine and was entirely unconscious on his part.  He lifted the lid of the recycler at the end to dispose of the items in his hand and started through the hatch to the next section.  Suddenly a blinding light penetrated Marcy’s consciousness.

    “Rodney, stop.  You put those leaves and roots in the wrong recycler bin.”

    Rodney turned back, a puzzled look on his face, “Wrong!  What do you mean?  What's wrong?”

    “Rodney, you put the plant residue in the red  recycler.”  Marcy began to feel real panic now. “How long has this been going on.”  There was a twinge of anger in her voice.

    Rodney did not like her tone, “I do my work here perfectly I do not like what you are implying.  What difference does it make which bin I use.”  He had blanched and his face had the quality of stone.

    Rodney brushed past her and went back to the other end of the module where she had first encountered him.  Marcy followed trying to collect her thoughts on how to deal with someone that she now had begun to suspect was truly psychotic. “Rodney,” she began in a more conciliatory tone, “You do know that the green bins and the red ones lead to separate recycling systems.  The green system is specially designed to extract and preserve the  trace elements that we need for healthy crops.  The red one leads into the general system where much of what we need here would be lost.”

    Rodney did not seem to hear her.  He had reached the end of the module and had picked up the machine with which she had first seen him.  He smiled at her as she approached him and raised the business end of the machine and pointed it towards her.  She could now see that it was one of the high power industrial cutting lasers from the machine shop.

    She had to think.  What could she do to get Rodney to put down this machine.  It could easily kill her or even worse could penetrate the walls of the ponic section and precipitate disaster for the whole station.

    “Rodney, Why don't you put down the laser and lets discuss what we might do to get the ponics section back on track.”

    Rodney seemed not to hear her, his eyes glittered and wandered aimlessly around the module.  He held the laser steadily, though.  Finally he began to speak, “Don't you see?  I didn't listen to my Mother and Daddy.  I should have listened to them.  This is the end time.  If we are true believers, you and I, Marcy, we will be taken straight to heaven.  We have come to the time of the rapture.  The end is at hand.  God's vengeance will be wrought upon the sinful world.  Are you a true believer, Marcy?  Will you be taken straight into the Lord's presence with me.  I have prayed - prayed earnestly these last weeks and God has answered me.  I will be saved.  Maybe none of you will.  I have watched the Devil working amongst you all.  Maybe you will escape, Marcy.  Maybe you and I will live forever together with God.  You know that you are not right for John Macefield but you are right for me.  You know that don't you Marcy?”

    Marcy tried to think.  Could she get the weapon away from him?  It didn't seem likely.  He was across a row of plants from her and there was no maneuvering room.  She could hardly launch herself at him with him triggering the high powered cutting tool.  She knew it would slice her in two in an instant and most likely damage the module itself in the process.

    “Marcy!  God has just spoken to me.  He says that it is time for us to join him.  It is time for the rapture and I have only one thing left to do for him.  I must destroy this den of devils before we go.”

    Without another word Rodney turned away from her and swung the laser in a wide arc against the wall of the module pressing hard on the trigger.  The side of the module exploded outward with a fountain of greenery, tubes, plastic, water freezing instantly into a cloud of ice crystals and buried in the mushrooming debris the bodies of Marcy and Rodney.  The last thing that Marcy saw was Rodney's grinning face surrounded by the blackness of space behind him.

CHAPTER 13 - Ponics Three
     Mace and a doubled crew had been working in ops for the last 12 hours straight.  It was difficult to combat the terrible angst that threatened to swallow them and still get the things done that had to be done.  Mace knew that the only record that might remain of this terrible calamity was the one that they would make.  One of the urgent priorities was to set up observing systems to record the impact of the giant meteor.  In addition it was decided after lengthy arguments and discussions with the Moon base that much of the data on their contacts with other worlds would be uploaded to SETI Station for safe keeping.  Helmut Weiss had earlier decided that the Moon base would survive and that it was not necessary to overload SETI Station's memory systems with the terabytes of data that had been collected and downloaded to MOM.  But Mace differed and insisted on restoring much of the data in the stations computers.  Finally an agreement was reached that would provide for a series of burst transmissions to return the data 24 hours before impact.

    Just as Mace was about to call a brief halt to the intense efforts they had all been involved in there was a slight jolt.  It wasn't much but Jesus noticed it.  “Mace, better check the board.  I felt something.  Maybe a small meteor impact.  There could be damage.”

     Mace looked at the station's systems board.  “I can't figure it out.  We've got red lights for module three of the ponics section.”

    Jai, who was the enlisted duty PO in ops, and had the station systems board at his position started a diagnostic routine, “I’ll punch up the scan on hull integrity first.”

    Jai’s face began to sag as he watched his screen, “We've got a problem.  I can't get anything for module three.  It's just as if it wasn't there.  We may have been holed big.”

     Mace blanched, “Medina, get someone over there and find out what's going on and the extent of the damage, if any.”

    Jesus Medina had already messaged his duty replacement in the shop to investigate.  It wasn't five minutes before the answer came.  Medina put it on the speaker:  “Jesus, this is Bob Shore, I am calling from the ponics area.  Unit three is sealed off.  I can't access the module from where I am.  The automatic seals have functioned as they were designed to do and have isolated unit three as well as I can determine.  I could go around and have a look at the other end.  It's a long trip.  What do you want me to do?”

