Free Tumble & Fall by Alexandra Coutts Page B

the crowd, a confused murmur as people stand in clusters facing the stage. They hear a high-pitched squealing noise, feedback from the speakers, and then a woman’s voice.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for just a minute.” The woman is tall and thin. She clutches a clipboard to her chest and huddles at one corner of the stage. “My name is Miranda Lowe, I’m on the board of directors here at the Community Center, and…” She takes a deep breath and fiddles around with the microphone, sending more piercing feedback into the crowd. “I’m sorry about that, I’m just, I wanted to use this time to thank you for coming, but I’ve been told that the, uh, the president, is holding an emergency press conference. I figured it’s something you’d all want to hear, so … Daniel, if you would…”
    Miranda nods offstage to a gray-haired man in a leather jacket, busy rigging up another microphone and holding it out to an old-fashioned boom box.
    “What’s going on?” Sienna asks. Owen shakes his head and Sienna feels Ryan’s small hand slipping inside her own. A crackle fills the air, followed by loud, offensive static. The man plays with a knob until a clear, familiar voice comes through.
    “Good evening.” The president’s voice is fierce and sudden, and a thick, reverent silence settles into every corner of the room. “As of six o’clock this evening, we have new information about the asteroid Persephone and her course. As many of you may be aware, under my authorization the Department of Defense has approved a new mission, in conjunction with NASA officials and the International Space Alliance: an attempt to deflect the asteroid away from a potential collision with our planet.”
    There is a pause, a somewhere shuffling of papers. People turn their heads at similar angles, glancing around as if the president could very well be among them. On the radio, he clears his throat. “According to plans I have reviewed with my advisers and other world leaders, the B-eighty-three one-point-two-megaton nuclear-tipped rocket will be launched from a classified location shortly, and will indeed make contact with Persephone, exactly three days from today.”
    There is a ripple through the crowd, people turning to their neighbors with questions in their eyes. Sienna feels a tightness closing in around her heart. Owen’s shoulder is pressed against hers, and she feels herself leaning into him just slightly. Up near the stage, there’s a celebratory shout, and a group of guys are slapping each other on the backs. They’re starting to get rowdy when somebody else across the room yells, “Quiet!”
    The static is back and the president’s voice returns. This time, he sounds less certain and rehearsed, like he’s suddenly gone off script. “As you … as you know, there’s no way we can effectively predict what will happen from here. We can’t guarantee that even the most successful impact will destroy the asteroid completely. And there are, of course, risks involved. But we are … very … hopeful that this course of action is the single best chance we’ve been given to steer Persephone in a different direction.”
    The high-pitched buzzing is back and all around the room people are cheering. On the stage the woman taps repeatedly into the microphone, and the man with the gray hair is waving his hands over his head. The president is still talking, but nobody cares. Sienna strains to listen.
    “I must caution you all that there may be changes in the coming days. Persephone’s course has been tracked and studied for many, many years, and we now know, with what I’m afraid is great certainty, that if left unchecked, she will strike our planet in less than one week.”
    Sienna feels Ryan’s fingers untangle from her wrist and she looks to see that Dad is there, too, lifting Ryan to his hip and whispering steadily into his hair. Sienna stands frozen and wonders what to do now with her hands.