Impact - By Douglas Preston Page 0,1

laughing, wheezing smoke and coughing. She passed the joint back and Abbey took another long hit.

“Randy’s getting out of Maine State,” said Jackie, lowering her voice.

“Oh God. Randy can sit on a lobster buoy and rotate five times.”

Jackie muffled a laugh.

“What a night,” Abbey said, staring at the immense bowl of stars. “Let’s take some pictures.”

“In the dark?”

Abbey looked over to see if she was kidding, but there was no wry smile on those lips. She felt a wave of affection for her dim, lovable friend. “Believe it or not,” Abbey said, “telescopes work better in the dark.”

“Right. That was stupid.” Jackie knocked on her own head. “Hello?”

They walked out to the end of the pier. Abbey set up the tripod, making sure it was anchored on the wood planking. She could see Orion hanging low in the sky and aimed the telescope in that direction. Using the computer starfinder attached to the telescope, she punched in a preset location. With a whirring of worm-gears, the telescope slewed around to point at a patch at the bottom of Orion’s sword.

“What’re we going to look at?”

“The Andromeda Galaxy.”

Abbey peered into the eyepiece and the galaxy sprang into view, a glowing maelstrom of five hundred billion stars. She felt her throat constricting with the thought of the immensity of it, and her own smallness.

“Lemme see,” said Jackie, sweeping back her long, unruly hair.

Abbey stepped back and silently offered her the eyepiece. Jackie fitted her eye to it. “How far away is it?”

“Two and a quarter million light-years.”

Jackie stared for a while in silence, then stood up. “Think there’s life out there?”

“Of course.”

Abbey adjusted the telescope, zooming out, increasing its field of view, until most of Orion’s sword was visible. Andromeda had shrunk into a little fuzz-ball. She pressed the cable release and heard the faint click as the shutter opened. It would be a twenty-minute time exposure.

A faint breeze came from the ocean, clanking the rigging of a fishing boat, and all the boats in the harbor swung in unison. It felt like the first breath of a storm, despite the dead calm. An invisible loon called from the water and was answered by another one, far away.

“Time for another doobie.” Jackie began rolling a joint, licked it, and put it in her mouth. A click and flare of the lighter illuminated her face, her pale, freckled skin, green Irish eyes, and black hair.

Abbey saw the sudden light before she saw the thing itself. It came from behind the church, the harbor instantly as bright as day; it streaked across the sky in utter silence, like a ghost, and then an immense sonic boom shook the pier, followed by a blast-furnace roar as the thing blazed over the ocean at incredible speed, disappearing behind Louds Island. There was a final flash of light followed by a cannonade of thunder, rolling away over the ocean distances into silence.

Behind her, up in the town, dogs began barking hysterically.

“What the fuck?” Jackie said.

Abbey could see the whole town coming out of their houses and gathering in the streets. “Get rid of the pot,” she hissed.

The road up the hill was filling with people, jabbering away, voices raised in excitement and alarm. They began moving down toward the piers, flashlights flickering, arms pointing skyward. This was the biggest thing that had happened in Round Pond, Maine, since a stray cannonball went through the roof of the Congregational Church in the War of 1812.

Suddenly Abbey remembered her telescope. The shutter was open and still taking a picture. With a trembling hand she found the shutter release and clicked it off. A moment later the image popped up on the telescope’s small LCD screen.

“Oh my God.” The thing had streaked through the center of the image, a brilliant slash of white among a scattering of stars.

“It ruined your picture,” said Jackie, peering over her shoulder.

“Are you kidding? It made the picture!”

2

The next morning, Abbey shoved through the door of the Cupboard Café with a stack of newspapers under her arm. The cheerful log-cabin diner with its checkered curtains and marble tables was almost empty, but she found Jackie sitting in her usual place in the corner, drinking coffee. A damp morning fog pressed against the windowpanes.

She hustled over and slapped The New York Times down on the table, exposing the front-page article below the fold.

Meteor Lights up Maine Coast

Portland, Maine—At 9:44 p.m. a large meteor streaked across the skies of Maine, creating one of the most brilliant meteor