     Medina started to reply but Mace cut him off, “Bob, get back to the shop I'm coming over.  Make sure I've got a suit ready.  I'm going out to see what ‘s going on.”

    Mace pushed away from the ops consoles and exited through the hatch in a hurry.  It was a long journey through the ten modules to get to the shop but he made it in record time.  Ten years in near zero gravity gave him the skills he needed to  negotiate this home of his with consummate skill and grace.  He glided the entire 200 meters without having to touch the corridor walls or hatch frames once.  Shore was waiting for him in the shop and had his suit ready and safety checked as well as one for himself.

    “I think I had better go with you, Mace.” Bob said.

    Mace said nothing but didn't object.  Both of them suited up rapidly and made for the hatch.  Whatever had happened hadn't damaged the station's overall integrity.  Air pressure seemed normal and there had been no power outages, only that brief jar that had been felt, it turned out, throughout the station.  Using their suit jets carefully they made their way out of the shop module and around the end of the station.  What they saw chilled them.  Ponics module three had been holed all right.  The whole side of it had been blown out and all that could be seen inside was a tangle of tubes and racks.  The interior was dark.  The power for the module was gone but it was plain that there was nothing left here that could ever sustain life again.  If it had not been for the robust and redundant design of the station they might all have died with the loss of this unit.  Mace swung around and peered out into the blackness of space.  Very little could be seen of whatever had been inside the module.  He thought he saw the sparkle of a faint cloud of ice in the distance.  That would be the water that was in the system when the side blew.

    Bob had moved closer to the gaping hole in the side of the module.  After a few minutes he turned and gestured to Mace.  Over the intercom, “Mace, you better get down here and have a look.”  After Mace had jetted down to where Bob had secured himself to the jagged edge of the module, Bob pointed to the edge, “What do you make of that?”

     “I don't know.  Most of the rip looks like a pressure tear in the metal.”  Then he noticed the area that Bob was pointing to, “My god,  that looks like a laser cut.”

    “Yeah, I would definitely say so.  And that's not all.  There are laser cuts there, and there, and there.  Somebody  blew this baby up on purpose.”  Bob said.

     Mace swung around and confronted Bob, “Could anyone have got out of the station and maneuvered a laser powerful enough to do this without you or someone else knowing about it?”

    Bob frowned and shook his head inside his helmet, “Not only did no one leave the station, I've been in the shop for the last six hours, the only exit from the station  is in the shop, but a laser powerful enough to do this would have to have been rigged by a crew of three for use outside of the station.  One guy could not have got it out and operating outside.”

    Mace switched to the ops frequency, “Get a roll call immediately.  I want to know if everybody is OK.  Medina, somebody cut up the module with one of your lasers.  Get some people together and inventory every piece of equipment that might have done this job.  And hurry.”  Mace had not had time to think ahead as to what the long term effects of this accident - or crime might be.  The priority was to see if everyone was safe and then to nail the culprit - if there was one.

    The sad news came soon enough.  Two of the station personnel were missing; Rodney Bingham and Marcy Jones.  John Macefield was in a state of shock.  He truly loved Marcy and had assumed that they would make a life together.  He could not accept that she was gone.  Losing the whole Earth was one thing but losing Marcy was even worse.  She was the whole world to him.  He had never given her enough of himself and now she was gone.  There was no question.  She was gone.  Not a trace remained.  She was hundreds of kilometers away, dead, floating endlessly in space.  Who could hide on SETI Station?  And Why?  Who was this Rodney Bingham?  What had he done?  Mace thought he knew all his people pretty well.  It had to be Rodney that had blown the unit.  Maybe it was an accident but he had this awful intuition that it was not.  Rodney was a loner and perhaps a real psycho.  Maybe the end of the world was just too much for him.  That would be no surprise.  How many more of his hundred souls were about to go over the edge?

    The problem now was that there was not time to mourn.  There was too much to do.  What was left of the station had to be secured and assessed for its future capabilities and the observations of the asteroid impact had to chronicled, devastating as that might be.  Mace decided to call a quick staff meeting and get everyone's report.  Seven of the heads of departments or their assistants gathered in ops.  It was a somber meeting.

    Roger Heads, suddenly the chief of ponics, made his report first.  In a halting barely audible voice, “I guess we still have about 75 percent of our system, but we have lost a lot of water and chemicals.  I don't know if it will sustain us.”

     Mace sharply, “It has to.  We'll reactivate the Europa shuttle if necessary.  It probably will be necessary.  You're in charge.  Get used to it."  He turned to Medina.  “What about the overall station system?”

    Medina was not one to doubt what he knew, “We are OK.  All our electrical and recycling systems are intact except for what we lost in three.  I can bypass the broken lines in there and bring the whole station back to full integrity minus the one unit.”

     Mace dismissed the staff and went to his quarters.  He did not have time to grieve and yet he could not avoid it.  Marcy was gone and so was the world.  The horror of it all struck him and he began to weep uncontrollably in his private quarters.  What in hell were they all doing out here?  Where did this damn asteroid come from?  It was not even remotely possible.  This must be some sort of a bad dream.  Wrung out and still weeping he lay in his sleeping bag and drifted off to sleep.

    It was obvious to Alex Krakovsky and to most of the other senior staff that Mace could not carry on as director in his present state with only hours to go before the inevitable destruction of the planet Earth.  The beautiful blue marble in the sky was not even visible by naked eye from SETI Station but was most definitely present to each and everyone's inner eye.  Alex took over and set the tone for these last few hours.

