Rickman repeated, “Ursula, come in, Ursula. This is Europa traffic control. Please respond.”
The Governor asked, “How fast are they going?”
Natterling called from the RADAR console, “Too fast to make orbit. They’re either gonna hit us or burn up in Jupiter’s atmosphere, depending on whether they alter course.”
“If they don’t alter course?”
"It’ll be us. Far side, maybe a hundred degrees West. Near Dome Lyria.”
The Governor ordered, “Send a MASER to EarthCon advising them of the situation. And get me Lyria on comms.”
Natterling interjected, “Four minutes. No change.”
“And I was having such a good day.”
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