“That one didn’t,” Alice said. “The widow said he was murdered, and the Bull Elephant wasn’t happy about it, either.”
“An interesting mystery,” Arvid said. “Who might have killed him?”
“We’ll never know,” Dawson said.
“Why do you say that?” Dmitri demanded. “The Leader told the widow that he would find the murderer. He has great resources. Why would he fail?”
“Why would he tell us? If he did, would we know the name? Hey, I read mysteries too, but I expect to know the names of suspects!”
“The Bull isn’t a detective,” Jen said. “He has too much else to do. And — people, I’m kind of scared. All this violent maneuvering, they’re going to do something special, but what?”
“I am very much afraid we all know,” Arvid Rogachev said.
Jeri took a fresh grip on the wall carpeting.
“Major! Major, wake up!”
Jenny sat bolt upright. “Yes, Sergeant?”
“Message from Australia, ma’am. They’ve seen it!”
Oh my God. She strained to open her eyes and peered through sleep at her watch. Five A.M.
“Comin’ fast, about an hour to impact,” Sergeant Ferguson said.
“The Admiral—”
“Mailey already woke him up. ’Scuse me, ma’am, I got to get the others.”
The Threat Team had split into two groups around the coffeepot and the large globe. Ransom and Curtis already had coffee, and were tracing paths on the globe.
“Water. I was sure of it,” Ransom said.
“Sure,” Curtis muttered. “Why at bloody dawn?”
“Why water?” a naval officer asked.
Ransom didn’t look up from the globe. “Lieutenant, a meteorite that size actually does more damage if it hits water. It’ll rip through the water and the ocean floor into the magma. The energies don’t go back to space; the water absorbs them, and you get even more heat from the exposed magma. It all goes into boiling the ocean. We think a quarter of a billion tons of seawater may vaporize. Salt rains all over the world …”
Jenny shuddered. “How many people will it kill?”
“Lots,” Curtis said. “Look.” He traced a path northward from the Indian Ocean. “Bays. They funnel the tsunamis, let them build even higher before they break. Calcutta, Bombay, the Rann of Kutch — all gone. Persian Gulf, same thing. East Africa—”
“We have to warn them!”
“I’m sure the Aussies have done that,” Ransom said.
“It does not matter.” Admiral Carrell’s voice was even.
Jenny reflexively straightened to attention. “Sir?”
“We have no reliable communications with East Africa. I believe that Mr. Ransom is correct and that the Australians have sent a warning, but if not—”
“They’ll know soon enough,” Curtis said. “What about ships? Subs? We still have communications with the submarine fleet, don’t we?”
“In fact, yes,” Carrell said. “Our long-wave devices still function. I have already given the appropriate orders.”
Reynolds came over with coffee. Curtis pointed to a spot on the globe. Reynolds bent to examine it.
“Tsunamis. Hurricanes. I wish we knew exactly where it’ll hit,” Curtis said. “Maybe we could tell just how much weather slop will get into the Northern Hemisphere.”
“Lots,” Ransom said. “It’s too near the equator.”
“Mess up both hemispheres,” Reynolds said. “Neat.”
“Fear, fire, foes,” Curtis muttered. “Tsunamis, hurricanes, rainstorms…” He stood with a satisfied look. “One thing, it won’t hurt Bellingham.”
“That’s a comfort,” someone said.
“Goddam right it is,” Curtis said. “About the only one we’ve got.”
“As strategy it’s hard to beat,” Joe Ransom said. “Look when the tidal waves—”
“Shut up,” a young naval officer shouted. “Later, man, but for now just shut up.”
Jenny bent over to listen as Curtis and Ransom continued to talk.
To the east: the island of Madagascar would shadow Mozambique and South Africa, a little. The waves would wash Tanzania, Kenya, the Somali Democratic Republic, wash them clean of life. Northeast, it would wash the Saudi Arabian peninsula. The Arabian Sea would focus the wave; a mountain range of water would march into Iran and Pakistan. That’s the end of OPEC, Jenny thought with a flash of vindictive triumph. The end of the oil too.
India would be covered north to the mountains. The Bay of Bengal would focus the wave again: it might cross Burma as far as China. The islands of the Java Sea would be inundated. The wave would wash across western Australia…
“My God,” the naval officer said in sudden realization. “They’ll try to land afterward, of course, but where?”
“That’s why it’s such a—”
“Marvelous strategy, yes, Mr. Ransom,” Admiral Carrell said. “Where would we send our fleets? India? Saudi Arabia? Australia? Africa?”
“South Africa,” Curtis said. “Look here. Most of the industry and white population are down at sea level. Tsunamis will wreck all that. Beyond the coast is the Drakensberg escarpment, up to the high plateau country, and that’ll survive just fine. So they land at Johannesburg and Pretoria and they have themselves an isolated industrial foothold.”
Admiral Carrell bent over to examine the globe. “Perhaps …”
A horp warbled through the room. “Now hear this. Ten minutes to estimated time of impact.”
The room fell silent.