    “We have to observe and record.  We do not know what will actually happen.  Everyone here has a job and before this is all over we will all be plenty tired.  It is obvious that Mace cannot function at peak now so I will coordinate.  Any objections?”

    There were none so Alex was the interim director.  No one felt it was necessary to inform MOM, LEO, or Earth headquarters, most of who would soon cease to exist.  For Alex this was a Pyhric victory and one he did not specially relish.  The price was too high and his natural Russian emotional response to the world did not fail at this juncture.  He too began to weep, but only inwardly, and he soon regained control and shouted orders to all present in a very gruff tone, occasionally breaking into Russian. In the back of his mind was the awful thought that something could just as easily take Natasha from him.

CHAPTER 14 - Armageddon
     At the United Nations Space Agency discipline still held for just a few.  Charles and Jeanette had decided to ask a very large favor of Sir Henry.  Dr. Watson, the head of UNSA had, for all practical purposes, disappeared, and Sir Henry Bolton had acceded to the position by default.  No one had challenged this defacto change of command.  Who would?  It was all but over for most of them.  Sadly, most of the staff at UNSA were foreign and far from home and would have to meet their most assured destruction far from their loved ones.  This weighed heavily on the souls of most of them.  Sir Henry with his usual stoicism and good English humor managed to maintain a modicum of discipline in those closest about him.

     It was doomsday minus two.  Sir Henry sat in the nearly deserted building housing not only the UNSA but also the offices of the United Nations itself looking out over the East River.  It was an especially bright day.  There was practically no haze or smog.  He mused; no one was out and about.  Saving fuel.  That was good - good for the environment.  What irony!  A knock at his door.  “Come," he said.

    Charles and Jeanette both entered.  Sir Henry looked up and smiled.  He had an inkling what was in store.  He had seen the signs of this budding of love between these two very unlikely lovers.  He had no idea what he could do for them but he had a suspicion that they had something in mind.

    “Sir Henry,” Charles started, “We - That is I - Uh" For some reason Charles was having difficulty getting started.  He had to convince Sir Henry of the wisdom of his plan.  He certainly had made a bad start of it.  He began again, “Sir Charles, I have determined that it is important that someone make as complete a record of the effects of this asteroid strike as is possible.  I have assembled the necessary equipment and have detailed a plan of operation that I think will be crucial in providing information to future survivors or to those on the Moon or Jupiter Station.”

    Sir Henry smiled, “And how is this plan to work.  Who is to carry it out and from where?”

    Charles stammered again, “I believe it will be necessary for me to get to LEO and install and supervise the observations.  I need to get there as soon as possible, of course.”

    “Don't they have all the necessary equipment and brains on LEO?”  Bolton knew that Charles would have an answer to this.  This was all just a ruse in the name of survival - survival of love.  And why not?  Was not love more important than anything else?

    “Well, No.  I have some geophysical sensors that have been in development.  LEO has been commercially oriented for a long time.  They don't have the research people there at all.  We - I need to go at the earliest opportunity.  We haven't much time.”  Charles pleaded.

    Bolton chuckled, “Yes I see your point.  Well you will need some assistance.  I suggest you take Jeanette with you.  She is excellent at management and has experience in handling the administrative side of technical matters as well as knowing all the LEO station personnel.”

    The relief on both their faces was almost embarrassing.  “There is only one shuttle scheduled to go to LEO in the next 12 hours.  That will leave us little enough time after we get there," said Charles.

    So the decision was made and Charles and Jeanette made their way by private car to the Long Island shuttle launch site over deserted streets and throughways.  The shuttle was scheduled to take supplies but no personnel.  In fact the availability of this last shuttle had been kept secret to prevent unpleasant rivalry between high level officials trying to get off the Earth at the last minute.  After much argument and several radio calls from Sir Henry the skeleton crew that remained at the site grudgingly made accommodation for Charles and Jeanette.  This basically consisted of a space suit for each and a cramped space among the cargo - no food - no entertainment - no mobility - absolute inaction for the six hours the trip was to take.

    The shuttle launch was completely under the control of computers and was uneventful.  There were no windows and no communications.  For both of them it felt like taking a trip in a coffin.  Jeanette was panic stricken for a few moments after the rockets shut down.  She had the uncanny feeling that she had died.  It was dark.  She was weightless.  There was not a sound, no creaking, no sign of Charles.  She was even unaware of her own breathing.  She began to think that the end of the world had indeed come and that this was what came after.

     Eventually there was the roaring sound in the ship of the maneuvering rockets and the feeling of slight weight as the shuttles matched velocity with LEO.  A slight bump and she knew that they had docked.  She wondered if anyone aboard LEO knew that they were coming.  It was only minutes before a flood of light struck her in the face and she knew that the hatches had been opened.  A smiling and unsuited face appeared and reached out a hand to help her out of the tiny space that she had lain in for the past six hours.  Life was not over yet.  She wondered how Charles had fared.  She couldn't see him in the cramped compartment where she was being assisted out of the space suit.

