Molinari was standing with a bespectacled little gray-haired man wrapped in a frumpy blue sweater. "Janet, this is Wesley Feinberg of Harvard's AstroLab. He came up here for the total eclipse and hasn't gone home yet. Professor Feinberg, I wonder if you can tell us what's going to happen this weekend."

Parmentier was watching the Captain to try to guess what was wrong.

"… really hard to say, Dan. Anything could happen. There's just no way to predict accurately the aftermath of an event this explosive."

"Professor, we've seen that a lot of people are worried about the oceans. How do you feel about that? Is there a real danger for those who live in coastal areas?"

"Certainly. If I lived on a beachfront, I'd want to be away from it for the next few days. Wouldn't you? Denver's nice this time of year."

McConnell muted the sound, leaving the two images to continue their conversation silently. He looked across the vast expanse of his cherrywood desk, directly at Parmentier. "Well, Chuck," he said, "what do you think?"

"It's a damned good story," said Parmentier. "I don't think I understand what you're driving at, Captain."

Kendrick looked from his boss to the Captain. Parmentier was usually pretty quick on his feet, but when he thought he had a story he could run with he sometimes became obtuse. Kendrick knew right away where this was going, but he was far too shrewd to embarrass the man who signed his paycheck.

McConnell's eyebrows drew together. "Have you considered," he asked, "what will happen if we succeed in panicking two hundred fifty million people? Not to mention our overseas audience?"

Parmentier's face reddened. "Captain, this is a very big story. What do you want us to do? Sit on it?"

"I don't like the way we're playing it, Chuck. We could instigate a major disaster. There've already been deaths out there."

"Accidents."

"They happen when people go around the bend. We are in the process of driving a lot of people around the bend." He spared a glance for Kendrick, who tried to look as if he'd thought all along they should be going easy on this.

"We have a responsibility to the public," Parmentier said.

"Goddammit, Chuck, save that kind of talk for the politicians. This is me. I will not be responsible for creating several nights of mayhem. For killing God knows how many people before this is over. And maybe inviting a few lawsuits."

Parmentier was not a man to be threatened lightly, even by the Captain. "We have no choice, sir," he said, pronouncing each word deliberately and with a touch of outrage, "but to present the truth to our viewers. The truth is that there may be major disruptions over the next few days. Places like New York are vulnerable. It's our job to tell them what we know."

McConnell's eyes grew hard and he looked at Kendrick. "Bruce, I wanted you in here because I thought this was something we all need to agree on. What's your opinion?"

Kendrick cleared his throat and started to talk in circles. "Never mind," said the Captain. "I can see you'll try to protect your boss. And that's good, Bruce. Up to a point. But this-" He got up and studied a Remington on his desk. "The truth is, Bruce, that we really don't know what's going to happen. Everything is speculation, and speculation should not be passed off as hard news. Do I make myself clear?"

"I suppose," said Parmentier, "we could shift the emphasis."

"Yes," said the Captain. "That's exactly what we will do. We will shift the emphasis."

His tone suggested that, unless anyone wanted to debate the issue, the interview was over. Parmentier and Kendrick rose. Kendrick said he'd get right on it. And both men started for the door.

"One more thing," said McConnell. "Over the weekend-"

"Yes, sir?"

"We'll do the network broadcasts from field stations. See Jim. He's already setting it up. I don't want any of our people in the building, or anywhere near the city, after tomorrow." White House, Oval Office. 4:48 P.M.

Feinberg smiled innocuously out of the screen. "Certainly. If I lived near an ocean, I'd want to be away from it for the next few days. Wouldn't you? Denver's nice this time of year."

Henry killed the picture. "Sometimes I wish for the old days," he said.

"How do you mean, Henry?" asked Kerr.

"When national leaders could have nitwits shot. There's a lot to be said for that." He'd just finished a conference call with his counterparts in Japan, Britain, Germany, Russia, and China. Everyone was adrift. Germany and Russia were acting, moving people inland. They could do that. They didn't have thousands of miles of coastline to concern themselves with. Others were taking moderate measures, stockpiling supplies, planning for disaster relief, and putting the military on standby. Britain and Japan, without any interior to speak of, were at the mercy of events.

Henry didn't like his own policy, which consisted of watching, waiting, and trying to reassure everyone. Of hoping he could ride it out. We'll deal with the consequences as they arise, he told himself. Maybe we'll get lucky. Some religious leaders were urging him to declare a national day of prayer. That was all the nation would need during a crisis, to see its president on his knees.

Nobody makes it to the Oval Office without taking a lot of heat. By the time he arrives, he's scarred, cynical, tough, single-minded. And he doesn't believe anybody or anything can't be handled. (Or she doesn't. The United States had had its first woman president. She'd served one term, 2017-2021, and refused the nomination for a second with the comment, Not worth it.)

She was wrong, of course. It was worth it. Henry knew that. And every other politician in the country worthy of the name knew it. Even in times like this, when so much depended on his decisions, and the way was so murky, it was worth it. Especially in times like this. There was no chance at greatness without a decent challenge. He'd been concerned that he would disappear into the history books with people like Polk and Cleveland, effective presidents who might have ranked high had a sufficient misfortune risen to confront them. You can't be a Lincoln without a civil war. It now appeared he had his civil war.

Despite the overwhelming nature of the problem, he'd thrown aside his dark mood of the morning. He needed to get everything right. And he needed to be lucky.

But there was no reason to believe that would not happen.

"An Indonesian plane crashed in the Bay of Bengal today with all aboard, two hundred seventy people, believed lost. Rescue operations are hampered by bad weather.

"Rebels in Patagonia admitted responsibility for the bombing of a government office building, where eleven people, including an American diplomat, were killed last week.

"Here at home, people continue to take to the roads in unprecedented numbers, frightened by reports that pieces of the Moon might fall into the oceans Saturday night. We should remind our viewers that many scientists have said that such an event is unlikely. This is Bruce Kendrick with the World Report." White House Rose Garden. 7:44 P.M.

In the evening, Henry could see the comet. It was a bright, blurry patch in the west, lingering for a short time after sunset. It would, astronomers noted, move rapidly up the sky over the next few nights.

Delivered over all networks.

"My fellow Americans,

"As you're aware, Comet Tomiko is approaching the Moon, and is expected to collide with it Saturday evening at approximately ten thirty-five P.M. eastern daylight time.