Chapter 11:

Secret²

Sitting atop Lucifer 6, a hundred million billion miles from Earth, Marvelous sighed each rotation as the Earth rolled into and then out of his view. He couldn’t come up with a really good reason to save the Earth, aside from the fact that it was physically comfortable—unlike his current location. Isolated from the world, in more ways than one, Nathan wondered how things would be if he returned successful. There was a good chance of a parade or celebration of some sort, all uncomfortable at best. After which he’d return to his mansion and resume the habits of the recluse, bothered by those who wished to share his money and fame—or simply make a buck off it—and utterly separated from those he loved.

He thought of the alternatives, of what life should be like if he let the asteroid blow apart the Mediterranean. He could sit atop this rock and watch the atmosphere peel away layer after layer of rock. He would witness the potent reds and yellows of the intense heat of atmospheric friction, hear the deafening crush of rock slamming through the air. He could testify to the heat that… what? Was there a humanly comprehensible comparison? One that made sense? He could say the Sun, or Hell, but nobody really understood those. Assigning them a numerical value, say a million billion degrees, led to nothing but the assumption that it was really really hot—like red hot poker hot, only all over, and much hotter, like napalm.

There was the possibility he wouldn’t live through reentry. That was enticing, not because Marvelous had any sort of death wish or suicidal tendencies, but simply because it was an alternative to the status quo. Marvelous was bored and bothered, and had been for years. In the face of this, the Unknown, the possibility of change, even in death, was quite the enticement.

He thought of all the people that would die, and imagined they were the confidence men, hucksters, and generally selfish people of the world. He imagined they were all busybodies and rumormongers, thieves and pimps, criminals and conspirators. What would be so bad about allowing these parasites to die?

Marvelous wondered if Psychoto would die in the fading embers of a shattered planet. Likely, he would survive in some rat hole and reemerge to plague the remaining survivors.

Of course the evil of the world would not die, only the evil of Italy, the zealots and dictators of Southern Europe (and Northern Africa)—but also all the good people they preyed upon would die, and among them would be many honorable and beautiful individuals of worth. There would be at least a few people of worth—even in Italy—those content to smile in the face of tragedy, going about their business, making the world a better place in their small ways, as doom loomed overhead.

In the end, Nathan did not fear or even pity the potential loss of all these good and beautiful people. Good and beautiful people die all the time, needing little help from Nathan. In the end, the only thing that Nathan feared was the good opinion of one person, the idea that one person would find out that he could have prevented it all, and did not. The person I refer to is not Nathan. He was not quite as narcissistic as all that. As to whom it was, well, that’s a secret, and it’s a doozy of a secret too. It (for lack of a more vague term) was the one thing Marvelous lived for, which was ironic, since he lived without it, had forced it away, afraid not for himself, but for it. Yes, because of his fear, he lived without the one thing he truly loved anymore, and because he’d lived without it for so long, some days he forgot all about it. He hid this secret deep down where nobody could find it (in a small condo in Florida), where he barely thought to think of it himself, where it might be eternally safe.

Today was different though. Today he remembered. He remembered his mother, who never bothered to say, “I told you so” after Kelly dumped him. Who never once asked him to forget about Michelle. Who never tried to parlay his fame into cash. You see, his mother was alive. She lived in that condo located in the greater Miami area, in the small suburb of Townage. Marvelous had fabricated her death, involving only the Whittens, a police captain, and a newly retired coroner in this deception. After finding her alive in the wreckage of his mansion, frenzied and frantic, sure that more attempts would be made on her life, he hid her away, refusing to receive her calls, or allowing her to visit.

Anna Marvelous did as Nathan asked. She hid for herself as much as for him, staying out of view, keeping away from the mansion. Mere paragraphs from finishing another modern classic from that incorrigible Sebastian Sinclair, the rocket propelled grenade smashed her reverie and the ceiling overhead. Everything collapsed, and as the upper levels of the mansion dropped on her, she knew she would die. Yet, somehow she survived. Anna had no idea how she survived. The falling roof knocked her unconscious. She woke pinned under a jumble, terribly hot as the junk smoldered. She managed to wiggle a hand up to the surface—as her son wailed and screamed his terror. Nathan and some unknown gentleman of advancing years pulled her from the wreckage. She went with the man, a doctor, and hid in his mansion for a few days as she convalesced. Thankfully, her injuries were not as dire as they’d initially appeared. Shortly there after, she was smuggled to Miami.