    Charles and Jeanette sped through the preparations that had to be made to gather the data needed.  Sensors were deployed on the many available stations outside the hull of LEO and the data flow was directed to one of the large processing stations on LEO.  During these few frantic hours Charles looked often and longingly at Jeanette. Plain as she was to most, she was a goddess to him.  The intent look on her face, her profile, angular and serious, and her wonderful eyes, these were her glory - to him at least.  Every now and then she caught him staring and gave him a quick smile.  She had become a passable technician and had managed to relieve him of at least half the dog work necessary to get on line with the new sensors and the programs necessary to store the data.  Near the end of their efforts Charles called a halt and asked Jeanette to take a break with him over a cup of coffee.
 “Nette,” he had started calling her this diminutive, mainly because she had “netted” him for sure.  “I have a feeling that what we're doing won't matter much if the data doesn't get to MOM or Jupiter Station.”

    She looked at him with just a little puzzlement, “Why can't we just beam it on from here?”

    “Well, we can, but maybe you've noticed we have been doing quite a bit modifying of the input interface to the computers here.  I don't think either MOM or Jupe will be able to input the data or interpret it once they have received it.”

    Jeanette looked even more puzzled; “I don't get it.  What are we supposed to do?”

    Charles looked down with some confusion and obvious chagrin, “I think we have got to find a way to get to MOM before this station goes down.  The data will be there but unusable.”

    “Why us?” said Jeanette.  “Are we more important to save than any others on this station?”  She seemed a bit angry.  Justifiably so.  Their leaving at the last moment would seem an act of utter cowardice.  She didn't feel like she could stomach that.  Besides there really didn't seem any real way to get away at the last moment.

    “I know how you feel, Nette, and I feel the same way.  That's what makes it so hard but we came here for a purpose.  We have already run from the Earth.  Anyone who did not have the details about what we are up to would have us down for cowards already. “

    Jeanette looked at him very gravely, “Is what we are doing really worth anything at all?  Please explain it to me.  I don't really understand.  Everyone - or nearly everyone - will die in a few hours.  Who will ever looked at what we measure and record?”

    Charles saw that he really had not made the case for what they were doing here.  She was here only for the sake of her love for him.  He knew that there had to be more for her, and he had to explain it - and quickly.  “I guess I will have to go back a few steps.  When this monster strikes the Earth there will be a concentrated explosion equivalent to about 800 billion megatons of nuclear bombs.  This is enough to split the very crust of the Earth.  The shock wave transmitted through the Earth may even split the crust on the opposite side of the globe. Mars shows evidence of such a strike in the past that could have raised Olympus and left the deep Marinarus valley on the opposite side.  At the very least a vast amount of molten debris will be thrown out into space and into the atmosphere.  A considerable fraction of the atmosphere and the oceans may even be blown away into space.  An immense cloud will shroud the Earth for centuries perhaps.  If life survives at all it will be of the most rudimentary form.  It could be thousands or even millions of years before any green would show on the surface.  We really don't know what will happen in detail.  The important thing is that there may be survivors on the Moon or at SETI Station.  If there are, they need to know what happened in as much detail as possible.  Not only will their survival depend on the knowledge we gather but - and this may sound a bit weird - what happened should be broadcast to those places in our galaxy that we have been hearing from.  This sounds altruistic and maybe just plain silly but I believe we have a very important responsibility to life itself, even if we know nothing about that life - its form or even the most rudimentary shape of its thoughts.

    “We already know that something like this may have happened already to a world circling a nearby star.”  Charles subsided looking at his feet with a bright red flush spreading up from his neck.

    Jeanette felt his passion acutely and understood, “Charles, I know now.  I am with you on this.  We will try to make it to MOM or Jupe. We don't have much hope for life anyway so I guess we shouldn't bother about feeling guiltily.”  She stood up abruptly, “Let's get back to work.  We have to beg, borrow, or steal a Moon shuttle before it's too late.  Have you activated the sensor suits?” This practical note pulled Charles out of his funk and he smiled and followed her into the passage that led to the control spaces.

    LEO was a huge structure.  Nearly 400 persons manned the station.  It actually looked a great deal like the wheel in that early movie about space travel produced by Kubric, 2001 - without the music, of course.  It was nearly a kilometer in diameter and spun around its axis sufficiently fast to give it a gravity in the outer rings of about 20% Earth normal.  There were luxurious accommodations for the station personnel and visiting researchers and a myriad of technical facilities that served the various needs of these research personnel. Major portions were devoted to Earth Watch, a system that kept track of the data that impinged directly on the environmental welfare of the planet.  These included ozone, weather patterns, deforestation effects, floods, hurricanes, volcanoes, and large scale contamination. It struck Charles that all this grand design that might have worked so well and was such a harbinger of a wonderful future for Earth was pitifully in vain.  None of it mattered now.

    It took nearly 20 minutes to negotiate the passages that led to the central control space. On arrival they found the commander of the station waiting. George Brendon had been responsibility for this enterprise for the past five years.  He was competent and serious about its function and mission. “Dr. Epcott, I need to speak with you about your work here.”  With a nod he acknowledged the presence of Jeanette. “We went to extraordinary lengths to bring you here and I need to know to what purpose."  His mouth pursed to a thin line. He didn't look angry, just worried and concerned.

    Charles hesitated. He tried to organize his thoughts in such a way that when he spoke he could give Brendon the same feeling of mission that he felt.  He had no way of knowing how Brendon felt about their contacts with other planets or whether he even felt they were important.  “Mr. Brendon. I believe that what we are trying to do here in these last hours may be the only thing that can be done.  There are no longer any choices left.  As far as I can determine the Earth is doomed and probably so is this station. We are much too near the catastrophe to survive.”  Charles hesitated and looked down trying to remember Sir Henry and how he had moved heaven and Earth to get them here. “There are many people, I among them, that believe that the destruction we are about to witness is not uncommon in the Universe, or at least that part of the Universe that we have had the privilege to begin to hear from. It is possible that collisions with large bollides or asteroids are not uncommon in any star system of planets.  In fact it is probably as sure as death and taxes.  Excuse me, a bad metaphor.”  Charles was flustered and stopped, looking up at Brendon, hoping for a bit of sympathetic understanding.

