light-headed.
“Yes,” Hay confirmed, “there is only one possible answer: the space probe, the one on course to approach Earth, is in orbit around a large planetary object.”
“But … how large an object?”
“There are too many unknown variables, including orbital speed and height, making precise calculations almost impossible. But obviously this object has to be of sufficient mass to have captured the ship in its gravitational pull.”
“To do that, it would have to be at least two hundred kilometres in diameter,” Sheppard said, answering his own question. “But that would mean …” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
His mind spun feverishly, trying to come to grips with the panic that filled his body. He was so much better with thoughts than he was with emotions. Maybe he had to force those emotions down and focus on the numbers, on the mathematics, on the logic.
“But if all this is true, then—”
“It is true,” Markell said. “An object, an asteroid ofat least two hundred kilometres in diameter, is travelling toward Earth.”
“But if that was to strike Earth, or even have a near miss, then the impact on Earth, on all life forms, would be catastrophic!”
“It would most probably mean the end of life on the planet,” Hay said. She uttered the words so casually, with such a lack of emotion, that for Sheppard they were almost unreal.
“It’s so hard to believe,” Sheppard said, his voice barely a whisper.
“You have to believe,” Markell said. “You have to believe because it is true.”
Sheppard nodded his head. He knew Andrew, and more important, he trusted him, not only as a scientist but as his friend.
“Then shouldn’t the world know what is happening?” Sheppard asked. “Don’t we have a moral obligation to make others aware of the danger to humanity?”
“In fact, I believe we have a moral obligation
not
to let them know,” Hay replied.
“I don’t understand.”
“There is no benefit in letting them know their possible fate before we have had the opportunity to at least present them with an alternative, an answer, a solution,” Hay explained.
“In fact,” Donahue continued, “their knowledge, and possible reaction, could produce consequences that would make it impossible to execute a solution.”
“I don’t follow you,” Sheppard said.
“What if people started to act like there was no tomorrow?” he asked. “What would happen to society, to civilization, and to those hundreds of thousands of individuals whose help we need in our efforts?”
“Wouldn’t they have an even greater incentive to be part of the solution?” Sheppard asked.
“Possibly, but that knowledge might have the opposite effect. We have decided that the people of the world will be happier, and our success more likely, if they are left unaware.”
“For how long?”
“If we can find the solution, it is possible that they will never even become aware of the danger. That would be the ultimate success of our efforts.”
The professor thought through what he had just heard. His understanding of human nature was restricted to casual observation and limited experience. Perhaps they were right.
“But you didn’t bring me here only to silence me,” he said. “That could have been done much more simply and with less possible risk of complications. So why am I here?”
“Professor Sheppard, the skills that allowed you to confirm our greatest fears are the same skills that might lead to our salvation. You are more than simply a scientist. You are one of the greatest minds of your generation, and your knowledge and expertise are among the keys to finding the solution—to saving humanity.”
He felt complimented, flustered, and scared all at once.
“You were brought here to be an important member of our team, a team dedicated to finding that solution.”
“Daniel,” Andrew said, “they have assembled the greatest minds on the planet, brought them