As Marcus drives the black van through Beringsford, Jeremy spots a hill with a winding walking trail marked by wooden stakes. Opposite the trail is the familiar green, yellow and red branding of Beringsford Burger.
“Stop,” Sarra calls to Marcus. “I want some possum nuggets!”
“Now’s not the time,” says Chatravati. Jeremy wonders if it is ever time to eat possum nuggets.
They pass the Beringford truck stop and another few blocks of grubby houses.On almost every street corner there are children playing in the dirt or riding bikes. The houses give way to fields of grain and Jeremy can see tractors in the distance, ploughing the earth against a backdrop of blue sky.
Eventually the farms recede and they are driving past empty scrubland, dotted with the occasional pine tree, or section of woody forest. It is not much longer before Marcus guides the van down a bumpy, rock-laden road. As they continue along it, the three riding in the back are forced to bow their heads so that they don’t hit them on the ceiling each time the van becomes airborne.
“Is that really necessary, Marcus,” grumbles Chatravati as one particularly hard jolt almost shakes him to the floor.
A moment later the van is slowing slowing down and Marcus is telling them that they’ll have to travel the rest of the way on foot.
“Are you there, Conor?” asks Chatravati, flicking a switch on a monitor in the back of the van. After a moment Conor’s voice crackles back at them.
“I’m here,” he says. “Marcus is right, you’ll need to walk the rest of the way. The impact zone is over a ridge to the west of your current location.”
“Sarra,” Conor continues. “Take the grey box, I don’t want to miss a thing.”
Sarra reaches under the seat and draws out a metallic case. Marcus swings open the rear doors of the van and Jeremy jumps out. Chatravati follows and Sarra comes last, swinging the computer case beside her.
Marcus has brought them to a shallow valley dominated by grey rock. The earth underfoot is more stone than soil, which would explain why there’s no farm here. Heavy, ancient pine trees protrude from amongst the stones. Green and yellow scrub covers the sides of the valley and delicate pink flowers with bright yellow stamens waver in the breeze.
The sun is high overhead and Jeremy wipes perspiration from his brow. During the drive he had almost forgotten why they were coming here in the first place, but now he can’t help but wonder if an alien death-ray is set to strike him at any minute.
Marcus shares Jeremy’s concerns, tapping each of them on the shoulder in turn and motioning silently in the direction they need to travel. Together they start up the side of the ridge. The sun beats down on them and reflects blindingly off the metallic case of the computer.
It takes them a little more than fifteen minutes to make it up the side of the valley. Marcus extends a hand to help each one of them to the top in turn. “There she is,” he says when the four of them are standing shoulder to shoulder.
Beyond the valley lies a field that may once have been used to grow crops, but has long since been overrun by weeds. At the very center of the field is a roughly spherical chunk of space-rock. The ground beneath the rock has cracked like a pane of glass that has been struck by a baseball… a very big baseball. Cracks in the earth zig-zag out to the low wooden fence that surrounds the field.
“Woah,” says Jeremy.