Chapter 29 (Point of Impact 1): The Safe House

65 million years ago, Venus.

Nikola Tesla’s living quarters and his laboratory were both located on the 33rd floor of the same hotel. His residence was Room 3327, and the adjoining Room 3328 served as his workspace. Dean Abbott, tasked with collaborating with Tesla to quickly devise a plan to save Venus from its crisis, had also moved into this hotel; thus, Room 3328 became their shared laboratory.

Tesla’s proposed plan was as bold as it was daunting, with countless factors to be considered. As the president of the Academy of Sciences, overseeing all scientific research on Venus, Abbott meticulously unraveled the complexities, insisting the entire team prioritize the most critical issues that would determine the plan’s success.

The cataclysmic rupture of Mars would hurl millions of fragments into space in an instant, releasing immense energy. What would be the consequences for the other planets of the solar system, including Venus and Earth? At precisely which orbital positions would the planets be truly safe?

According to Tesla’s proposal, wasn’t the extraction of genetic material and the uploading of consciousness also vital? Why, then, should the safety of planetary orbits be considered first?

The answer was simple: the destruction of Mars was meant to stabilize—or, more accurately, to save—the structure of the solar system. If the planets themselves could not be kept safe, what hope was there for the survival of Venusian humanity?

“Nikola, at what point in their orbits should the planets be to minimize the impact when Mars ruptures?” Abbott asked.

“Certainly as far from Mars as possible, but not directly opposite it—if a planet, Mars, and the Sun were aligned in a straight line, it would trigger a superluminal wave reaction due to planetary interference. The optimal safety angle is an eight-hour separation on the celestial sphere—120 degrees in ecliptic longitude,” Tesla replied.

Abbott, thoroughly versed in celestial mechanics, analyzed further, “The influence of being 120 degrees ahead of Mars in its orbit is surely quite different from being 120 degrees behind.”

“Correct. When Mars ruptures, the fragments, propelled by centrifugal force, will be cast outward and backward. Clearly, the position 120 degrees ahead of Mars is the safer one.”

“According to your plan, Earth is our future home and must be especially protected. So, Earth should be at 120 degrees ahead of Mars when the rupture occurs, is that right?” Abbott asked.

“Yes. At the moment of rupture, not only should Earth lead Mars by 120 degrees in longitude, it should also be as far from the plane of the ecliptic as possible in latitude. Ideally, this would occur on the Northern Hemisphere’s winter solstice, because compared to the summer solstice, Earth is then closer to perihelion—thus farther from Mars,” Tesla explained.

“There’s another issue: the massive Saturnian ice ring acts like a lens, with Venus positioned precisely at the focus of the superluminal wave diffraction. If Venus and Saturn were also situated 120 degrees ahead of Mars, the shockwave from Mars’s rupture would provoke intense solar activity, threatening Earth’s orbital stability,” Abbott remarked.

Tesla silently admired his old friend’s expertise. “Yes, so we must position Venus and Saturn 120 degrees behind Mars in its orbit. The benefit is that, after the Sun is disturbed by the excess energy from Mars, it will unleash powerful solar flares in the direction where Venus and Saturn are aligned, making Earth’s direction even safer.”

Connecting via his lightning sphere to the external brain, Tesla double-checked their calculations. The external brain’s answer aligned closely with their reasoning, adding only that Mercury should also be placed at the conjunction of Venus and Saturn, to absorb and shield against the vast energy released by the Sun’s flares.

The two men opened a holographic celestial sphere, calculating the orbital periods and relative positions. On Earth’s winter solstice, Mars and Earth are separated by 120 degrees, while Venus, Mercury, and Saturn are aligned at the same longitude, 120 degrees on the opposite side from Earth. Earth, Mars, and Venus neatly bisect the celestial sphere’s 360 degrees, forming a perfect equilateral triangle.

Their urgency in calculating these coordinates stemmed from the fact that “placing” planets in the right positions was mere theory. The actual moment when the planets would naturally assume these ideal relative positions depended entirely on their synodic periods.

Tesla once again connected to the external brain, calling up the relevant synodic periods: using the Northern Hemisphere’s winter solstice as the fixed point, Earth’s orbital period is 365 days, and the synodic periods of Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Saturn relative to Earth are 117, 584, 780, and 378 days respectively.

