The four-hour drive back to Kiso was an opportunity for Ichirō to finally get some much-needed rest. Watching C/1998 M7 for two weeks day and night and anxiously calculating its possible trajectory time after time was exhausting. He was in no mood for discussing the meeting at all. He only wanted to close his eyes for a few hours and clear his head.

Inoue, sitting next to him, was no less weary, but sleep just evaded him. The horrible thought that this thing – whatever it was – would fall on Earth, possibly wiping entire cities off the map, haunted him. His mind constantly conjured pictures of apocalyptic devastation. Where would it fall? His beloved home city, Yokohama? Then he remembered cities he’d visited in his travels, academic or not – Edinburgh, Rome, Paris, Athens, Seoul, Barcelona… Even if it fell into an ocean, the resulting tsunami could wreak havoc upon seaside communities.

June 30, 1998. The ninetieth anniversary of the Tunguska event.¹ At the University of Tokyo Kiso Observatory, Ichirō Maeda, a young graduate student of astronomy, spotted a new diffuse source and turned his attention to it. “Hmmm… Could this be a new comet?” he thought, and immediately told his professor, Akira Inoue.

“Inoue-sensei,² I think I’ve spotted a new comet. Could you please have a look at it?”
Inoue walked over to his student’s side and had a look at the screen. “Yes, it does look like a comet,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Notify CBAT,³ Maeda-kun.⁴”
“Right away!”
“Meanwhile, keep tracking it.” Ichirō gave him a nod of affirmation.
Inoue kept his gaze fixed on the screen, smiling at the thought of this new discovery. He and his student would get an IAU⁵ Circular and a comet named after them. Ichirō interrupted his thoughts to inform him that the CBAT had acknowledged their telegram.
“Well done, Maeda-kun.”