dryly. Then he said to her, "It's going to be easy. Just relax, I'll make some introductory remarks, introduce you, then ask you the same kind of questions we've asked all along. They might have a few extra questions as well, but don't expect anything complex or anything you might not be ready for. This isn't brain surgery, and the audience aren't physicists. Okay?"
She nodded nervously. Up until now this was the one thing she'd thought the least about; now, oddly, it was the thing that was making her the most nervous, and she tried desperately to calm down.
"All I want to do is not make a fool of myself," she told him honestly.
"Don't worry. You'll do fine. The one problem is the audio. You'll be hearing two channels at once sometimes— the director or supervising producer in Atlanta and the anchors. Just don't let it confuse you."
The next few minutes were something of a blur, but all thoughts of the discomfort, the lights, the bugs, and the heat and humidity faded. She remembered being asked, "Is there any danger that this asteroid is large enough to cause worldwide problems?" and answering reflexively.
"If you mean the sort of thing that wiped out the dinosaurs, a nuclear winter, no," she told them. "At least not from the figures I've seen so far. We did have a near miss with an asteroid that might have done us in a few years back, but this isn't in that league. Still, it is a very large object, relatively speaking, and there will be some very nasty aftereffects. We might well have some global cooling for a period of years, much as if a couple of very big volcanoes erupted at the same time, and, depending on the upper-level winds here, an even more dramatic effect on the South American and possibly African continents for some time. It will be impossible to say anything for sure until we see it hit."
"Then we don't have to find a survivalist with a fallout shelter," one of the distant anchors said jokingly.
"No. Although if you're living in the western Amazon basin and know somebody with one, it might not be a bad idea," she responded.
There was more of that sort of question and answer, but considering she wasn't even going on current data, there was, she reflected, nothing she could say that any nonsci-entist might not have said from somewhere in the States.
Still, when the light went down and somebody, probably Terry, said, "Okay, that's enough for now," Lori felt almost stunned, not quite remembering what had gone on. Almost everything—their questions, her replies, even her annoyances—seemed distant and unfocused, beyond remembering clearly. She was suddenly afraid that she'd just made an absolute fool of herself on national television.
Terry came up to her and asked, "Well, what do you think about the new data?"
"Huh? Oh—sorry. It's all something of a blur. New data?"
"Yeah. Impact point ninety kilometers west southwest of here in—" She looked at her watch. "—about three hours, give or take."
"They're that certain? There are so many variables . .."
"NORAD's computers are pretty good these days, I hear, since they got into such hot water over muffing even the continent Skylab was gonna hit some years back. If this asteroid hadn't gone into unstable low Earth orbit, they might be guessing still, but it's deteriorating now right on schedule. They fed in the wobble and decay characteristics, and their computers came up with the predicted mass, and that was the missing element. They say they're ninety-plus percent sure. Didn't you hear anything !"
"I—I heard it, but it just didn't register. I guess I was just too nervous."
The producer grinned. "You did fine. Look, we'll keep getting data for the next hour or so, and if this prediction continues to hold, we'll do one more standup and then it's off to the plane. Take it easy, relax. Don Francisco's men brought out some sandwiches and drinks. Take the coffee, go easy on the beer, and don't touch that sangria—it's like a hundred and fifty
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