The least common multiple of these five periods is 7,174,440 days—about 19,643 Earth years. That would be the time for a perfect alignment, with each day corresponding to a precise longitude. If a small margin of error, say plus or minus one degree, were allowed, the synodic period would be about 5,125 years, according to Tesla’s calculation.

“We can’t possibly wait over five thousand years! Let’s check when the next occurrence of this celestial configuration will be.” Abbott spoke as he rapidly shifted the celestial sphere’s time coordinates.

Coincidence? Luck? Abbott had no time to ponder. He set the celestial sphere to a certain date and exclaimed, “Thirteen years! Heaven bless the people of Venus; in thirteen years, the configuration we need will appear.”

Nikola Tesla had already received the same answer from the external brain but hadn’t had a chance to speak. Seeing his friend’s delight, he too could barely contain his excitement. Without waiting for Abbott’s next question, he continued, “Although Earth will be in the so-called safe position, 120 degrees ahead of Mars’s orbit, a few fragments from the explosion will inevitably strike the planet. We must protect the Tower Island power station, so the impact point must be on the far side from the station.”

“We Venusians use Earth merely as an exile, and haven’t defined its prime meridian. If we designate Tower Island in the New Tethys Ocean as 90 degrees east longitude, then the impact site should be at 90 degrees west, correct?” Abbott asked.

“Yes, I’ve only visited Earth’s eastern hemisphere—the Victoria Wetlands and Tower Island in the New Tethys Ocean. The far side of Tower Island would be in the western hemisphere.” Tesla pointed to a bay between two continents on Earth’s western hemisphere.

“Those two continents are teeming with dinosaurs. Not only you, but no Venusian has ever set foot there, so the place has no name. Why don’t you name the chosen impact site?” Abbott suggested.

Tesla hesitated, unsure what to call it, but the moment he connected to the lightning sphere, the external brain supplied a name: MAYA.

Having considered the safety of the planets and the structure of the solar system, Dean Abbott turned his thoughts to the safety of the carriers of Venusian genetic material and consciousness. He asked, “According to our plan, before Mars ruptures, we must successfully extract the genes and upload the consciousness of Venusian humanity. The carriers will also need to include researchers and engineers, ourselves included, to guard them. Where will we hide when the time comes?”

“Yes, when Mars ruptures, Jupiter and all planets inside its orbit will be scorched by the flames. We must keep well clear of that region,” Tesla replied.

Tesla’s plan was that, before the rupture, the vast majority of Venusian humanity would have their genes extracted and consciousness uploaded. These specimens would be carefully preserved and, together with the research and engineering personnel, would travel aboard a ship to a satellite of Saturn, evading the impact.

Tesla’s chosen satellite was Saturn VIII, which orbits Saturn in a period of 79 days, with a semi-major axis of 3.56 million kilometers, safely distant from Saturn’s immense ice ring, nearly a million kilometers in diameter.

When the ship landed on Saturn VIII, the timing of Mars’s rupture would coincide with Saturn and its ice ring shielding the moon, protecting it from the blast. Tesla likened Saturn VIII to a safehouse.

The plan, in theory, now seemed viable. Abbott, with a touch of sadness, asked, “To protect Earth, we have placed Venus at the focal point of both the blast from Mars and the solar wind. What will become of her?”

As a Venusian himself, Tesla understood Abbott’s attachment and reluctance to part with their mother planet. He did not immediately voice the tragic answer, instead describing the fate of Mars first.

After its rupture, only Mars’s thin outer shell would be shed; the remaining core would persist as a planet, still bearing the name Mars. Its rotation and revolution would not change significantly. The external brain predicted Mars’s eccentricity would rise from about 0.01, similar to Earth’s, to 0.09, making its orbit more elliptical.

Abbott gazed into Tesla’s eyes, as if to ask: And Venus?

Tesla spread his hands helplessly and whispered, “Our Venus will have her axis of rotation reversed, coming to a complete halt, and then begin to rotate in the opposite direction.”

According to Tesla, after Mars’s rupture, Venus’s rotational period would stretch to over 240 days—meaning a single rotation would take longer than a full revolution around the Sun.

&

Poetry of Seals and Quotations:

The jade ladle comes crashing, and all is changed. (Song, Su Yong)
In an instant, the world’s fortunes are sealed. (Ming, Huang Jin)
Don’t ask before the journey’s end. (Song, Yang Wanli)
Grasp the stars and summon the heavens. (Ming, Shi Runzhang)