“I'm told the mass dampener burned out,” said the voice of Richard Garrison, the Prime Minister from the speaker of the ancient longwave radio.

Almost all communications with London were down as the floodwaters took mobile phone towers and internet hubs out of service. The government was reduced to using long obsolete technology to communicate with the rest of the world. It was crackly with static, but it worked. “They don't know whether it was the amount of energy they were putting through it or the number of times they turned it on and off, but whatever it was, the device couldn’t handle it.”

“But it lasted for eight hours,” Ben Wrexham replied. “That's plenty of time to push the moon back into its original orbit. If we can persuade the Americans to hand back the device we gave them, and if the astronauts on the space station can rig up something that'll take one of the shuttles to the moon...”

“I've already spoken to President Clement about the mass dampener,” the Prime Minister replied. “I told him what you have planned. I've told him that my best people believe it's possible, that the moon's twenty nine day cycle of destruction can be ended. The fact that the United States came off comparatively lightly this time around isn't helping, I’m afraid. Even after seeing what's happening to Europe, it's just too big for them to get their heads around. To them, it's just images on a television screen..." There was a burst of static from the speaker. "Then there's the military," the Prime Minister continued. "The mass dampener is a colossal military asset. They're not going to want to let it out of American hands."

"You could mention my name. Remind him that I am an American. That an American is in charge of the research project that is investigating the alien space ship.”

"I've already done that. I think it's helping. What's helping even more is that there is an American up on Harmony. Susan Kendall. I've suggested that she can be in charge of the device while it's in space. The trouble is that her area of expertise is completely wrong. Something to do with helium crystals, I believe. Could she be coached in the use of the device? I assume she must be quite bright to have gotten a place on the space program.”

“If there's no other way then I suppose we might have to try it, but I would far prefer someone with actual experience in the use of the device. The trouble is that the original, alien mass dampener isn't enough by itself. We need a second device to cancel out the affect of the first so that the rocket thrust can effectively move the moon, and that second device is home made. Something that we’ve made ourselves. If there’s a problem with it, only one of our people would have a chance of fixing it.”

“Yes, I remember you saying in your original proposal. You’d want one of your people to go up into space with it, then?”

“Yes. Preferably Frank Williams. He's the man who reverse engineered the mass dampener and made it possible to create a working, man made version.”

“Has someone got a rocket on the launch pad, then? It's my understanding that it takes weeks, months even, to plan a launch. We were lucky that the Chinese just happened to have a rocket ready to go. It would be incredible good fortune if there was another.”

“Yes, Sir. There are no rockets rated to carry humans ready to launch, but it might be possible to...”

“I'm sorry, I have another call coming in.” Ben waited in growing frustration as nothing but static came from the speaker. He glanced over at Karen, standing nearby, who just shrugged helplessly. Finally, though, the voice of the Prime Minister returned. “I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this discussion at a later date,” he said. “Something's happening.”

“There's not much time, Prime Minister. We have fourteen days before the moon's back at apogee...”

“There's a tsunami heading towards Britain from Denmark,” said the Prime Minister. “I'll have someone get back in touch with you.” There was one final burst of static and then the speaker fell silent.

“A tsunami?” said Karen Kerr, stepping forward. “Hell! As if the east coast hasn’t suffered enough...”

“Yeah. Have you had any luck finding a moon expert?”

“Well, the obvious choice would be Samantha Kumiko. She's almost universally held to be the world’s foremost authority, and she lives right here, in the UK. She works in the University of Bristol.”

“I'm sensing a but.”

“We can't get in touch with her. The phone lines and the internet are working over there, but they're choked up with people calling the emergency services.”

“Perhaps we can get the local police to pay her a visit. Ask her to get in touch.”

“I refer the Honourable Gentleman to my previous statement.”

Ben smiled. “Phone lines choked up. Right. Well then, I suppose one of us’ll have to pay her a visit in person. Perhaps that Stirling son in law of yours.”

