"Terminal?" Arthur asked.

"My doctors say perhaps not. But I've been reading." He shrugged. "These new treatments—"

"Very promising. I have hope. But you must see . . ." Harry turned his bright gaze on Arthur. "This thing's as big as Ayers Rock, and it's been there how long?"

"No more than six months. Survey satellites mapped that area just over six months ago and it wasn't there."

Harry grinned broadly. "That's wonderful. That's truly wonderful. What the hell is it, Arthur?"

"A piece of Europa, perhaps?" Arthur's voice was far away. His friend still wouldn't meet his gaze.

Harry laughed out loud and flung his napkin on the table. "I’ll not be sad and weepy. Not with this."

Arthur's throat tightened. He had practically grown up with Harry. They had known each other for thirty years. He couldn't possibly be dying. Arthur coughed. "We'll become adults with this one, Harry. The whole human race. I need you very much—"

"Can you take on a might-be invalid?" Now their eyes met, and this time Arthur glanced away, shoulders stiff. With an effort, he looked back. "You'll make it, Harry."

"Lord, speak of will to live."

"Join the team."

Harry wiped his eyes with the forefinger of his right hand. "Travel? I mean, much—"

"At first, but you can stay in Los Angeles if you wish, later."

"I'll need that. The treatment is at UCLA."

Arthur offered his hand. "You'll make it."

"After this, maybe it won't be so bad," Harry said. He took the offered hand and squeezed it firmly.

"What?"

"Dying. What a thing to see . . . Little green men, Arthur?"

"Are you with us?"

"You know I am."

"Then you get the big picture. It's not just Australia. There's something in the Mojave Desert, Death Valley, between a resort called Furnace Creek and a little town called Shoshone. It resembles a cinder cone. It's new. It doesn't belong there."

Harry grinned like a little boy. "Wonderful."

"And yes, there's an LGM."

"Where?"

"For the moment, Vandenberg Air Force Base."

Harry glanced at the ceiling and lifted both arms, tears spilling from his eyes. "Thank you, Lord."

PERSPECTIVE

WorldNet USA Earthpulse,

October 5, 1996:

Almost all's well with the world today. No earthquakes, no typhoons, no hurricanes approaching land. Frankly, we'd say today was bright and glorious, but for early light snows in the northeastern United States, rain by tonight in the Pacific Northwest, and the confirmation last week that the ever-popular El Niño has returned to the South Pacific . Australians are bracing for another long drought in the face of this climactic scourge.

3

When Trevor Hicks told Shelly Ternane, his publicist, that the morning interview with KGB was on, she paused, snickered, and said, "Vicky won't like you turning traitor." Vicky Jackson was his editor at Knopf.

"Tell her it's FM, Shelly. I'm going to be squeezed between the surf report and the morning news."

"The KGB do a surf report?"

"Look, it was on your list of stations," he said, mock-exasperated. "I'm not responsible."