A multiple “yes” erupted from the students.
“Teacher, can you give me a map of the system?”
“Sure, John.” The artificial intelligence projected a holographic map of Alpha Mensae’s planetary system.
John pointed to numerous broad rings situated between red-marked planetary orbits. “We discussed planetary accretion, so I’m sure someone can guess the origin of these rings.”
Wes replied excitedly, “Yeah. Those are what’s left over from the nebula—chunks of ice, rock and iron that haven’t fallen into our planets.”
John nodded and said, “Alpha Mensae is only one-third the age of Sol. The Solar System doesn’t have these rings because they have depleted over its many years, or they simply did not form. As a result, fewer bolides strike the Earth. The asteroid belt, of course, is an exception.”
“We should get moving,” interrupted Sarah.
Glancing at his wristcom, which served as a watch, John said, “We’ll resume this talk upon landing.” He climbed into the pilot’s seat and conversed with the DFC’s autopilot.
Cushioned restraints closed around Amberle. The vehicle’s engines warmed up, whining softly. Feeling depressed, Amberle gazed out the window, studying the dense forest of lycopodium-like trees that lined the beach Seaside had been built on. How can I change the council members’ minds about the asteroid deflections? She felt helpless.
Amberle stared at the barren countryside below, admiring the sharp ridges protruding starkly from narrow, flat valleys. A dune-filled sand beach hugged the empty foothills. Having flown for several hours, they were deep in the desert.
“Still down about the deflections?” said Wes.
She quietly stared outside.
“They won’t be moving them all.”
“Only the large, most exciting ones,” she grumbled.
“Well, those hits are dangerous.”
“Arcologies can withstand tsunamis!”
Wes said, “Maybe not a wave larger than the one two weeks ago.”
She recalled the coat of sand the tsunami left on the arcology’s second story windows, a beautiful sight because of its unanticipated nature. “Even on Goliath, there isn’t much chance of that happening.”
“It looks like some people think the chance is good.”
She glared at Wes, and then looked away. “I know deflections are for good reason. But why should other people have the authority to dictate my world for me?” She sighed. “It’s so depressing.”
The engine’s pitch shifted, and they descended. From her broad window, Amberle saw ridges rising like a series of expanding, dirty waves. Muddied, she thought, just like my fun.
“Great!” she heard Dave say in front of her. “We’re almost there.”
Amberle felt a nervous twinge in her stomach, a feeling she usually got when she neared a location unfamiliar to her. Dropping below a sterile summit with a surprisingly flat profile, the craft settled in the shallow valley, kicking up a thick plume of dust.
John stood up and, talking above the noisy students, said, “When we go outside, I want you guys to stick close to me.”
The door lifted and a waft of hot wind drifted through the air conditioned interior, making Amberle feel uncomfortable. Her classmates stood and filled the aisle, pushing each other as they moved outside. Waiting for them to clear, Amberle sat still.
Wes said, “John told me earlier that this region hasn’t had any rain since we colonized Goliath.”
Amberle glanced at the parched countryside. Aside from a few dead weeds, their stems broken and twisted by wind and heat, nothing biological added to the expanse of gray rocks, gravel and beige soil.
“How could rain miss this area so much? It’s right by the ocean.”
“John said something about the tall eastern mountains causing the air to sink, and the cold ocean water killing storms, but I didn’t quite understand.”
“Hm.”
Seeing the aisle clear, Amberle stood. Wes followed her lead and stepped into the narrow passageway. Together, they walked to the exit. Outside, Amberle felt hot under the bright sun, and again wished she had brought shorts. She spotted the class standing next to a cliff and walked to the rear of the group.
“…Your attention to these layers here.” With a beaten geopick, John pointed to the rough-surfaced wall. “See how we have this sand deposit?” He hit the white line with the tip of his pick and a fine, glittering spray trickled down the cliff’s face. “This line marks a time when an impactgenerated tsunami arrived, dumping sand and,” he pried out a bright white object, “sea critters up here.” He gave the shell to Elizabeth, who looked at the item for a moment and passed it to her friend, Mara.
“We’re so high up!” said Dave.
“Yes, we are,” John replied, smiling, “This valley floor we’re standing on is ninety meters above mean sea level.”
“That’s a big wave,” said Wes.
John said, “Indeed it was a big wave. Happening many times, as you can tell from the repeating sand deposits in this exposure.”
Looking concerned, Elizabeth asked, “Don’t we get the same waves at Seaside?”
John nodded. “Yes. All the coasts have them.”
Dave snidely commented to Elizabeth, “Then why was Seaside built on the shore?”
“A good question,” said John, giving him a sharp look. “One you should know.”
Elizabeth answered for him, “Our parents are studying the intertidal zone, and want to live close to their field work.”
John smiled and nodded. “Tsunami early warning systems are in place. There’s only a slight risk of being caught by surprise.”
Unconcerned about the risk of a threatening wave, Amberle studied the dead plants on the hillside. Growing curious, she found the nerve to ask a question. “I read that tsunamis deposit too much salt in the soil for plants to live. How’s that one grow?” With a sweaty arm, she pointed to the bleached stems.
“Oh, I hadn’t seen those.” Sarah walked to the dry weeds and broke a brittle stem with her hand. “Amberle is right. Up north, where rain is abundant, it carries the salts away, allowing plants to return after each wave. But down here there are no cleansing rainstorms. Maybe the plant grew in a time when more rain fell.”
“Isn’t that a dead plant in that layer?” asked Dave, pointing at the cliff.
John pried out the small jagged cylindrical object. He tapped the fragment and it rang like a tiny bell. “Yes, a plant stem, but fossilized.” He tossed it to Sarah.
After comparing the fossil to the stem she picked, Sarah replied, “They could be the same species. Looks like there’s some variability of climate here.”
“Class, I’m impressed with your questions and curiosity.”
Many kids, including Amberle, smiled at his compliment.
“We’re through with this site. I have another down this valley a ways,” he pointed to the southwest, over the flat, dusty bottomland, toward a narrow canyon bisecting the western ridge, “but we’ll look at it later. Time to take a break.”
Amberle walked up to John, wiped sweat from her brow, and abruptly said, “Is there anything that might keep us from deflecting the asteroids?”
John raised his eyebrows. “I was wondering when I’d hear more about that from you. Why?”
Amberle, feeling nervous, hesitated before answering, “Because I like watching them.”
John rubbed his bearded chin in thought. “The closest thing I can think of is that the deflections at Earth and Mars have disrupted many previously stable asteroids. This has caused an increasing number to wander into the inner Solar System. Since the asteroids are being deflected, this hasn’t been much of a problem—yet.”
“Wouldn’t that be a bigger problem here, since there are more asteroids?”