“I'm sure he’ll be happy to. I'll go have a word.”

She turned to leave, and Ben pulled his phone from his pocket. He had a great many calls to make if the mission was to go ahead. If he was lucky, maybe one of them would make it through.

☆☆☆

Margaret Lewis was enjoying a mid morning cup of tea when the siren began sounding. The exact same sound that, more than a century earlier, had been used to warn of an air raid. “What's going on, Maxie?” she asked.

“A state of emergency has been declared,” the block's computer replied in its pleasant, nothing to worry about voice. “Please obey any command given to you by the airport authorities.”

Margaret sat up in alarm. “What kind of emergency? Is it the Moon?”

“I'm sorry but I have no more information at the moment. Please obey any command...”

Margaret placed the cup and saucer on the small table beside her armchair and dashed over to the window, almost expecting to see floodwaters sweeping across the fields and between the buildings, even though she knew that that was impossible. They were too high above sea level. What she saw was almost as alarming, though. The airfield was a hive of activity. Military people, some in uniform, others in the dull brown coveralls of mechanics and engineers, were running in all directions as if they were expecting to come under air attack. She actually looked up, almost expecting to see enemy bombers in the sky, but there was nothing except the gigantic moon, now nothing but a thin crescent surrounded by a halo of golden fire close beside the sun.

There was a pounding on the door and she hurried over to find Richard standing out in the corridor. “What's going on?” she asked.

“No idea,” said Richard, looking scared, “but I think we should be ready, just in case. Cath’s packing a few essentials in a couple of bags. I think you should do the same.”

“Are we going to have to leave? We've only just got here!”

“Let's just be ready for anything, just in case.”

“Yes, of course. I wasn't able to bring much, and most of it's still packed...”

At that moment Maxie's voice came from the speakers of her apartment, behind her. “Attention. This is an emergency. Please be ready for emergency evacuation. I repeat, please be ready for emergency evacuation.”

“What's going on, Maxie?” asked Margaret again.

“An emergency situation has been declared. All personnel are being evacuated by aircraft.”

“Why? What's causing the emergency?”

“I’m sorry but I have no further information at the moment.”

Kathy’s head emerged from the door to her apartment. “Richie? Are you hearing this?”

“Yes. Are you packed yet?”

“Just a couple more things.”

“I’ll come help.” He turned back to Margaret. “You going to be okay?”

“I'll be fine. See you downstairs in a couple of minutes.”

“Right.” Richard dashed back to his own apartment and Margaret went back inside to throw a few things into a suitcase.

Ten minutes later, she joined her children and their families in the reception room along with a crowd of other residents, the first time so many of them had been gathered together in one place. “What's going on?” she asked. “Are we supposed to go somewhere?”

Before Richard could answer, someone opened the front door and everyone began streaming out into the cold December air. The Lewis family followed them. Outside, the air was full of the sound of aircraft engines and an Atlas military transport was speeding down the runway. Another Atlas was standing beside the airport buildings and a long line of people were climbing aboard. “I think that’s where we need to be,” someone said, and a number of people set off in that direction at a run. Everyone else stared doubtfully at each other, and then began following after them at a slow, hesitant walk.

The first group of men had been stopped by a pair of armed air force guards, though. “Please wait here,” one of them said. ‘Everyone will be evacuated in plenty of time.”

“What's going on?” Margaret heard the leader of the residents ask as the rest of the crowd caught up with them. It was one of the elderly gentlemen they’d seen earlier that day.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” the guard replied. “Everyone will be evacuated, but essential personnel have to be taken first.”

“I am Charles Marbury. My cousin, Daniel Marbury, is a member of the House of Lords.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yes, Sir. As I said, everyone will be evacuated in time.”