    Brendon gave a wry smile, “I don't believe you have to worry about me.  I have no further plans for my life.  Just tell me what you are doing and what it will do for anyone, here or a few light years away.”

    “If we can produce detailed imagery and energy profiles of every aspect of the collision and get that data off to MOM or Jupiter Station it may be possible in time to transmit that data to other systems or at the least to provide a basis for the resettling of Earth when conditions permit.”

    “Dr. Epcott, I am not a fool. I have read enough about mass extinctions to know better.  This planet will not be habitable in any conceivable time frame.”  Brendon turned and looked out the port at the Earth sweeping slowly past his view, pristine, unscathed.  He blinked to rid his eyes of tears.  “You have carte blanche.  Do whatever you must.”

    Charles agonized, “Mr. Brendon, I have what must seem a very selfish request.  Please try to understand.  We - I must get to the Moon with the equipment and software needed to archive the data for future analysis.  It is a new system and MOM does not have the capability to store and retrieve the information.  ”

    Brendon raised an eyebrow; “I take it that Miss Hopkins is essential to that part of the operation as well.”

    Charles had no response.  He could only stand and stare red faced at the station commander.

    “Listen, Epcott, I am not a fool, as I said before.  Neither am I without feelings.  I have a wife that I love dearly.  I have children, and would you believe, even grandchildren.  They are all down on Earth and have only hours to live.  There may be a chance to get off this death trap but it will be up to you and Miss Hopkins to manage the details.  I have no idea what is entailed in your getting your equipment and data organized to get away.  The best I can do is to inform you that there is a supply packet scheduled to leave for MOM momentarily.  It can be held for you but you have to figure when and how to get aboard with your gear.  It will be another ride in a space suit I fear.”

    George Brendon wished them well and left the control center.  This was the last time that Charles and Jeanette were to set eyes on him.  There was a lot to do and very little time.  The Nemesis was within hours of its fateful intersection with Earth.  If anyone had the opportunity to look it could even be seen by naked eye at this point in time.

    It is not known who, if anyone, had the opportunity to see the event with their own eyes.  It was, of course, observed and recorded by Charles instruments and the instruments on SETI Station.  MOM, being over the limb of the Moon was simply not set up for Earth observations.  The images obtained from SETI Station would have precious little detail.  Only Charles’ instruments would have the maximum amount of information that could be obtained

     The orbit of LEO was highly inclined to the equator to allow maximum coverage of the surface of the Earth for its various Earthwatch projects.  The peninsula of Yucatan was near the horizon when the killer asteroid arrived.  If there had been eyes to see they would have seen the object moving rapidly toward the surface and an angle of about 60 degrees to the vertical.  It entered the outer fringes of the atmosphere at about 100 kilometers elevation and began to immediately glow as its surface was heated to a white heat.  For about two seconds the object escalated rapidly in brightness from orange to yellow to and intense bluish white.  Heat conduction, ablation, and vaporization were totally inadequate to carry away the enormous frictional energy so that in the instant before impact it blazed with a surface temperature hatter than that of the sun.

    The flash of impact from 10.000 kilometers was like a giant photographic flash bulb.  The surface of the Earth over a 5000 kilometer radius rose and fell in giant swells, cracking and shattering into a thousand jigsaw pieces, each the size of a county or a state.  Bright yellow and orange magma showed through this crazy network of cracks each of which was so large that the natural canyons and features of the quiet Earth would be dwarfed by them.

    Although the asteroid had approached very rapidly the 800 billion megatons of energy was now moving enormous masses land could only produce limited accelerations and velocities.  The result was that the spreading chaos seemed to be happening with diabolical slowness, like bright molasses covered with a shattered scum of crystallized black sugar.  At the point of impact was a stupendous fiery fountain blasting straight up like a narrow cone, point down.  Around this cone of brilliant yellow and white vapor and molten rock the molten rim of the crater rose up to an elevation of forty kilometers or more.  The upper edge was fringed with kilometer sized blocks that rose slowly and curled over to fall slowly back down the outer walls of the crater.  It resembled the stop action photos of water droplets hit the surface of a still pond

    As time passed the influence of gravity became more apparent.  The hot fountain of ejecta began to spread out in airless space like a giant umbrella.  Much of it escaped the Earth's immediate influence and headed for more distant destinations.  Some of it entered orbital and sub orbital trajectories.  It was this material which would administer the Coup de Grace to life on the Earth.  As it blanketed the planet, some of it reentering almost immediately, but most of it over a period of days or weeks, a fraction of the original kinetic energy of the asteroid was first converted to kinetic energy of the ejecta, then to potential energy as it rose to its maximum elevation, and then to heat energy as it rained down through the atmosphere over the whole planet, heating the air drastically as it fell.  All carbonaceous materials exposed to this fiery blanket are eventually consumed.  Forests, cities, and prairies all burst into flames.  The pall of black smoke spread over the planet and mingled with the belching fire of a thousand volcanoes triggered by the impact.

