“Told you.” Zoe gloated. “I knew there was more to that rings angle than you wanted to admit earlier.” She did a celebratory somersault in midair. “So, who is the crackpot conspiracy theorist now?”
“Watch your mouth, brat,” Fontana snarled from the copilot’s seat. “That’s a future Nobel Prize winner you’re talking to.”
“It’s all right, Alice,” O’Herlihy said. “Our guest has reason to feel vindicated… to a degree. These findings are a humbling reminder that we are in unknown territory out here and that the universe can still surprise us.”
Ordinarily, the scientist would have chided Zoe for letting her imagination run wild, but his response struck Shaun as uncharacteristically muted. He found that vaguely worrisome. When somebody like Marcus gave ground to Zoe, things were seriously out of whack.
“Still,” O’Herlihy continued, “I’m sure it’s just a temporary aberration, caused by the approach of the comet or some other factor. It’s bound to correct itself in time.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zoe challenged him. “That’s what they used to say about global warming. Tell that to the ice caps… or what’s left of them.”
Shaun scowled. Despite the scientist’s provisos, this sounded like something he needed to stay on top of. “I want daily reports on those rings from now on. Let me know if you think there’s even a chance that we might need to adjust our orbit to put more distance between ourselves and the rings.”
Their mission had been plotted and predicated on the fact that Saturn would act like Saturn, and so would its rings. He recalled O’Herlihy’s earlier description, months ago, of the rings as roiling rivers, complete with dangerous currents, eddies, and other hazards. Granted, the rings were only about half a kilometer thick on average, and the Lewis & Clark had been built to withstand random micrometeoroid strikes, but Shaun was in no hurry to ride the rapids.
“Will do,” O’Herlihy assured him. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
“I like hearing you say that, Doc.” Shaun turned his attention back to the day’s agenda. “Let’s just hope our cometary friend doesn’t surprise us, too.”
“Shh!” Zoe held a finger to her lips. “Don’t jinx us.”
“Says the jinx herself,” Fontana muttered. She kept her eye on the view out the cockpit windows. “And they used to say comets were bad luck…”
The comet, designated C/2018-G2, had been visible for days as a faint white smudge in the distance, but it was growing clearer as it approached them. This far out from the sun, the comet had not melted enough to give it a truly impressive tail, yet it was already recognizable as a comet. A cloud of dusty vapor, known as the coma, formed an atmosphere around the comet’s nucleus, while a misty white stream trailed behind it, pointing away from the sun, whose solar winds created the tail by blowing the ionized comet material away from it. C/2018 was extremely small by cometary standards, its nucleus barely more than a hundred meters across, yet its tail already stretched for thousands of kilometers. The comet’s path was not expected to bring it anywhere near Earth, so this was their best chance to get a good look at it.
Like most comets, it was probably just a large, dirty snowball from the outer reaches of the solar system, but who knew where exactly C/2018 had been and what secrets it might hold? Past comets had been found to contain complex organic compounds, including amino acids. Nobody had discovered life on a comet yet, but the possibility was there. If nothing else, Sacagawea might provide clues to determine whether C/2018 was from the Kuiper Belt, the Oort Cloud, or someplace farther out in space. It might even prove to be that rare comet that was just passing through the solar system on its way out to interstellar space. If it was on a truly hyperbolic orbit, it might never pass this way again.
All the more reason to check it out when we can, Shaun thought. “You set, Doc?”
“Sacagawea is in position,” O’Herlihy reported. “No orbital adjustments appear to be needed at this time. It should intercept C/2018 in approximately eighty-five minutes. We can initiate landing procedures then, assuming that — what the devil?”
Before their eyes, the comet suddenly veered to the left.
“Crap!” Fontana exclaimed. “Is it supposed to be able to do that?”
“No!” O’Herlihy frantically worked the LIDAR controls, trying to keep it locked on the detouring comet. “It was following a standard elliptical orbit, more or less. This should not be happening!”
Zoe flew toward the windows for a better look. She typed more notes into her tablet, then held it up to take a picture. “Holy cow. This trip is getting better and better.”
Shaun was glad somebody felt that way. For himself, he was getting tired of the impossible biting them in the butt. “Talk to me, Doc. What the hell is that thing doing?”
“It’s changing course, away from Sacagawea, and slowing down.” The shocked scientist stared at his monitors. “It’s heading in toward the planet, avoiding the rings.” He shook his head, looking even more flabbergasted than when he had detected the stowaway aboard. Awe reduced his voice to a whisper. “It’s not behaving like a proper comet at all, more like…”
“A UFO?” Zoe winked at Shaun. “What do you think, Skipper? Friends of your dad?”
Fontana look askance at Shaun. “You told her about that?” She knew what Zoe was referring to, of course. Shaun had shared that colorful bit of family history with Fontana back when they were dating. “Don’t be ridiculous,” the copilot snapped at Zoe. “There must be a sensible explanation for this.”
“Like what?” Zoe asked.
Fontana groped for a response. “Maybe the same thing that’s affecting the rings?”
Whatever that is, Shaun thought, scowling. He wanted answers, not more mysteries. “Where is it heading, Doc?”
“It seems to be heading for… the north pole of the planet.”
“You mean the hexagon,” Zoe said.
“Possibly,” O’Herlihy admitted, with a distinctly pained expression. “At least, that general vicinity.”
Zoe let go of her tablet, which remained floating within reach, and rubbed her hands together gleefully. “The plot thickens.”
“Tell me about it,” Shaun said. Their carefully planned operation, meticulously worked out by NASA and its international partners, had just gone out the proverbial window. Sacagawea, waiting in orbit for its celestial rendezvous, had been stood up. C/2018 had ditched them, almost as though it was on a mission of its own. Careful, he warned himself, you’re starting to think like Zoe.
But maybe that wasn’t entirely a bad idea. Their mission had just gotten a whole lot stranger and more exciting. Perhaps it was time to start thinking outside the box.
“Set a course for the north pole,” he instructed. “We’re going after that comet.”
Fontana stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “But that’s not part of the mission plan.”
He couldn’t blame her for being startled. NASA flights were not improvised. Every task and maneuver had been plotted out months, if not years, in advance, especially where dangerous new objectives were concerned. Hell, there had been ten trial runs before Apollo 11 had finally touched down on the moon. Space was no place to fly by the seat of your pants — except when something truly unpredictable happened.