When the glass shattered, everything stood still. Dad’s greenhouse!
“Joel!” Dad sounded anxious.
Joel knew soon the tone would change to anger. “It was just a pebble, Dad. A small one.”
But Dad didn’t get angry. He put his hand to his mouth and gazed at the heavens.
“Just a small one,” he said. “A one gram microsatellite. Accelerated to a quarter the speed of light.”
He whipped out his calculator, punching the keys in panic.
“Jesus Christ! There’s no way of slowing it down. Impact of a small nuclear explosion on collision. How will the aliens understand? What have we done?”