    Charles and Jeanette saw none of this but were acutely aware of the moment from the responses of their recording devices.

    Jeanette finally broke the silence in barely restrained panic.  They had been crouched in unbearable tension watching the digital indicators on the small panel set on the deck of the command center.  “Charles, what's that sound?”

    Charles blanched and looked up, “My god, its the air.  The atmosphere's grabbing us.”

    Jeanette looked puzzled, “The air?”

    “That's right.  The ejecta are heating the atmosphere.  It's expanding.  You're hearing the sound of air hitting LEO.  It will bring this thing down.”

    Jeanette was terrified now, “Charles let's go.  We've got to leave."  She began to sob.

    “Nette, take it easy.  We'll leave at the right time.”

    At that moment they felt a sharp jolt.  Charles turned to the public intercom screen.  A face flashed on and the speaker identified himself, “This is engineering.  We've been hit.  Section 42 has been holed and is off line.  Pressure zero there.  All section locks have been sealed.  The Commander is unavailable.  Do not attempt to move about."  The screen went blank.

    Another sharp jolt shook the compartment walls.  Charles and Jeanette could now hear a hissing sound added to the whistle of the atmosphere against the hull.  Charles put his hand to the wall that separated them from outer space.  It was distinctly warm.

    “I think we had better leave.  We've done all we can."  Charles put his arm around Jeanette and squeezed her hard.  “Buck up, Nette, we're going to make it. "  Jeanette brushed aside a tear and bent to pick up one of the packages of recorders, “OK" she managed to squeak.  She was unable to say more.

    They lashed the two packages of recorders and opened the locker near the lock that led to the lunar supply rocket that George Brendon had set up for them.

    Jeanette said, “I wish we could thank him - wish we could take him with us.” she looked imploringly at Charles.

    “Nette, his family are dead.  He may be.  We've been holed at least twice.  We may have only minutes.  Let's go.”

    Charles helped Jeanette into one of the suits in the locker, checked the seals, then donned his own.  They entered the moon packet and wormed their way to the two couches.  Charles pulled the bundle of recorders and records in after them and secured them with a net in the space just behind their heads.  He then turned his attention to the small control panel that swung down in front of his visor.  Just at that moment the packet made a violent lurch.

    Charles opened the intercom link to Jeanette and gestured for her to do the same.  “I think LEO is breaking up.  We are out of here NOW.  Hang on.”

    It was only and expression since they were both securely strapped down.  Charles raised the protective cover with a gloved hand and pushed the button that fired the explosive bolts that freed them from LEO and then initiated the auto sequence that would put them on a lunar trajectory.  All space navigation was computer controlled and automatic and had been for at least 70 years.

    There were small viewing ports on both sides of the narrow control space.  Very little could be seen but Charles did catch a glimpse of the limb of the Earth from his side.  What he saw was a mottled orange and black surface in place of the familiar blue expanse overlaid with the delicate tracery of cloud whorls.  It was unbearably depressing.  He blinked back the tears quickly and closed his eyes, putting his head back.  The gentle acceleration of the rocket engines pushed them back against the cushioned couches and started them on their four day trip to MOM station.

    The control space automatically filled with air and they were finally able to raise their face visors.  The plan was to remove as much of their pressure suits as practical in the limited space and wait out the 96 hour journey.  There was water and some dry rations and not much else to do but wait.

    A few minutes into the acceleration there was a sharp jolt.

    “Nette, close your visor."  Charles shouted.  He pulled his own down and quickly looked at Jeanette.  Hers was still up.  He reached over and slapped her helmet.  “Nette, seal up.  We may have been holed.”

     He frightened eyes met his and with dawning comprehension showing through her panic finally complied.  Charles checked the panel and found they were losing pressure, but not too rapidly.

    “Nette, I am going to try to look around back aft and see if there is anything seriously damaged and if there is anything that can be done to save some of the air.  Stay here with your suit buttoned up.  I’ll be right back.’

     He didn't have to go far because there was not too much space in these small supply packets to start with.  He pushed back into the restricted space and tried to see where the damage might be.  In his suit he couldn't hear the hiss of escaping air.  He puzzled for a moment then it occurred to him there might be a way to find it.  He reached back into the control space and managed to rip a page out of the procedure manual.  Carefully with his gloved hands he folded and ripped the sheet into as pieces as small as he could manage.  Turning on his helmet lights he pointed the beam into the back of the storage space.  Charles prayed that the damage would be accessible and not in some machinery or electronic space.  One by one he released the scraps of papers and watched them as they floated back into the darkened interior of the ship under the influence of their slight acceleration.

    “I think I've found it, Nette.  It seems to be somewhere under these tanks.  I’ll see if I can reach it.”

    Jeanette seemed to have recovered a bit, “Charles, How can we plug it?  Do we have to?  Can't we just stay in our suits?”

    Charles strained to see, “Yeah, OK, but we've still got over half our air in here and I think we might just need it."  He squirmed to a new position and tried to reach the hole with his gloved hand.  “I'm about 5 centimeters short.  What have we got that might reach?”

    Jeanette thought for a minute, “I think I've got it.  Hang on.”

    She dug into the small packet velcroed to the side of the hull next to her seat.  Eventually she found the item she was looking for.  “Charles, try this.”

     “What is it?"  Charles asked as he raised his other hand to snatch the small object that she had pushed toward him.

    “Energy bar.  Used to take them on hikes in the Adirondacks.  Had to be in here.  We used to call them asphalt bars,” she laughed.

