Читаем Skyfall полностью

“Of course, yes. But you know that your relief space-shuttle is not due to take off until a month from now. It takes at least six days to get it on the pad.”

“I know that. But I am thinking of the Soviets. Do they have a shuttle operational that might make orbital rendezvous? Or maybe the Air Force? They have been doing shuttle work with the fast turnaround time. Do they have one operational right now?”

“I do not know. But General Bannerman is present and I will ask him.” He glanced over at Bannerman and raised his eyebrows.

“Negative,” Bannerman said, his face expressionless. “There'll be a shuttle coming on line in a few days. It cannot be launched in the ten hours left.”

“Did you hear that, Prometheus?”

“Yes. But we still want to know the situation with the Soviets. Please report soonest. “

“We will do that, Prometheus. Just a moment, the President would like to speak with you.”

“This is your President, Major Winter. I just wanted to say that our hearts are with you and your crew at all times. The utmost priority is being given to the safety and success of Prometheus, and of course your persona! safety. Be assured that no task will be left undone, no stone unturned in our efforts to assure your safety and success.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. Out. “

“That kid is kind of snappy,” Grodzinski said. “He oughta watch his mouth.”

“They are under a certain amount of tension up there,” Bannerman said.

“Still…”

“Shut up, Grodzinski,” Bandin said. “We've a problem on our hands. We've got to think of those people up there. We've also got to think of the million tons or whatever of US hardware they are riding around in. Dillwater, if they can't be helped, what happens in twenty-eight hours?”

“Prometheus will impact the atmosphere.” He took off his glasses and pinched the sore bridge of his nose while he spoke. “What happens after that, well we cannot be sure. Something the size of Prometheus has never been in this situation before. She might break up and burn, or she might hold together and impact the Earth's surface.”

“Are you telling me there could be a second crash? Like the first one?”

“I am very unhappy to tell you, Mr. President, that it might be much worse than the first one. Not only does Prometheus weigh much more, but it still has its fuel for the fission engines. About five hundred pounds of radioactive uranium pellets. It is doubtful if these would explode on impact….”

“They wouldn't have to explode,” Bannerman said. “They would burn, melt, be diffused as radioactive gas. Wouldn't that be a nice thing to land in our back yard.”

“Our back yard, anyone's back yard. Depending where it was in orbit at the time it could strike most anywhere in a large section of the globe.”

“I don't understand that,” the President said.

“It has to do with the rotation of the Earth, sir. Prometheus goes around the Earth once every eighty-eight minutes in a roughly oval orbit. But while it's doing that the Earth is rotating, moving under the orbit. So with every circle of the Earth the satellite passes over different places on the surface below. At one point, unhappily, the orbit passed over Britain as we now know and regret.”

Bandin had a sudden thought. “Has anyone bothered to work out where the orbit will be at the end of the twenty-eight hours when that thing is supposed to come down?”

“Yes, sir. It has been done.” Dillwater put a slip of paper on the table before him. “The orbit will be swinging down from the north Pacific at that time, cutting across the Gulf of Alaska at that time.”

“That's good,” Bandin said. “We're not going to worry about icebergs and some polar bears.”

“No, sir. But this orbit, the twenty-eighth orbit continues south in a track along the entire west coast of this country. Going over in turn Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego.”

In a stunned silence the enormity of what he had said slowly sank in.

<p>28</p>

GET 15:08

“This is a crew meeting,” Patrick said. “I want you all to know what's been happening with the engines, with everything…”

He was surprised to find himself stumbling over his words. In his years of test piloting he had become used to long hours, even long days of work. Fatigue was something he had learned to control. But he had never been as tired as this before; if he had not been floating in free fall he would have been collapsed on the couch. Not that the others looked any better. If his eyes were as red as Nadya's, he did not want to look into the mirror. Ely's skin was pale with strain and fatigue, the dark marks under his eyes looked as though they had been brushed on with soot. Only the other two looked remotely human. Gregor, still looking dim after his drugged sleep, fought to keep his head erect. Coretta was calm and relaxed. If she was feeling any strain she was not showing it. And she was looking at him with deep concern.

“You look like hell, Patrick,” she said. “And you know you're having difficulty talking?”

“I sure do, doctor. Because I'm plenty tired.”

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