Richard, meanwhile, had been pushing his way to the front of the crowd, Margaret and Cathy behind him carrying Timmy in his carry chair. “My father is Paul Lewis,” he said. “He's up on the space station. My family and I were brought here for his peace of mind, so that he could work without distraction. I’m sure you know how important it is that he’s not distracted by thoughts of our safety.”

“Of course Sir,” said the guard, but with no sign of recognition in his eyes. “As I said, everyone will be evacuated in time.”

“In time for what?”

“I’m afraid I'm not at liberty to say any more, Sir.”

He doesn't know, Margaret realised. They’d just been given orders and were carrying them out. Another of the residents had his phone to his ear, though, and suddenly gave a cry of alarm. “There's a tsunami coming!” he said. “Right this way!”

Everyone cried out in disbelief. “We’re fifty kilometres from the coast!” someone protested.

“Right now, we’re five kilometres from the coast,” someone else pointed out.

“But we don't get tsunamis here! It's a mistake!”

“We don't get twenty metre high tides either, but here we are,” the same person replied. “We gotta get out of here.” He pushed forward, but the guards brandished their guns at him and he fell back, his eyes wide with fear.

“How long have we got?” asked Richard.

“Probably not long,” replied Len. “They move fast. Must have been an earthquake in Norway or Denmark, which means it's close already. Could be here any time.”

“But we're sixty metres above sea level!” cried the woman standing beside him. “Even with the high tide, we're still forty metres above the water! We must be safe here, surely!”

“The authorities seem to think there’s a danger,” said Richard, nodding his head towards where the people were still trying to crowd into the Atlas. Guards were turning the last people away now, and the flight crew were closing the doors. Across the field, air crews were towing the Typhoons out of their hanger and preparing them for departure. Richard didn't think they were going to get them to safety in time.

“So what do we do? Get to higher ground?”

“There is no higher ground. This is the highest spot for fifty kays in any direction.” Richard looked around. “Back into the building. Everyone back inside and get up to the top floor.”

The crowd turned and ran back to the apartment block, while the two guards remained where they were. “You should come with us,” Richard told them. “You can't stay there, out in the open.”

“We have our orders, Sir.”

“Come with us, you idiots! Quickly!” The two guards glanced at each other, then ran after the residents, towards the apartment block.

There was an unseemly crush as they all tried to get in through the double doors of the entrance at once, but a man with a silvery moustache took charge and made some of them hold back while others went first. The Lewis family, near the back, waited with growing anxiety as the residents seemed to take forever to squeeze in. Margaret looked to the east and saw crowds of birds leaping into the air, so many that they seemed to turn the sky black. Behind them, the Atlas was taxiing along the runway with unusual haste, as if desperate to get into the air, and air force personnel were urging the people still out in the open to go back inside the buildings. The sound of four Typhoon engines added to the din. Outside the perimeter fence, he saw dozens of cars tearing along the road. He wondered where they thought they were going. The ground went downhill in every direction except south, and no roads went that way.

They felt a vibration under their feet, as if they were standing on railway tracks with a train approaching fast. The crowd surged forward in a new crush, but they were mostly all inside now. “Use the stairs!” Margaret heard someone say. “Not the elevators!”

In the foyer, people were crowded shoulder to shoulder and Len tried to protect Helen from being crushed. There was a stampeding sound of people rushing up the stairs, and another sound as well. A rushing, roaring sound. The sound of a lot of water approaching fast. Forty metres above sea level! thought Richard in astonishment. That's one hell of a tsunami! Maybe the biggest ever recorded!

The men at the back tried to close the doors against the crush of people, but then there was water washing around their feet. Salty water, smelling of fish and seaweed. It forced the doors open and washed against their legs. Maybe that’s all there’ll be, thought Margaret hopefully. Just a few inches to get our feet wet...

