On the twentieth of January the comet reached its closest approach to
Earth. It was then less than three million miles away. In the realm of
the stars, this was virtually a collision, and if the head of the comet
had been composed of anything more than highly rarefied gases it would
have caused tremendous upheavals and tidal waves.
There were none of these. Only the dust.
Ken arose at dawn that day and went into the yard to watch the rising of
the golden enemy a little before the sun came over the eastern hills. He
doubted whether anyone else was aware it was closer today than it had
been before, or ever would be again. He doubted there would be much
scientific interest in the event, anywhere in the world.
In the observatory, he opened the dome and adjusted the telescope to
take a few pictures and spectrograms. He remembered when he had done
this, a long time ago, with high excitement and curiosity, and he
remembered later times when he had looked up with a bitter hate in his
heart for the impersonal object in the sky.
Now, he felt nothing. He was aware only of a kind of deadness in his
emotions with respect to the comet.
There was no excitement he could find in today's event of close
approach, which was probably the only one of its kind that would be
recorded in the history of mankind. He wondered if he had lost all his
scientific spirit that so momentous an occurrence could inspire him so
little now.
Yet, he no longer hated the comet, either. It was not a thing that could
be hated, any more than the wind when it leveled a city, or the waters
when they drowned the land and the people on it.
These things were beyond hate. You could fight them, but you never had
the privilege of hating them. That was reserved only for other human
beings. It was because of the great, impersonal nature of their common
enemy, he thought, that people had finally turned to fighting each
other. It was for this reason that the people of Mayfield had turned
their hate upon the scientists. The questions of food and privileges
were only superficial excuses.
After an hour's work, Ken left the observatory. The gassy tail of the
comet was a full halo of lighter yellow hue, as seen directly along its
central axis. The darker yellow of the core seemed to Ken like a living
heart.
The light spread to the dust motes in the air and curtained the whole
sky with shimmering haze. It bathed the snow cover of the Earth, and
reflected its golden image against the trees and the walls of the
buildings, and penetrated the windows. It gilded the stark, charcoal
skeletons of the ruins it had created. It spread over the whole Earth
and penetrated every pore. Ken had a momentary illusion that there was
not a particle of substance in the world not permeated and illumined by
the comet's light. He felt as if it were inside his own being, through
his vitals, and shining in the corridors of his brain.
For a moment the old hate returned. He wanted to shut his eyes against
that omnipresent light and to run with all his strength to some secret
place where it could never penetrate.
He recalled the words of Dr. Larsen that seemed to have been uttered so
long ago that they were scarcely within memory: "The universe is a
terrible place that barely tolerates living organisms. It is a great
miracle that here in this corner of the universe living things have
found a foothold. It does not pay ever to forget the fierceness of the
home in which we live."
There was no closing the eyes against this. He looked again at the
comet, the representative to Earthmen of all the fierceness and terror
that lay in outer space, beyond the thin tissue of atmosphere that
protected man and his fragile life. He would remember all the days of
his life that the universe might be beautiful and exciting and terrible,
but whatever it was, it held no friendliness toward man. It could
destroy him with a mere whim of chance occurrence. Man had gained a
foothold, but there was a long way to go to an enduring security.
* * * * *
On the day of the official beginning of operation of the giant projector
in Jenkin's pasture, there was a little ceremony. Sheriff Johnson stood
on an improvised platform and with an impressive gesture threw the
switch that officially turned the power into the great instrument. It
had been successfully tested previously, but now it was launched in an
operation that would not cease until the last trace of comet dust had
fallen from the sky and was mingled with the dust of the Earth.
Most of the townspeople who were well enough to do so turned out for the
ceremony. During the construction, a guard had been kept to prevent
sabotage of the projector, but there had been no attempts made on it.
Now the people stood in the trampled snow and ice of the pasture,
staring up at the giant structure, with a quality of near-friendliness
in their eyes and in the expressions of their faces.
The Sheriff made a little speech after throwing the switch. He thanked
them for their co-operation and thousands of man-hours of labor, not
mentioning that it had been obtained, initially, at the point of his
guns. He praised the scientists and noted that conquest of the comet
might never have been achieved without the genius of their men of
College Hill. He did not mention the attempts to destroy that genius.