Anna gave in to Nathan’s wishes, content to hide. Days, weeks, months passed. All she received was the occasional note to assure her all was fine with her dear son, even though she knew it was not. The greenhouse was built where her sun room once sat. Pictures were enclosed. But now, almost a year had passed and she missed her boy. Damn the danger. She called. She called again. She took a trip north, stopped by the mansion, and threatened to turn up at the offices of the Cityopolis Cryer to announce her fraud to the world. She figured Nathan would eventually relent, and although he still might, he hadn’t yet. She didn’t know he was riding a rock to a Mediterranean vacation.

Nathan stared at the world below. She was down there on that brilliant blue gem, no closer than she’d been since that day. What would she be doing? Perhaps she was in her living room, curled over a book. Perhaps she was hiking through the everglades. Perhaps she was volunteering at a soup kitchen. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason Nathan would spare Southern Europe (and Northern Africa) from the wrath of Lucifer 6; he would do it for the good opinion of his mom.

Marvelous stared off at the Earth, and thanked the great Whatever that he wouldn’t have to return to the lander. He didn’t wish to talk to command, to explain and excuse and expound upon what had happened, to get another camera and pan left, now right, and stare at the dust covered rock. He wondered what was occurring at command. They must be out of their minds by now. Marvelous smiled to himself. Command only understood what it was to merely get by. They were only interested in self-preservation, in creating commercial viability so people wouldn’t hate them for being such a damned tax burden. They specialized in dreams of adventure, but succumbed to the trivialities of everyday business practice. An agency that should have been ambitious, audacious, demanding that the public dream as big as they do, was instead hamstrung by political chicanery, micromanaging, and a misguided orientation toward financial feasibility. They were beggars, forced to justify their measly budget with quarterly financial results. They created new ways to package food for space travel and silly redundancies such as Velcro and microwave ovens. They recycled their own piss to make it drinkable—yet insisted on making Tang undrinkable. They studied the ways gravity effects spiders and plant growth, instead of sending people back to the moon, or to Mars—all while wondering how they’d lost the interest of the general public.

Marvelous let out another soundless sigh, and turned his back on the Earth as it once again broached the horizon of the asteroid. It was time, he decided, his teeth chattering in the creeping cold. It was time to go home.

Marvelous cracked the seal of the detonator and touched the tiny red button that was the firing mechanism. How convenient that command should provide him with a portable detonator. Letting off the firing pin, Marvelous examined the mechanism a little closer. It was a little disappointing, this simple cylinder about four inches long, and half an inch thick. There was a tiny red button on top, and a smaller antenna jutting from the bottom—and that was it. The little thing reminded him of an arcade joystick back when arcade games had joysticks, back when there were arcades. This felt fake in his hand, as if it would accomplish nothing, just as all that time playing Asteroids and Pacman had been an utter waste.

The thing about space is there is no sound. If there was, the concussion of the very effective array of TIMs and fully capable firing mechanism might have awakened Marvelous to the seriousness of his situation. A signal burst from the firing mechanism, transmitted to the lander, routed to a dozen softball-sized satellites created strictly for the purpose of relaying this signal. The satellites did their meager job, signaling all the TIMs to fire at exactly 23:58:13, Eastern Time. Two seconds later, Nathan felt a rumble through the soles of his feet, but it dissipated as quickly as it came, because his feet separated from the asteroid, and the loss of contact ended the medium through which he felt the percussion of the explosions.

He saw it then, a sliver in the sky, just off the Earth. When he should have been paying attention to the crumbling asteroid under his feet, and devising a way back to the slow drifting lander, instead Marvelous followed the approach of a small star. As it grew, he could see the sheen of metal. A burst enveloped the object, and Marvelous imagined a distant popping sound—although he heard nothing. Suddenly, there were dozens of smaller metallic buttons rushing toward him, getting bigger and bigger…

What was this?

The objects rushed forward, spreading out, most of them flying well away from him, but a few were aimed true, coming right at him. The closest ones took on a definite shape, no longer dots of silver, but spikes, sharp, speeding, and spinning.