Then the building shook as something hit it, hard, and everyone was thrown from their feet. She could have sworn the building actually moved several metres backwards, as if it had been jarred loose from its foundations. She fell onto the floor and a teenage girl fell on top of her, both of them gasping as the air was driven from their lungs. Every window exploded inwards and foamy, salty water gushed in. She and everyone around her was washed to the far wall and crushed there while the water rose. Chest high, then over their heads. Crashes and bangs came from all around. Someone trod on her hand and she opened her mouth to cry out in pain, only for water to gush in. She pulled her hand free and struggled to rise, a task made harder by the dozen or so human bodies crushed against hers all trying to do the same thing. Everything was a chaos of water, thrashing limbs and the roaring of water in her ears. She tried to open her eyes, but the water stung them and she squeezed them closed again.

Someone was using her to push themselves upright, forcing her down in the process. She reached out to whoever it was and her hands closed around smooth, young arms. She pushed them away and struggled to get her legs under her. The other person closed their hands around her arms and together they helped each other to their feet.

Her head broke out of the water and she gasped gratefully for breath. In front of her, her hair plastered across her face, was the young woman who'd fallen on her. Margaret let go of her and looked around for her family.

The water was still chest height, but dropping rapidly as it flowed away through the still open doors. She was freezing! The water was icy cold! Everyone around her was shouting, screaming or crying. People were still trying to fight their way up the stairs, but she was no longer sure that was a good idea. The building might have been badly damaged. It might no longer be safe. She began shivering as the cold seeped deeper into her, though, and she realised she had no choice. She had to get dry if she was going to live.

She heard her name being called and looked around to see Richard forcing his way towards her through the packed mass of human beings. “Mum! You okay?”

“I think so,” she replied as he took her arms in his hands. “Where's Cath and Timmy?”

”Safe. Len’s taking them upstairs. Come on, Let’s get you out of here.”

“I think the building moved.”

“I think so too, but it still seems fairly sound. Got no choice, anyway. There's nothing for us outside.” He guided her towards the stairs as the water continued to drop. Waist high, then knee high. She saw people all around with blood pouring from open wounds, but there were no dead or unconscious, unless they were still under the water. She didn't let herself think about that.

Everyone was trying to climb the stairs and they joined the flow of people trudging tiredly upwards. The sound of aircraft engines had stopped, she realised, and as they passed a small window she looked out to see what had happened. The four typhoons were crumpled wrecks, and so were two helicopters that she hadn't noticed before. The Atlas was nowhere in sight. Hopefully that meant it had gotten away. Water was flowing across the grass and the tarmac in wide streams leaving behind large pools that the wind blew waves across. There was an amazing variety of debris left everywhere from overturned cars to trees, fence panels, bricks and roof tiles. There was also what looked like a human body in the distance, although it might have just been a scarecrow from a farmer’s field. She hoped it was.

“You okay?” Richard asked her again as they climbed. He was shivering with cold, she saw, which reminder her that she was cold as well. Why couldn’t this have happened in summer?

“Fine,” she said. “How are the others?”

“Okay, I think. You're the one I was worried about. You went right under! I thought we'd lost you.”

“You don't get rid of me that easily...” The building suddenly lurched under them. Settled, as if something low down had given way. “I'm not sure you’re right about the building being sound.”

“No. As soon as we're dry we're getting out of here.”

They were passing the first floor and going up the stairs to the second. The walls were dry here, which she found encouraging, but then she saw a large crack in the brickwork through which a cold wind was blowing. The crack widened as they passed it, then narrowed again with a groaning sound that chilled her to the soul. Please don't collapse! she begged the building. Please don't kill my family!

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they reached their rooms. Richard took them into Len and Hazel's room, where her daughter and son in law had already undressed and were towelling themselves dry, their teeth chattering. Beside them, Helen was taking off her bra. No-one spared a thought for modesty. “Get undressed and get yourself dry,” Richard told her. “I'll go get your clothes.”

“What about you?”

“You first. I'm fine for now.” He then disappeared back out into the corridor, heading for her rooms.