    Charles ripped the cover from the bar.  It was flat, rectangular about 15 by 5 by 1/2 centimeter, and nearly black in color.  It had the consistency of a toffee bar.  He was just able to slide it over the area he had judged to have the hole and was gratified to see it bend and dimple as the air pushed it into a tight fit.

    “I just hope it doesn't suck right on through,” he said.

Jeanette laughed, “Not to worry.  Apparently you haven't done much dining on trail food.”

     Charles regained his couch and checked the panel.  Nothing but stars could be seen through the view parts.  He was not a pilot and had no idea whether they were in a correct trajectory for MOM.  He watched the numbers shift on the panel display and tried to detect a pattern.

    “From the relatively benign appearance of the display and the lack of red lights I would presume we are on track,” he hesitated, ”If we don't hit any more stuff.”

    Jeanette, still worried, asked, “Do we have enough air?”

    “Yes, Nette, we've got our suit air but I think we might try living at 5000 meters for awhile.  If you start to feel woozy take a few whiffs from your suit supply.  We just have no idea what's ahead for us.”

CHAPTER 15 - MOM
     Weiss and the rest of the MOM crew had been kept abreast of the developments by relay from SETI Station.  Images had been small and lacked any significant detail.  Immediately after the asteroid strike all communication from Earth ceased abruptly.  The last information beamed to their comm satellites was from LEO informing them that a packet rocket was on its way with a cargo of two passengers and some crucial data on the destructive effects of the impact on the planet.

    Weiss had gathered the entire staff of MOM in the headquarters dome to simplify the passing of information and to plan their next moves.

     Weiss spoke to the group assembled in the command center; “It is finished.  We can't let down.  First, has anyone something to say?”

    One of the mining crew, distraught, said, “What's to say?  We're going to die too, right?"  He was angry and his voice trembled.

    “Listen,” said Weiss, raising his hands to try to bring some calm, “We have two problems.  Maybe we can get through both.”

    The miner looked puzzled, “Two?  What do you mean?”

    Weiss explained, “In ten to fifteen hours after the strike ejecta will begin to impact the Moon.  It will be widely spread out in space.  Obviously the surface facing into the direction of the Moon's orbital motion will get the most, but just like on Earth, the Moon's gravity will capture much in wide spread orbital and, unfortunately, sub orbital paths.  We can expect some to strike in our vicinity and even on the rest of the far side.

     “The second problem is that we are not yet entirely self sufficient for the supplies that we need.  Our biggest problem is that we do not yet have a robust hydroponics facility for growing plants.  We may be able to jury rig or develop something but we don't have much time.  Current supplies are limited.  We could survive maybe a year or two.”

     After this unaccustomed lengthy speech Weiss sat down and crossed his arms over his chest, looking out at his crew, tight lipped, from under bushy eyebrows.  There was little comment.  Most simply looked at each other or at their feet.  No one knew what to add at this point.

     Weiss finally leaned forward and continued, “I want everyone to stay here in the headquarters module.  We need to conserve, and the best way to do it is to live and work from here.  All unnecessary modules will be secured and put on standby.  Mo more mining, except for water as needed.  Forget the rocket storage for now.”

     Hal Morgan, mining chief, finally spoke up, “Helmut, shouldn't we be making serious preparations to move everyone to SETI Station?  They have the technology and probably sufficient quarters for all of us.”

    “We may come to this, Hal.  But for now we just don't have enough transport.” he replied, “but I think we have a very good chance of avoiding a problem from the ejecta.  Very little is to hit the Moon - maybe none at all on our site for a thousand years - maybe none ever.”

    The discussion continued for hours.  Weiss felt that everyone should get it out of their system, whatever was bugging them.  Once during the meeting all felt a slight tremor.  There was instantaneous silence.  Several looked around apprehensively.  Weiss tried to calm them.

    “Nothing, just a little Moon quake.  We've had them before.”

    “Could it have been a strike?  Henry, the runabout driver asked.

    “Of course,” said Weiss, “but maybe not likely.  Whatever it was it wasn't here.  Let's get our plan done.  Let's move our essential supplies here as soon as possible.”

    Emily was restless.  She wanted desperately to get out to her one-meter to collect her records and get them into the main dome for safekeeping.  She had relatively little in the way of food at the site that needed moving.  She finally prevailed on Weiss to let her go before the others who were very much engrossed in compiling an inventory.  Decisions needed to be made.  Not everything could be moved.  Check lists had to be complied.  Priorities assigned.  Emily Jarret was restive.  She had little to contribute to this final part of the planning.  The large group gathered had broken up into smaller groups as each team made lists of supplies and equipment that needed moving.  Finally Emily broke away.

    “Dr. Weiss, I am going to run over to the one-meter and collect some of the records.  There is little here in the way of subsistence supplies.  What there is I’ll bring back.  OK?”

    Weiss nodded, “OK Emily, go ahead.”  Weiss turned back to the large sheet on which he had been entering the lists as the group handed them to him.

    Emily headed down an adjoining tunnel toward the airlock.  Runabouts were docked at the circular room at the end.  Personnel using the overland vehicles had the option of operating in a shirtsleeve environment and entering and leaving their vehicle through the docking lock or donning a p-suit and parking their vehicle away from the docking terminal and using a simple personnel lock to enter or leave the dome.  Most used this method since duties often required them to leave their vehicles at localities away from the domes.

