MINDSLIP

1 Tomorrow

Note for non-British readers – Tony writes using UK English spelling, punctuation, and grammar.

A blinding flash lit the sky.

'Geoffrey, what on earth's that?' cried Caroline as she shielded the children's eyes.

I covered my own and hastily threw a blanket from the washing-line over the family as I hurried them to the back of the house where the shade provided some protection. What could it be? A nuclear strike in the atmosphere? If so, our lives would be over in seconds. We were motionless, crouching between the coal bunker and the kitchen wall, waiting for a blast to crush us or heat wave to incinerate us. The glare penetrated the blanket.

'Daddy, what's happening?' screamed Sandra, our eight-year-old.

'Is it a war?' A deathly whisper from Wilson, two years Sandra's senior and inquisitive as hell.

'Don't know. Follow me! Keep tight to the wall!' I said, and we shuffled towards the kitchen door, keeping out of the brilliant light which washed out the colours of the garden and neighbouring properties.

'Can't be a bomb,' I said.

'You sure?'

'Yes, Cas. If it was, we'd all be dead by now. No physical blast, just the light.'

'I'm afraid, Mummy.' Sandra was in tears as I guided them through the kitchen extension to the body of the house where we'd be protected by more substantial bricks and mortar.

'Supernova comes to mind,' I said.

'But why's it still so bright? It's brighter than the sun. Aren't supernovas just a flash?'

'Can last a long time, but there should be some fading soon. We need to stay indoors for a while. Could be danger from X-rays and gamma rays. Keep the children in the hall or dining room while I make some calls.'

Caroline shepherded the children into the room and gave Sandra a drawing book and Wilson his Nintendo.

'Hello.' My boss, head of the Royal Observatory, answered my call.

'Justin, did you see it?'

'Yes, think it's in Orion.'

'Betelgeuse?'

'Almost certainly.'

'I'm going to call a few astronomers and set up a meeting at the Royal Institution for eleven tomorrow. That okay with you?'

'Yes, Geoff. Go ahead. I'll call Jodrell Bank and see if there's any data yet.'

I hung up and rang colleagues. Within the hour, I had some of the most senior astronomers in the south of England promising to attend the meeting.

'You kids stay in here. Cas, come see.' I tugged on my wife's hand. 'We'll take a look at it.'

'Can I come?' shouted Wilson.

'Not tonight, Wils. You can in the morning.'

'Aaaaw, Daaaad. It could be gone tomorrow.'

'Might be with us for weeks, but it could be dangerous for children right now. Some fade more rapidly than others, but it'll still be bright for some time. Stay with Sands for now.'

'Must I?' he moaned.

'Yes, and keep out of the light.'

'Okaaaay, Daaaad.'

I grabbed the four-inch refractor from the hall cupboard, mounted it on its tripod and Caroline and I headed to the front door, both pulling on wax jackets and hats for ultra-violet protection.