moving. She scooped her uncle around the waist and rolled him away from the window, toward the opposite side of the room.
She drove her uncle to the floor, sheltering him behind the desk with her body—as the grenade exploded with a concussive blast of fire and smoke.
10:18 A . M . PST
Airborne over California
The sprawl of Los Angeles vanished below the wings of the jet as it began its cross-country flight to D.C. Painter had asked the pilot to spare no fuel, to push the Bombardier Global 5000 to its severe limits. The luxury of the richly appointed interior, with its full bar and leather seating groups, belied the jet’s state-of-the-art engines, which could reach an upper speed of 590 mph.
Painter intended to test the manufacturer’s claims during this flight, especially with the Eastern Seaboard set to burn in less than four days.
Whether true or not, General Metcalf had requested he set aside such mysteries for now and tasked him with a more practical concern: the crashed IoG-1 satellite. Those orders still rang in his ears.
Find the wreckage of the satellite. That remains your primary objective. The technicians will deal with the image taken by the satellite. And as a precaution , I’ll begin a risk assessment in regards to pending threats to the East Coast .
They each had their roles to play.
The plane banked as it headed out of Los Angeles airspace. The comet shone in the blue sky, luminous enough to see during the day. At night, the tail stretched far across the stars, so bright that one could discern the wavering scintillation of its tail, making it appear a living thing. It was expected to blaze up there for almost a month as the comet made a slow pass by the earth.
Slipping into the leather seat next to him, she noted his attention. The only other passenger aboard the jet, she tinkled a glass of cola in one hand.
Jada had shared with Metcalf her theories of time skipping a beat due to a wrinkle in space-time. Her theory offered an explanation for the errant shadows discovered in the photo, shadows that suggested the image might be a glimpse of ninety hours into the future.
“I don’t think we convinced the general,” Painter said, turning to her.
“And I’m not sure I’m convinced either,” Jada added.
This surprised him—and it must have shown on his face.
“There are so many variables in play here,” she explained, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “As I mentioned before, the image could be a peek into an alternate future, not necessarily ours. I refuse to believe that the future is written in stone. In fact, quantum physics defies such linear paths to time. Just the act of observation can change fate, like with Schrödinger’s cat.”
“And that applies how?”
“Well, take that cat. It’s a classic example of the spookiness of quantum mechanics. In that thought experiment, a cat is put in a box with a poison pellet, one that has an equal chance of killing the cat or not. While the box is closed, the cat is considered to be in a suspended state—both alive and dead. It’s only after you open the box and check on the cat that its fate is truly settled one way or the other. Some theorize that when the box is opened, the universe splits into two. In one universe, the cat’s alive. In the other, he’s dead.”
“Okay.”
“And the same situation may be involved with the photo taken by the satellite as space-time wrinkled around it. In one universe, the world burns. In the other, it doesn’t.”
“So we have a fifty-fifty chance of surviving. For some reason, with the fate of mankind hanging in the balance, I’m not particularly happy with those odds.”
“Yet the flow of time gets even murkier from there. Just the fact that the satellite took the picture and we all saw it is an act of observation . What we do from here can change fate—but we don’t know if our actions will make that doomsday more likely to happen or less.”
“It sounds as if—for the next
She drove her uncle to the floor, sheltering him behind the desk with her body—as the grenade exploded with a concussive blast of fire and smoke.
10:18 A . M . PST
Airborne over California
The sprawl of Los Angeles vanished below the wings of the jet as it began its cross-country flight to D.C. Painter had asked the pilot to spare no fuel, to push the Bombardier Global 5000 to its severe limits. The luxury of the richly appointed interior, with its full bar and leather seating groups, belied the jet’s state-of-the-art engines, which could reach an upper speed of 590 mph.
Painter intended to test the manufacturer’s claims during this flight, especially with the Eastern Seaboard set to burn in less than four days.
Whether true or not, General Metcalf had requested he set aside such mysteries for now and tasked him with a more practical concern: the crashed IoG-1 satellite. Those orders still rang in his ears.
Find the wreckage of the satellite. That remains your primary objective. The technicians will deal with the image taken by the satellite. And as a precaution , I’ll begin a risk assessment in regards to pending threats to the East Coast .
They each had their roles to play.
The plane banked as it headed out of Los Angeles airspace. The comet shone in the blue sky, luminous enough to see during the day. At night, the tail stretched far across the stars, so bright that one could discern the wavering scintillation of its tail, making it appear a living thing. It was expected to blaze up there for almost a month as the comet made a slow pass by the earth.
Slipping into the leather seat next to him, she noted his attention. The only other passenger aboard the jet, she tinkled a glass of cola in one hand.
Jada had shared with Metcalf her theories of time skipping a beat due to a wrinkle in space-time. Her theory offered an explanation for the errant shadows discovered in the photo, shadows that suggested the image might be a glimpse of ninety hours into the future.
“I don’t think we convinced the general,” Painter said, turning to her.
“And I’m not sure I’m convinced either,” Jada added.
This surprised him—and it must have shown on his face.
“There are so many variables in play here,” she explained, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “As I mentioned before, the image could be a peek into an alternate future, not necessarily ours. I refuse to believe that the future is written in stone. In fact, quantum physics defies such linear paths to time. Just the act of observation can change fate, like with Schrödinger’s cat.”
“And that applies how?”
“Well, take that cat. It’s a classic example of the spookiness of quantum mechanics. In that thought experiment, a cat is put in a box with a poison pellet, one that has an equal chance of killing the cat or not. While the box is closed, the cat is considered to be in a suspended state—both alive and dead. It’s only after you open the box and check on the cat that its fate is truly settled one way or the other. Some theorize that when the box is opened, the universe splits into two. In one universe, the cat’s alive. In the other, he’s dead.”
“Okay.”
“And the same situation may be involved with the photo taken by the satellite as space-time wrinkled around it. In one universe, the world burns. In the other, it doesn’t.”
“So we have a fifty-fifty chance of surviving. For some reason, with the fate of mankind hanging in the balance, I’m not particularly happy with those odds.”
“Yet the flow of time gets even murkier from there. Just the fact that the satellite took the picture and we all saw it is an act of observation . What we do from here can change fate—but we don’t know if our actions will make that doomsday more likely to happen or less.”
“It sounds as if—for the next
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