“Oh my God, Walt, are you sure?”
“Yeah. So here’s Helsinki. They just came on. They got the same results…Japan too. This thing’s gonna hit.”
Until now, neither man had conversed, remaining focused on their own computers in an empty room full of other computers.
The man who first spoke left his station and moved near Walter’s shoulder for a better view of his screen.
“Model says 42.3 degrees North, 72.6 East…Northhampton, Massachusetts.”
“When, Walt? What’s it say, I mean when…exactly?”
Walter continued reading.
“Same as we got — 02:46. In twenty-one hours.”
“Jesus Christ! What are we gonna do?”
“Gonna do? What the fuck, Harold, the thing’s over a quarter mile wide! It’s gonna obliterate everything within a five-hundred-mile radius. I don’t know what to tell you. There will be nothing left. Think about it. The ice cap will melt, adding twelve feet to the ocean. England will go under along with half of Europe. That’s right away. In forty-five-minutes, there will be a tidal wave that will take out the Eastern Seaboard. Gonna do? Jesus, Man!”
“I’m sorry Walt, I know, it’s just, I just never thought this could really actually happen…to us!”
Walter pushed back on his chair from his desk, and the two men looked at each other. Then Walter turned back to his computer and finally spoke.
“No one did. Harold. Been spending all our time making bombs and killing each other. We should have made a shield or something. Worked together. Fucking politicians.”
Both men moved their attention back to Walter’s screen.
“Look, here’s New Delhi. They’re predicting it might change the tilt…alter the orbit even. Oh, great. Now Los Alamos thinks it’s only the first in a storm. We can forget packing, Pal. We’re not outrunning this.”