"I think we should all like to hear," he said, "from the man who has led
this vast and noble effort from its inception. He will speak for all
those who have worked so steadfastly to bring this effort to a
successful conclusion. Professor Maddox!"
There was a flurry of applause. Then it grew, and a shout went up. They
called his name and cheered as he stood, a figure dwarfed against the
background of the great projector bowl.
Ken knew what he must be thinking as he waited for the cheers to
subside. He must be thinking: they have forgotten already, forgotten the
angers and the jealousies and the fears, their attempts to destroy the
small kernel of scientific hope in their midst. They had forgotten
everything but the warming belief that perhaps the worst of the terror
was over and they had lived through it.
"I'm grateful," Professor Maddox was saying, "for the assistance you
have given this project, although you had no personal knowledge of what
it was meant to do. We asked for your faith and we asked for your
confidence that we knew what we were about, at a time when we did not
know it even for ourselves. We were nourished and cared for at your
expense in order that our work might go on. It would not have succeeded
without you."
Ken realized his father was not speaking ironically but meant just what
he said. And it was true.
The vengeful Meggs and the psychotic Granny Wicks had fought them and
incited others who were frightened beyond reason. Yet there had been
Hilliard and Johnson, the Council, and many others who had supported
them. There were those who had built the projector, even though at the
point of a gun, and at the threat of starvation. All of them together
had made the project possible.
It was a miniature of the rise of the whole human race, Ken supposed.
More like a single individual with a multitude of psychoses, hopes, and
geniuses, than a group of separate entities, they had come to this
point. In the same way, they would go on, trying to destroy the
weaknesses and multiply their strength.
* * * * *
By the middle of February the flu epidemic was over. Its toll had
leveled the population to a reasonable balance with the food supply.
Whether Mayor Hilliard's ironic suggestion reflected any real principle
or not, the situation had worked out in accord with his macabre
prediction.
Ken had explained the comet's daily infinitesimal retreat and there was
a kind of steady excitement in estimating how much it diminished each
day. Actually, a week's decrease was too small for the naked eye to
detect, but this did not matter.
Radio reports continued to tell of increased construction of projectors
throughout the world. Tests were showing they were effective beyond all
previous hopes.
The populace of Mayfield was enthusiastic about the construction of
additional units. Two more had been built, and three others were
planned. Serious attention had to be given now to the coming planting
season. Every square foot of available ground would have to be
cultivated to try to build up stores for all possible emergencies of the
following winter.
When the time came for making the first work assignments on the farms,
Professor Maddox and Professor Larsen appeared to receive theirs.
Sheriff Johnson was in the office at the time. "What are you two doing
here? You can get back to your regular business," he stormed. "We aren't
that hard up for farmers!"
"We have no regular business," said Professor Maddox. "The projector
work is being taken care of. Mayfield will probably not be the site of a
university again during our lifetimes. We want to be assigned some acres
to plow. By the way, did you hear Art Matthews has got three more
tractors in operation this week? If we can find enough gasoline we may
be able to do the whole season's plowing by machine."
"You're sure you want to do this?" said Sheriff Johnson.
"Quite sure. Just put our names down as plain dirt farmers."
* * * * *
Ken clung to the radio for reports of the outside world. The batteries
were all but exhausted, but a motor generator could be allotted to the
station as soon as other work was out of the way.
In Pasadena, they told him a diesel railway engine had been successfully
decontaminated and put into operation. Airtight packing boxes had been
designed for the wheels to keep them from being freshly affected by the
dust remaining in the air. It was planned to operate a train from the
metropolitan area to the great farming sections to the east and north. A
few essential manufactures had also been revived, mostly in the form of
machine shops to decontaminate engine parts.
Negotiations were under way to try to move the great wheat and other
grain stocks of the Midwest down the Mississippi River to New Orleans
and through the Panama Canal to the Pacific Coast cities. Oldtime
sailing vessels, rotting from years of disuse, were being rebuilt for
this purpose.
Ken found it hard to envision the Earth stirring with this much life
after the destruction that had passed over it. In the civilized areas,
it was estimated that fully two-thirds of the population had perished.
Only in the most primitive areas had the comet's effect been lightly
felt. Yet, around the world, the cities were stirring again. Food for
the surviving was being found. The hates and the terrors were being put
away and men were pulling together again to restore their civilization.
