The Orion Plan by Mark Alpert

Force uniform. General Hanson was marking the map with a pencil and giving orders to the other men.
    The sergeant stopped a couple of yards from the table and let go of Sarah’s arm. For a second she considered bolting out of the restaurant, but she knew she wouldn’t get far. Instead, she peered at Hanson’s map, which showed Upper Manhattan and the Hudson River and a skinny ellipse marked in red pencil. The elliptical shape meant it was an impact zone. Hanson was organizing the hunt for the asteroid fragments, assigning a search area to each of his officers.
    After Hanson finished giving orders, the other officers saluted him and left the dining room. The general studied the map for several more seconds. Then he lifted his head and grinned at Sarah. “Thanks for joining us, Dr. Pooley. Did you have a nice flight?”
    She frowned. The guy’s arrogance was unbelievable. “How did you know I was here?”
    â€œMy contacts at NASA said you’d called in sick. Then I made a guess and checked the passenger lists on the flights out of Los Angeles.”
    â€œYou can do that? Poke around in civilian records?”
    â€œUnder ordinary circumstances, no. But as you can see from our deployment here, the present circumstances are far from ordinary.” No longer grinning, he turned to Sergeant Nunn. “Could you give us a moment, Sergeant? Please wait by the door.”
    Nunn saluted and marched off. Then Hanson turned back to Sarah. “This is a matter of national security, Dr. Pooley, so please forgive the invasion of your privacy. I wouldn’t have taken these steps unless they were absolutely necessary.”
    She certainly wasn’t going to forgive him, but her curiosity was stronger than her distaste for the man. “I don’t understand. How did this meteor become a national security crisis? Did it hit something important?”
    The general shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But before I can share any information, I need some assurances from you.”
    â€œAssurances?”
    â€œSometimes the Air Force will request the assistance of a civilian adviser from outside the Defense Department, usually because the civilian has some expertise we can’t get from our own staff. That’s the kind of arrangement I want to make with you, Dr. Pooley. I need your help.”
    â€œHelp with what?”
    â€œThe problem is, I can’t tell you until we come to an agreement.” He picked up a briefcase from the floor. It was black and decorated with the Air Force seal. “The information I’d like to share with you is highly classified. You’ve already passed our background checks, but you need to sign a contract promising your cooperation and confidentiality.” He laid the briefcase on the table, snapped it open, and pulled out a stapled sheaf of papers. “We’ll provide you with appropriate compensation, of course. The assignment will be temporary, and when it’s over you can return to your duties at NASA.”
    He handed her the contract. Dumbfounded, Sarah leafed through it. The gist was plain: the Air Force would pay her a thousand dollars a day for her services, and in return she had to promise to keep everything secret. If she broke her promise, she’d spend the next ten to twenty years in federal prison.
    She stepped toward Hanson, holding the contract at arm’s length. “You can take it back. I’m a scientist, remember? I want to publish my results, not hide them.”
    The general didn’t take the papers from her. “You’ll still be able to publish your findings. You’ll just have to let us vet your research articles before publication to make sure they don’t include any classified information.”
    â€œVet my articles? You mean censor them, right?”
    â€œNo, that—”
    â€œLook, it won’t work. We have different priorities.” She thrust the contract at