“This is just a rough estimate of how many billions of tons of ash will be thrown into the atmosphere from these explosions,” the scientist said, “not to mention the airborne debris caused by the meteor. We know that the stratosphere will be darkened for as long as two years and that the entire earth will be covered with gritty volcanic ash. The streams, reservoirs, agricultural fields, and city streets—everything will be affected.”

“Doctor,” Al Augustus interjected, “is this absolutely certain? The atmosphere all over the world will be filled with grit?”

“That’s right, Mr. Secretary.”

“Well, what about jet airplanes? Will they be able to fly?”

“The volcanic ash would soon destroy every turbine engine exposed to it,” said Dr. Eisenblatt. “For a period of time, it seems, flight will be restricted—if not eliminated altogether.”

“Then, what about land-based vehicles like automobiles?” Al Augustus persisted.

“In my opinion,” Dr. Eisenblatt continued, “the volcanic ash would work its way into every engine or piece of machinery exposed to it. Obviously, a closed system water-cooled engine would be less susceptible than an air-driven turbine.”

“How long are we talking about?”

“The ash will fall for several weeks. Perhaps a month. Then, it must be cleaned up. We will be faced with removing as much as two feet of ash and sludge from much of the United States. Some of it will never be removed. Eventually, it will be washed away and will settle at the bottoms of the rivers, the lakes, and the oceans.”

“You mean that we can’t fly for the next month or two?” Al Augustus snorted.

“Not in jets. For that matter, I wouldn’t consider flying in a piston airplane for at least a week, except in a grave emergency.”

The stir in the room was growing louder. “But what about national defense?” the secretary of defense asked.

“Not to be flip, Mr. Secretary, but that may be about the only good news I can offer. I don’t believe we’ll need to worry about war for some time,” he said with a wry smile. “Most of our weapons of war are already out of commission, and those that remain simply will not function in this type of environment.”

“You mean that the ships are sunk, the planes can’t fly, the tanks will break down, and the barrels of the artillery pieces will be corroded?” Augustus asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

The secretary of state spoke up. “My European counterparts are calling for an immediate summit to deal with this crisis. Are you saying there cannot be a meeting?”

“Mr. Secretary,” Dr. Eisenblatt replied, “within a few hours, all global travel by jet airplanes must, of necessity, be terminated. I cannot promise how reliable satellite communications will be through clouds of volcanic ash. I’m afraid that soon satellite photographs will no longer be possible.”

“But we must meet to make plans!” The secretary of state was clearly getting upset.