Maria came to the radio shack to tell him dinner was ready. He invited
her to join him for a moment. "It may be possible for you and your
father to return to Sweden much sooner that we thought," he said.
Maria shook her head. "We aren't going back, now. We've talked about it
and decided to stay. It's as Papa always said: Where so much happens to
you, that's the place you always call home. More has happened to us in a
year here than in a lifetime back there."
Ken laughed. "That's a funny way to look at it, especially after the
kind of things that have happened to you here. Maybe your father is
right, at that."
"All our friends are here now," she said.
"All I can say is that it's wonderful," Ken said with a rising surge of
happiness in him. "I mean," he added in sudden confusion, "I'm glad
you've decided this is the best place to live."
He changed the subject quickly. "Dad's even talking of trying to start
up a kind of college here again. We wouldn't have the buildings, of
course, but it could be done in houses or somewhere else. He says he's
been thinking a lot about it and considers it would be our greatest
mistake to neglect the continuance of our education. So I guess you can
finish school right here.
"Personally, I think all the professors out there trying to be dirt
farmers just got tired after a couple of days of plowing and decided
something would have to be done about _that_ situation!"
Maria laughed. "Don't be too hard on them. Papa told me about the plan,
too. He says Sheriff Johnson has agreed to guarantee their pay in food
and other necessities. He's stepping down now, so there can be an
election, but he's demanding approval of that program before he leaves
office. I don't think they ought to let him go."
"He'll be re-elected," said Ken. "He's on top of the heap now. I even
heard old Hank Moss chewing out some guys in town for criticizing
Johnson!"
Ken closed down the transmitter and receiver for the night. Together, he
and Maria walked to the house. They stopped on the back porch and
glanced toward the distant projector bowls reflecting the light of the
comet and of the sun.
Soon there would be only the sun to shine in the sky. The Earth was
alive. Man was on his way up again.
About the Author
At various times, Raymond F. Jones has lived in Utah, Nevada, Arizona,
New Mexico and Texas, thereby enabling him to describe the mountain-west
community, which is the scene of his newest science fiction book, with
sureness and insight. He also has a rich scientific background, which
includes training in the fields of radio operating, and electronic
engineering, followed by meteorological work with the United States
Weather Bureau. To this kaleidoscope of places and things, Mr. Jones has
added another facet, that of "a spare-time writer" and has managed to
produce eight books, something over one hundred magazine stories,
articles and novelettes. This is his third Winston book.
The author was born in Salt Lake City where he is presently living, and
attended the University of Utah. He is now working as a researcher with
a historical society which possesses the world's largest collection of
microfilm copies of ancient documents and records. These documents have
been gathered from all parts of Europe and the United States, and Mr.
Jones is enjoying this new environment.
Mr. Jones describes the theme of THE YEAR WHEN STARDUST FELL in this
way: "It is the portrayal of the unending conflict between ignorance and
superstition on one hand, and knowledge and cultural enlightenment on
the other as they come into conflict with each other during an
unprecedented disaster brought on by the forces of nature."
Coinciding with the surge of interest in all of science, this book will
give the reader a real appreciation of the role of the scientist.
Other Winston Science Fiction Books
PLANET OF LIGHT
SON OF THE STARS
Other Published Books
THE TOYMAKER RENAISSANCE
THIS ISLAND EARTH
THE ALIEN
THE SECRET PEOPLE
_The Editors_
Cecile Matschat, editor of the Winston Science Fiction series, is
recognized as one of this country's most skilful writers and editors.
She has sixteen books to her credit, including the highly praised
_Suwannee River_ in the "Rivers of America" series. Nationally known as
a lecturer, an artist of great ability, Cecile Matschat is also an
expert historian. With this varied background, she is perfectly suited
to select top science fiction authors and books to make this a balanced
and well-rounded series.
Carl Carmer, consulting editor, holds an outstanding position in the
literary world. Author of _Stars Fell on Alabama_, he now edits the
popular "Rivers of America" series. Other of his books are _Genesee
Fever_, _For the Rights of Men_, _Listen for a Lonesome Drum_, and
_Windfall Fiddle_.
