The Year When Stardust Fell Part 2

"The circulation must be clogged," said Ken. "Either that or the timing has slipped off. That's all it could be."

"Those were my ideas, too. Both wrong in my case. Let me know if you get any other bright ones." He moved off with a pleasant wave of his hand.

"It will cool," said Ken to Maria. "By the time you're ready to leave I'll be able to drive you home."

"I wouldn't want you to damage your car. I can walk."

"We'll see."

He led her around the house. In the center of the backyard loomed the high, round dome of his amateur observatory. It was Ken's personal pride, as well as that of the members of the Mayfield High Science Club, who had helped build the sh.e.l.l and the mountings. The club used it every Thursday night when the seeing was good.

Ken had ground the precision mirror alone. He had ground his first one, a 4-inch gla.s.s, when he was a Boy Scout. Three years later he had tackled the tremendous job of producing a 12-inch one. Professor Douglas of the physics department at the college had p.r.o.nounced it perfect.

Ken opened the door and switched on the light inside the dome. "Don't mind the mess," he said. "I've been taking photographs of the comet for the last month."

To Maria, who was used to the clutter of a laboratory, there was no mess. She admired the beauty of the instrument Ken and his friends had built. "Our university telescope isn't any better," she said.

"You can't tell by the plumbing," Ken laughed. "Better take a look at the image before you pa.s.s judgment."

Skilfully, he swung the long tube around to the direction of the comet.

With the fine controls he centered the cross hairs of the eyepiece on the blazing object in the sky.

"It's moving too fast to stay in range very long," he said.

Maria stepped to the observer's position. She gasped suddenly at the image of the fiery monster hovering in the sky. Viewing the comet along the axis of the tail, as the Earth lay at the edge of it, an observer's vision was like that of a miniature, flaming sun with an offcenter halo of pulsing, golden light.

To Maria, the comet seemed like something living. Slow, almost imperceptible ripples in the glowing scarves of light made them sway as if before some mighty, cosmic wind in s.p.a.ce.

"It's beautiful," Maria murmured, "but it's terrible, too. No wonder the ancients believed comets brought evil and death upon the Earth. I could almost believe it, myself!"

Chapter 2. _Breakdown_

Ken Maddox could not remember a time when he had not wanted to become a scientist. Maybe it started when his father first invited him to look through a microscope. That was when he was a very small boy, but he could still remember the revelation of that experience. He remembered how it had seemed, on looking away from the lens, that the whole world of normal vision was only a fragment of that which was hidden behind curtains and shrouds and locked doors. Only men, like his father, with special instruments and wisdom and knowledge, could ever hope to understand the world of the unknown, which the ordinary person did not even suspect.

Now, at sixteen, Ken was tall, with black hair that had an annoying curl to it. He was husky enough to be the main a.s.set of the football squad of Mayfield High School in his senior year. He knew exactly where he was going and what he was going to do. He would be one of those men who lived beyond the mere surface of the world, and who would seek to understand its deep and hidden meanings.

Ken thought of this as he watched Maria at the telescope. What a difference between knowing the comet as this instrument showed it, and with the knowledge revealed by modern astronomy, and knowing it as the average person in Mayfield did.

Ken and Maria stayed in the observatory until the comet had almost disappeared below the horizon. Mrs. Maddox brought a snack of sandwiches and punch.

"I always do this when I see the observatory dome open," she said, smiling. "I never know when Ken's going to quit his stargazing and come in for the night."

"We're about through, Mom. I'll drive Maria over to her place and be back in a little while."

"I'm going to loan him the stamps," Maria said.

Mrs. Maddox looked at Ken in mock severity. "You mean you forgot _again_?"

"No--I remembered," Ken said lamely. "After the post office closed, that is. Anyhow, Maria has plenty."

"Well," said Mrs. Maddox, "I know who's going to have to mail my invitations if they're ever to get out in time for the party!"

After he and Maria had finished the snack, Ken started his car again.

The engine had cooled to normal temperature, but he watched the indicator closely as he drove. Nothing seemed right about the action of the car. The engine had turned over sluggishly when he pressed the starter b.u.t.ton, as if the battery were almost dead. Now it lugged heavily, even when going downhill.

"The whole thing's haywire," Ken said irritably. "It acts like the crankcase is full of sand or something."

"Let me walk the rest of the way," said Maria. "You take the car back, and I'll bring the stamps over on my way to school in the morning."

"No, we're almost there. Nothing much more could go wrong than already has."

When they reached Maria's place they found Professor and Mrs. La.r.s.en sitting on the porch.

"We've been watching the comet," Maria said excitedly. "Ken let me look at it through his telescope."

"A remarkable event," said Professor La.r.s.en. "I feel very fortunate to be alive to witness it. My generation hasn't had this kind of privilege before. I was a child when Halley's comet appeared."

"I've been trying to tell Maria what a lucky break this is, but she agrees with Granny Wicks," said Ken.

"Oh, I do not!" Maria snapped.

"Granny Wicks?" Professor La.r.s.en inquired. "Your grandmother?"

"No." Ken tried to cover the professor's lack of familiarity with American idioms. "She's just the town's oldest citizen. Everybody likes her and calls her Granny, but her mind belongs to the Middle Ages."

"You hear that, Papa?" cried Maria. "Her mind belongs to the Middle Ages, and he says I'm like Granny Wicks!"

Maria's mother laughed gently. "I'm sure Ken didn't mean your mind is of the Middle Ages, too, dear."

Ken flushed. "Of course not. What I mean is that Granny Wicks thinks the comet is something mysterious and full of omens, and Maria says she sort of thinks the same about it."

"I didn't say anything about omens and signs!"

"Well, except for that...."

"Except for that, I suppose we are all in agreement," said Professor La.r.s.en slowly. He drew on his pipe and it glowed brightly in the darkness. "The whole universe is a terrible place that barely tolerates living organisms. Almost without exception it is filled with great suns that are flaming, atomic furnaces, or dead cinders of planets to which a sc.r.a.p of poisonous atmosphere may cling. Yes, it is indeed a great miracle that here in this corner of the universe conditions exist where living things have found a foothold. We may be glad that this is so, but it does not pay man to ever forget the fierceness of the home in which he lives. Earth is merely one room of that home, on the pleasant, sunny side of the house. But the whole universe is his home."

"That's the thing I've been trying to say," Ken answered. "We can know this without being afraid."

Maria's father nodded. "Yes. Fear is of no use to anyone. Awe, respect, admiration, wonder, humility--these are all necessary. But not fear."

Maria turned from the group. "I'll bring the stamps, Ken," she said.

"Won't you come in and have some cake?" Mrs. La.r.s.en asked.