The asteroid pulled away from itself, shattered in fragments, as Marvelous contemplated the spikes rushing at him. He prepared to dodge, when it dawned on him that the landscape was totally altered. No longer was there a single asteroid; Lucifer 6 was now a field of rubble slowly drifting further and further apart. Some pieces were as big as cars, or houses, but nothing would have the far-reaching all-out destructive power of the full asteroid. Most of this wouldn’t even hit the surface. The Mediterranean was safe. Tunisia would not vanish under the blue waters of the Middle Earth Sea. Once again, Marvelous had saved the day.

Not that he was safe. Several spikes impacted larger fragments of the asteroid. The spikes bored into the rock, and curiously enough, exploded. Light bloomed and the rock and rubble of the asteroid dispersed even further, crumbling into smaller bits, showering Marvelous with pebbles, gravel, and fist sized stones.

Marvelous turned his full attention to a spike heading straight for him and studied it. The front of the spike was spinning, but it was spinning in rings, each ring in the opposite direction of the one preceding it. Moving as fast as it was, the spike would drill right through him.

No longer touching any part of the asteroid, Nathan did the only thing he could think to do: he attempted to swim out of the spike’s path—but there was nothing for him to push against: no water, no air, no debris close enough. He gasped and tried to dodge as the spike dropped at him, turning out of the way.

He realized it would not be enough. The drill wasn't very big, maybe the size of a backpack, and looked to weigh a good 50-60 lbs in normal gravity. Nathan braced himself, and shoved at the spinning rings with his right hand. Sharp metal bit into the soft flesh of his palm as he forced it away.

The spike soared onward. Marvelous watched it go, happy to escape. He wondered when it would explode. As it drifted farther and farther away, then realized it might not. He couldn’t know that it wouldn’t explode unless the rings got caught. Only once stopped would the device detonate.

His hand burned in the cold of space and flecked the area with red globes of blood. Slowly, the hand scabbed. In a matter of minutes, and despite the cold of space, Nathan's skin regenerated until it was whole and normal. He scratched absentmindedly as the old scab flaked away.

Nathan turned back to the rest of the rubble. Not all of the spikes had exploded, only those that sunk into fragments of the asteroid. How far would they drift? Would they catch in the Moon and give the old man acne?

Marvelous noticed most of the rubble was drifting away from him, shot out from what used to be the center of Lucifer 6. The field of rubble was still expanding. He wondered how much of it would hit the Earth and he realized if some of the asteroid swung out of orbit or passed by the Earth altogether, he too might swing wide and drift endlessly in space. Still, Nathan realized his mistake much too late. His stomach sunk right through his feet.

Where was the Earth? If only he could tell where he was going, but the white-blue marble of Earth was nowhere to be seen.

Marvelous twisted and turned and swung himself about, he slowed himself using small rocks that drifted close, and now he was spinning less. He still couldn’t see the Earth, and hoped it was behind a larger chunk of rubble. He was afraid it had disappeared altogether. Despite the TIMs, despite the spikes, there were several large boulders the size of cars, houses, a couple the size of shopping malls still drifting about. The earth could be behind any one of them.

Nathan tired to relax. There wasn’t anything else to do. He realized he might eventually get sucked to the surface of some other planet or star, crushed under unimaginable pressures, feeling the massive heat of nuclear fission. He might die out here after all—that is—assuming he could die. Otherwise, he would simply wind up wishing he was dead, living on in eternal anguish: a modern Prometheus. Would the heat of a star boil away the very essence of who he was? Nathan didn’t want to find out.

Luckily, such terrible alternatives would not be his fate. He was on the far side of the asteroid when he detonated the charges, and so he lingered with the slowest of the debris—but it would all drift too close to Earth and would be sucked in by the blue jewel’s gravity. From its current location, the debris (and Marvelous) would take just over twenty-five hours to reach Earth. Marvelous didn’t know this, only that he would drift much longer than he wished. But that’s what it would take. Twenty-five hours with nothing but debris and cold to contemplate before crashing to the surface.

Marvelous sighed another soundless sigh and realized the chill was getting worse. Would the cold last? Would he eventually freeze? For hours, Nathan would suffer, until the cold overcame him and he slipped into unconsciousness. He would not awaken until stung by the unbearable heat of reentry as he crashed to the planet below.

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