Margaret got undressed quickly and Helen handed her a towel. It was already damp but better than nothing. As she dried herself the best she could Len tried talking to Maxie. The building's computer didn’t respond, though. He hadn't really expected it to. Instead, he went back to where he'd left his wet clothes and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was wet, but the screen lit up when he turned it on. There was no signal, though. Every cell phone tower within range must have been taken down by the tsunami. He tried the FM radio instead, therefore, and found a BBC news channel. He turned the volume up to maximum and put it down on the table.

“Len, dear, please put some clothes on,” said Helen with an apologetic smile at the other women. “I know you’re proud of your physique...”

She handed him pair of boxer shorts and he pulled them on without a word while listening carefully to the phone. “The idiot’s talking about Japan,” he said. “They're in pretty bad shape, apparently.” He shouted down at the screen. “So are we, idiots!”

“If it did this to us, there can't be anything left to the east of us,” said Cathy as she pulled on some dry clothes. Her skin was still sticky with damp but she was cold! She looked better immediately as she pulled a thick, woolly jumper over her head. Margaret wrapped the towel around her shoulders as she waited for Richard to get back. ‘”The whole east coast must be just gone!” continued Cathy, wide eyed with shock. “Everything for fifty miles inland!”

“I wonder how many dead,” said Len, still staring at the phone as he got dressed. “Believe it or not, we got off lucky. By the time the wave got to us, there wasn’t much left of it. For the people lower down, though, it must have been as if the whole North Sea fell down on them! The death toll must be...”

“I don’t want to think about it!” said Helen, dressing hurriedly. Richard arrived at that moment with a bundle of clothes in his arms. The others averted their eyes as Margaret dropped the towel and started getting dressed.

“I wonder if Dad knows about this,” said Richard as he began stripping off his wet clothes. “If he's watching the news right now, he must be worried sick.”

“There’s nothing on the news about it yet,” said Len, though. “This idiots still talking about Japan... Ah, wait.”

The voice coming from the phone had changed and they all crowded around to listen to the man's grave, serious tones. “This news just coming in. We can now confirm an earlier report that a massive tsunami has struck the east coast of England...” They listened with horror as he read out a long list of places that had been hit, from Aberdeen all the way south to Norwich. The wave was now making its way along the English Channel, he said, with a portion of its force going up the Thames to inflict further misery on an already flooded London. The West coast of Europe was also being hit, particularly Belgium and northern France, and they were expected to be hit again as the wave bounced off England to go back across the North Sea. Unusually, there were no reports coming in from the afflicted areas. Margaret supposed that the local reporters themselves, those that were still alive, were still picking themselves out from the wreckage. Soon, though, there would be helicopters flying overhead, sending back images of whole cities wiped out as if by a nuclear blast.

The building shuddered again under their feet and Richard finished drying himself in a hurry. He pulled on a fresh set of clothes in record time and then looked around at the others. “Everyone ready?” he said. They nodded back at him as they dressed in warm coats and hats. “Right, let’s get out of here before this whole building collapses.”

They hurried back to the stairs, where they were joined by other families who had also changed into dry clothes. Margaret saw bruises and small cuts on their faces and was reminded of her hand, that someone had trodden on. She looked at it and saw nothing more than some scuffed skin.

The other residents were gathering outside, in front of the building, and the Lewis family joined them there. Margaret saw a man in RAF uniform hurrying over from the airport buildings and recognised Captain McMillan. “Everyone alright here?” he asked, looking them over.

“We haven’t done a head count,” someone replied. “We don't know if anyone's missing.”

“We'll look into it,” the officer replied. “Anyone seriously hurt?” There was some shaking of heads. “Good,” he replied. “We're gathering everyone in Hanger Two. Hanger One took most of the force of the tsunami and shielded the other hanger, so it's still in pretty good shape. We're heating up some soup.”

“Sounds like just what the doctor ordered,” the man replied, and the crowd followed the officer across the waterlogged field towards the airport buildings.