Matt Young, NASA administrator--youthful, lean, handsome, and athletic--wrestles with a bit of bad news. From the looks of...

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FIREBALL

Matt Young, NASA administrator--youthful, lean, handsome, and athletic--wrestles with a bit of bad news. From the looks of it, a giant planetoid will collide with earth next Wednesday. ""We just might be in for one hell of a big bang,"" observes an assistant. One way to handle it is to cancel a joint Soviet-American Mars expedition, load the emptied expedition rocket with a super-duper bomb that the Americans have been developing on the sly (in violation of disarmament accords), and pulverize the space junk before it knocks our old ball right off its axis. Can it be done? A piece of cake. But how will our new weapon wash with the Russians? ""Heaven help the future of dÉtente."" Also--will Young's role in the necessary shenanigans write finis to his career? The administrator is in need of a drink. ""Bud, let's go over to the VIP lounge,"" he suggests. ""This tension is driving me nuts."" Everything comes out slightly nuts in this daffy little tale, where even the president is a cool hand and regular guy. ""I'm in need of a stiff bourbon,"" he tells Young. ""Me too, sir,"" answers the administrator. And, best of all, Manhattan gets it square on the beezer with a big chunk of planetoid--which should bring a few roars of approval and a few extra readers for this sobanal-it's-beautiful poppycock.

Pub Date: Aug. 31, 1977

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: Methuen (572 Fifth Ave., New York, N.Y. 10036)

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1977