    The vehicles themselves were six wheeled, each highly articulated wheel being individually driven by an electric motor fed from the on board oxy-hydrogen fuel cell system.  Oxygen and hydrogen were made from lunar ice and electricity from the large PV cell farm on the nearby mountain peak.  The “Power Peak,” as it came to be known, was unique in that it was at the rotational pole and was seldom in shadow, just as the lunar ice field was in eternal shadow for much the same reason.

    Emily donned her p-suit and walked out to her vehicle.  It some five kilometers across the crater floor to the one-meter.  The journey would only take fifteen minutes along the well worn track.  Ten minutes into her short trip her runabout was hit by a violent shock.  It tilted crazily and eventually bounced back onto its wheels.  Emily was strapped into the seat and was uninjured by the violent and totally unexpected jolt.  All she could see thought the front view screen was a sheet of falling dust and small rocks.  She could hear them bouncing off the roof.  She knew immediately what had happened.  A largish chunk of ejecta had struck nearby crating a new crater.  Her first thought was to check the integrity of her runabout.  A quick scan of the instruments revealed no air leaks or other serious damage.  No doubt there were a few dents in the roof.

    Her next reaction was to call the headquarters dome and see if they knew the location of the strike.  There was no response to her repeated calls.  It was possible that the debris had damaged the antenna either on her vehicle or at headquarters.  She decided to drive on.  There was a small rise to the right of the track.  From the top of that she might be able to spat the location of the new crater.  Emily started up the engines and the little car bumped over the rubble strewn terrain and up the fill for about 200 meters.  She climbed out on the roof of the car to get a couple of more meters of elevation.  Even on the floor of a moon crater the natural curvature of the Moon's surface placed many of the smaller features of the floor over the horizon.  Only a moments glance back toward the headquarters dome confirmed her worst unconscious fear.  The dome was not to be seen; only the jagged rise of the wall of a new small crater where the dome had once been.

    Emily's first instinct was to retrace her tracks to see if any portion of that complex, especially the underground tunnels and chambers, might have survived.  She stopped at the foot of the rather steep jumble of rock that formed the rim and scrambled up the fifteen meters to the edge.  At first there didn't seem to be a trace of the original structure.  On closer inspection she could see some of the black voids that must be remains of tunnels or their entrances.  It was clear on reflection that there was no warning and that she was possibly the only survivor on the Moon.  It was a soul numbing realization.  Panic was not far away.  But Emily had lived for long time with the knowledge that she had been the harbinger of the news of the coming lend of the world.  She had been toughened by that and by the long years of living in the hostile lunar environment.  The instinct for sanity and for life itself was very strong in her.

    The climb down the steep inner wall was laborious and took and hour but she knew she owed it to her comrades to make sure that all were indeed beyond any help.  On the floor there was nothing but bits and pieces, unrecognizable.  A quick inspection of the cavernous holes revealed them all airless and choked with rock fall.  There was nothing to do but proceed on to her one-meter facility.

    Fortunately her one refuge was undamaged.  Emily spent her first hours organizing her supplies, checking her air, and trying to puzzle out the radio system.  Even though the main transmitters had been at headquarters the antennas were high on the rim and had an unobstructed line of sight to both Earth and Jupiter.  Her first thought was to contact SETI Station to give them the bad news, bad at least to her.  Although she was well aware of the exact time of the asteroid's collision with Earth and aware of the complete devastation that had resulted, she had no direct observational information about the event or whether LEO might have survived.  It seemed worthwhile to try to rig communications with someone, anyone.  She was desperate.  It was a horrifying experience to be alone and alive on a world with no resources, no human contact, and practically no hope for the future.

     Emily searched her own dome for equipment that might be of use and found none.  She then methodically toured all the other sites.  Some were undamaged and contained supplies and materials she might ultimately use.  The packet rocket base was relatively intact.  It was here that she found her best hope for communications.  The systems for guiding and communicating with the incoming and departing rockets seemed to be on line in standby condition powered by the PV banks, batteries, and fuel cells typical of each individual site at MOM.  She did not, however, find a way to extend these equipments to her use.

    On the second day after the destruction of MOM headquarters and the loss of all personnel but herself Emily Jarret had her runabout about 40 kilometers from base.  She had determined that she had to get to the peak where the antennas were located both to see if she could hook to them from her vehicles’s radio system and to get some closure on the loss of Earth - to have one last look at the blackened and fiery globe.

    She left her runabout and climbed the last ten meters to the antenna site.  Standing in the blazing sunlight she could just see a small crescent of the Earth on the horizon.  The view was too strange to bear.  No whorls of clouds were visible, only black splotches and shifting patterns of orange and yellow fire.  As she turned to leave her attention was caught by the briefest streak of light high in the black void.  Using her binoculars she was ultimately able to isolate the object.  It appeared to be a supply rocket on a descent path to the station.

    A giant had gripped her heart.  She stumbled and ran and fell as she clambered down hill to her runabout.  Oh God, she thought, I'm not alone.  Someone or something is coming.  Her breath caught in her throat and tears blurred her vision as she wrenched open the runabout airlock and fell into the drivers seat.  She repeated over and over to herself, take it easy, don't do anything foolish.  But she kept the throttle fully advanced as the runabout bucked and skidded down from the high ridge to the floor of the crater.  Twice it teetered on three wheels on one side and only by a violent swing in that direction was she able to avoid overturning.