Chapter 17

Slowly vectoring RASE’s observatory’s huge telescope around on its track, bringing it to bear on the asteroidal debris field created by Maht’s cataclysmic destruction, JimKas is fascinated by what he sees.

One sar has passed since the main event.

Nibiru has orbited far away from Apsu, and has then come back around, to pass by the locus of the near collision.

Over the past several months, he has observed great changes in the orbital arrangements of the thousands of asteroids produced by Maht. Some are the size of Nibiru’s smaller moons, others remind him of the bungee balls he played with as a kid.

JimKas recites his observations aloud, his words being simultaneously e-corded to securlink channels and entered to e-tablatures by his young aide, Second Astro Veh.

“Sar thirty-nine, month seven, week two, day four: time zero three hundred hours. The main body of the field of asteroids created from Nibiru’s near collision with Maht is being rapidly captured by Apsu’s gravity…”

“…Asteroidal ring formations overall are gravitationally unstable… Unit radial displacements are non-systematic… Unit interstices are in constant flux… Unit vectoring interactions are ongoing… and are collision- and abrasion-prone.”

JimKas looks over to see if Second Astros Veh is getting it all down. She looks up, smiles, sees his raised eyebrows and gives him a thumbs up.

“Got you covered, leader!”

He chuckles under his breath. Covered? he thinks.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, their asteroidal ring imaging is complete. The ring has been named, “Hammered Bracelet.”

JimKas allows Second Astros Veh to rotate the huge telescope to his specifications. They are vectoring on the new planet, the remains of Maht’s destruction. Kas has given the planet the official name, Ki.

Even with the telescope set at fifty-percent power, JimKas sees evidence of geological evolutions of massive proportions. He confirms the violent movements are forcing Ki’s oceans into new shapes.

Kas upscales the telescope’s power setting, then swings it along the planet’s equatorial line. Closing on one of its largest blue-green oceans, he refocuses until he clearly sees an interesting feature lying at its depths.

It appears to be a deep gash in the planet’s crust, a huge canyon. Wide and long, with submerged mountains ringing it at a distance.

No slow geological evolution, Kas thinks.

This was—relatively speaking—an almost instantaneous change, monumentally violent to extremes.

A vague memory knocks at the back of his mind, and JimKas temple-activates his comset, then enters a code on his compad.

“GiLok’s house of pleasure. What’s yours?” “I see you are developing a sense of humor, Guy.”

“A sick one, Jimi. If you had to lay out one hundred lousy talens a month for shake and quake therapy, you would be sick too.”

“I have a question for you, GiLok.”

“Name it.”

“Were you e-cording during Maht’s destruction, way back when?”

“Yes, I was. In full living color.

” Did you keep the disks? Or did you record over the top of them?”

“No, I keep all my original disks. Labeled, dated, e-filed numerically.”

JimKas sniggers under his breath. “Do they not take up a lot of space?”

GiLok laughs, then snicks, and clears his throat, then is silent for a moment.

“Now that you mention it, one whole wall of my guest chamber is covered with my important disks.”

“Do not worry, old man, I only need to review a few of them.”

“Which would those be, Jimi?”

“The sequences showing the exact moment Horu collided with Maht.”

“Which spherical axis do you want? Latitudinal, longitudinal or radial?”

“All three, Guy. I need all three as soon as possible.”

GiLok is reluctant to spend time on someone else’s project. “A whole lot of sequencing, my friend. What are you working on?”

“Well-l-l, it is classified, but I will tell you this. Your name will be attached to the resulting official e-documents. Will that suffice?”

GiLok’s hopes are dashed for the moment. “I guess it will have to do. Copies of the requested disks will be delivered by angeline.”

* * *

When JimKas finally steps back up on the telescope’s supporting gridiron, Second Astro Vey has her face glued to the telescope’s viewing cowl, softly oohing and aahing in awe.

Kas taps her on the shoulder and she starts, caught off-guard. Stepping away from the telescope she smiles with embarrassment.

“I was just…”

JimKas struggles to maintain a straight face, “I know what you were just, Second Astro Vey. As long as none of the settings were changed.”

“The only setting that changed was my eye, focusing on Ki.”

“Excellent recovery, Veh. Now. Re-vector on the planet’s lower pole and stand aside. I need to start shooting fresh images of Ki’s lower pole.”

His new vector in the sights, it appears to Kas, large areas of ice are beginning to form all across the pole. “Vey. Scan the four time-lapsed images I just sent to you. Then look at this polar vector and tell me what you see.”

Second Astro Vey brings up Kas’ images on her compad, reads the associated info streams, then steps up to the telescope and peers through the viewer. She looks down at her compad, back at the telescope, and back to her compad.

“The layer of ice… is growing at an extremely fast rate. I did not think ice crystals could grow that fast!”

“That’s good, Vey, but recall snowflakes. So, what can you deduce from your observations?”

Second Astro Vey stares at Kas, the gears turning. Entering a calculation into her compad, when she sees the results she gasps.

“Either my compad is malfunctioning, or this is phenomenal!”

JimKas reaches for her compad, saying, “Let me see your calculations.”

Kas reads her numbers, then runs it on his own compad. He too, is surprised.

“Your numbers are correct, Vey. The growth rate is phenomenal.”

He quickly runs another set of numbers. “In one sar, Ki’s south polar ice will have thickened to three hundred meters in depth. Over the entire continent.”

“I can’t even conceive of such a volume,” Vey says. “Much less consider the mass’s weight.”

Kas begins a teaching method used by the Sect of Shem philosophers, drawing out the student’s answers by speaking quickly, “Follow me on this, Vey… A layer of ice of its size and weight will at some point in time exert extreme pressure on the land mass below it, and…?”

She responds a little faster, “…Extreme pressure will melt the bottom ice…”

He even faster, “…and the ground beneath the melt will liquefy…”

She blurts out, “…And the ice layer could slip off into the water…”

“Like a gigantic melting ice cube…” Kas comes to a jarring realization.

The seriousness of the content of their roundel catches up with him, and he says, “Do you know what an event like that would do, Vey? Do you recall what a stone dropped into a lake does, to the water surrounding its entry point?”

“Yes, it produces ripples, or rings.”

“Increase that effect by about a million times. Think beachfront big.”

“Waves?”

“Very big waves, Vey, monumental even. Possibly a hundred meters or more, inundating land masses—everything—before them.”

Vey’s enthusiasm seems to be waning, Kas realizes, he has overtaxed her. He turns and powers down the telescope, then says, “You should go home and rest, Vey. You look tired, and this old man has overdone it once again.”

“No, leader. You were absolutely inspiring. Although I am tired.”

At the exit, Kas puts a hand on Vey’s arm. She turns to him expectant and smiling, but with weary eyes.

“You should be proud of yourself, Second Astro Vey. You did good today.”

Vey takes her gravtrol ring out of her shoulder brief and activates it. Floating a half meter off the floor she looks happy, and salutes her leader, fist over heart.

“There is not one thing I would not do for my king, Leader JimKas.”

“Accepted, and returned, Second Astro Vey. Good journey.”

JimKas lightly brushes against Vey’s gravtrol field, interrupting her rotation.

“Wait a moment, Vey.”

“Yes, leader?”

“Remember… You and I may or may not live to see such an event take place. But most importantly, the event will happen there, on Ki. Not here.”