Other Winston Science Fiction Books
Ant Men, The by Eric North--_Geologists find living fossils in the
badlands of Central Australia_
Attack from Atlantis by Lester del Rey--_An atomic submarine crew
discovers the lost city of Atlantis_
Battle on Mercury by Erik Van Lhin--_Sun storms sweep Mercury and
threaten man's existence_
Danger: Dinosaurs! by Richard Marsten--_A treacherous big-game hunter
leads an expedition back to the Age of Reptiles_
Earthbound by Milton Lesser--_An ex-space cadet is forced to plunder
ships he was trained to protect_
Find the Feathered Serpent by Evan Hunter--_Explorers in Mexico discover
startling Mayan remains_
Five Against Venus by Philip Latham--_A Moon-bound rocket crashes in the
misty wilds of Venus_
Islands in the Sky by Arthur C. Clarke--_A teen-ager's adventures aboard
a space station_
Lost Planet, The by Paul Dallas--_Two worlds on the verge of war_
Marooned on Mars by Lester del Rey--_A teen-ager on the first
Moon-to-Mars expedition_
Missing Men of Saturn by Philip Latham--_A space crew is held prisoner
by froglike men on Saturn_
Mission to the Moon by Lester del Rey--_Scientists make man's first
journey to the Moon_
Mists of Dawn by Chad Oliver--_A space-time machine hurls a 20th-century
boy back to 50,000 B. C._
Mysterious Planet, The by Kenneth Wright--_A young captive on Planet X
prevents Earth's destruction_
Mystery of the Third Mine by Rob. Lowndes--_Prospecting in the dangerous
Asteroid belt_
Planet of Light by Raymond F. Jones--_A trip to another planet shows how
the Universe can be saved from destruction_
Rocket Jockey by Philip St. John--_A space pilot battles Martians in
rocket race_
Rocket to Luna by Richard Marsten--_A stowaway on a Moon-bound rocket
proves his worth_
Rockets to Nowhere by Philip St. John--_Scientists establish a colony on
the Moon_
Secret of Saturn's Rings, The by Donald A. Wollheim--_A scientist proves
his theories by means of a unique invention_
Secret of the Martian Moons, The by Donald A. Wollheim--_Scientists
discover the secrets of Martian civilization_
Son of the Stars by Raymond F. Jones--_An interplanetary friendship
brings Earth to the brink of destruction_
Sons of the Ocean Deeps by Bryce Walton--_Undersea terrors nearly thwart
a project aimed at saving a continent_
Star Seekers, The by Milton Lesser--_A tale of a spaceship doomed to
crash_
Step to the Stars by Lester del Rey--_The U. S. builds a space station_
Trouble on Titan by Alan E. Nourse--_A rocket experimenter discovers a
plot threatening Earth's existence_
Vandals of the Void by Jack Vance--_A tale of space pirates_
Vault of the Ages by Poul Anderson--_Life 500 years after the flaming
collapse of 20th-century civilization_
World at Bay, The by Paul Capon--_Men from another planet attack Earth_
_The year When Stardust Fell_ By RAYMOND F. JONES--A Mysterious
"Fall-Out" Paralyzes Civilization
Mayfield was the typical college town. Nothing too unusual ever happened
there until a mysterious comet was suddenly observed by the scientists
on College Hill.
And then one day the modified engine on Ken Maddox's car began
overheating mysteriously. By morning it didn't run at all.
Art's Garage, local headquarters for hot-rodders, was soon so full of
cars that wouldn't run, that Ken's science club began working in the
garage after school. It didn't take long for the club to discover that
all the moving parts on these stalled cars had fused together. Soon all
machinery had stopped in Mayfield. There was no longer any light or
power anywhere. This mysterious creeping paralysis was spreading.
The copper-yellow glow of the comet seemed to have brought the whole
world to a grinding halt. Airplanes, trains, generators and heavy
machinery were immobilized. Finally man was left with only a few
primitive tools and communication became possible only by means of
amateur radio. In the resulting chaos parts of Mayfield were burned and
looted by hunger-crazed mobs that stole and killed as they advanced.
Here is science fiction at its thrilling best. A startling and
thought-provoking book that shows how human nature might react to
catastrophe.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Year When Stardust Fell, by Raymond F. Jones