The Year When Stardust Fell Part 5

"I wouldn't have time to run any such tests for several days. If you are intent on pursuing this thing, however, I'll tell you what I'll do. You and your science club friends can come up and use the equipment yourselves."

"We don't know how!"

"I'll arrange for one of the teaching fellows to show you how to prepare metallic samples and operate the electron microscope."

Ken's eyes lighted. "Gee, that would be great if you would do that, Dad!

Will you, really?"

"Come around after school today. I'll see that someone is there to help you."

Art Matthews was disappointed when Ken called and said none of the science club members would be around that afternoon. He couldn't keep from showing in his voice that he felt they were letting him down.

"It's not any use trying to get those engines running," Ken said. "The pistons would never come out of most of them without being drilled out.

We're not equipped for that. Even if we got things loosened up and running again, what would keep the same thing from happening again?

That's what we've got to find out."

Art was unable to accept this point of view. He held a bewildered but insistent belief that something ought to be done about the mounting pile of disabled cars outside his garage. "We can get some of them going, Ken. You fellows have got to lend a hand. I can't tackle it without help."

"I'm sorry," Ken said. "We're convinced there's got to be another way to get at the problem."

"All right. You guys do whatever you figure you've got to do. I can probably round up some other help."

Ken hung up, wishing he had been able to make Art understand, but the mechanic would probably be the last person in Mayfield to accept that the comet could have any possible connection with the frozen engines.

As Ken walked to school that morning he estimated that at least 25 percent of the cars in Mayfield must be out of commission. Some of the men in his neighborhood were in their driveways futilely punching their starters while their engines moaned protestingly or refused to turn over at all. Others were peering under the hoods, shaking their heads, and calling across the yards to their neighbors.

In the street, some cars were lugging with great difficulty, but others moved swiftly along without any evidence of trouble. Ken wondered how there could be such a difference, and if some might prove immune, so to speak, to the effect.

He had called a meeting of the club in the chemistry laboratory for an hour before the first cla.s.s. All of the members were there when he arrived.

Ken called the meeting to order at once. "I guess you've all heard the news broadcasts, and you know what's happening here in town," he said.

"Yesterday you talked about the possibility of collecting samples and a.n.a.lyzing the material of the comet's tail. I don't know what you decided. You can fill me in later on that. The problem is a lot more important now than it was yesterday.

"It's beginning to seem as if the presence of the comet may actually be responsible for the wave of mechanical failures. Finding out how and why is just about the biggest problem in the whole world right now."

A babble of exclamations and protests arose immediately from the other members of the group. Al Miner and Dave Whitaker were on their feet. Ted Watkins waved a hand and shouted, "Don't tell us you're swallowing that superst.i.tious junk!"

Ken held up a hand. "One at a time. We haven't got all day, and there's a lot of ground to cover. Ted, what's your comment?"

"My comment is that anybody's got a screw loose if he believes the comet's got anything to do with all those cars being in Art's garage.

That stuff went out of fashion after the days of old Salem."

Several of the others nodded vigorously as Ted spoke.

"I guess we do need to bring some of you up to date on the background material," said Ken. "Joe, tell them what we found last night."

Briefly, Joe Walton described the engines they had dismantled.

"Something had happened to them," he said, "which had never happened to an engine since Ford drove his first horseless carriage down Main Street."

"It doesn't mean anything!" exclaimed Ted. "No matter what it is, we haven't any basis for tying it to the comet."

"Can you name any other universal factor that could account for it?" Ken asked. "We have an effect that appears suddenly in Mayfield, Chicago, Paris, and Cairo. Some people say it's the additives in gasoline, but you don't get them showing up simultaneously in all parts of the world.

There is no other factor common to every locality where the mechanical failures have occurred, except the comet.

"So I called this meeting to suggest that we expand our project beyond anything we previously had in mind. I suggest we try to determine the exact relationship between the breakdowns and the appearance of the comet."

Big Dave Whitaker, sitting at the edge of the room, rose slowly in his seat. "You've got the cart before the horse," he said. "You've got a nice theory all set up and you want us to beat our brains out trying to prove it. Now, take me. I've got a theory that little green men from Mars have landed and are being sucked into the air intake of the engines. Prove my theory first, why don't you?"

Ken grinned good-naturedly. "I stand corrected, but I won't back down very far. I won't suggest we try to prove the connection with the comet, but I do propose to set up some experiments to discover if there is any relationship. If there is, then what it is. Does that suit you?"

"I'll go along with that. How do you propose to go about it?"

"Let's find out where the rest stand," said Ken. "How about it, you guys?"

"I'll go for it," said Ted, "as long as we aren't out to prove a medieval superst.i.tion."

One by one, the others nodded agreement. Joe Walton said intensely, "We'll find out whether it's superst.i.tion or not! There's no other possible cause, and we'll prove it before we're through."

Ken smiled and waved him down. "We're working on a hypothesis only.

Anyway, here's what I have to suggest by way of procedure: Since the tail of the comet is so rarefied, there aren't many molecules of it in the atmosphere of this entire valley. I don't know just what the mathematical chances of getting a measurable sample are. Maybe you can work out some figures on it, Dave. We'll have to handle an enormous volume of air, so let's get a blower as large as we can get our hands on and funnel the air through some electrically charged filters. We can wash down these filters with a solvent of some kind periodically and distill whatever has collected on them."

"You won't get enough to fill the left eye of a virus suffering from arrested development," said Ted.

"We'll find out when we get set up," said Ken. "My father has agreed to give us access to the electron microscope at the college. Maybe we can use their new ma.s.s spectrograph to help a.n.a.lyze whatever we collect."

"If we knew how to use a ma.s.s spectrograph," said Ted.

"He's offered to let one of the teaching fellows help us."

"What will all this prove, even if we do find something?" Dave asked.

"You'll get all kinds of lines from a spectrogram of atmospheric dust.

So what?"

"If we should get some lines that we can't identify, and if we should get those same lines from metallic specimens taken from the disabled engines, we would have evidence of the presence of a new factor. Then we could proceed with a determination of what effect, if any, this factor has on the engines."

Ken looked around the group once more. "Any comments, suggestions, arguments? There being none, we'll consider the project approved, and get to work this afternoon."

As they left to go to their first cla.s.ses, Ted shook his head gloomily.

"Man, you don't know what you're biting off! All we've done so far is build a few ham radios, a telescope, and some Geiger counters. You're talking about precision work now, and I mean _pree_-cision!"

Throughout the day Ken, too, felt increasing doubts about their ability to carry off the project. It would be a task of tremendous delicacy to a.n.a.lyze such microscopic samples as they might succeed in obtaining.

Microchemical methods would be necessary, and none of them had had any experience in that field. His father was an expert with these methods and though he might scold them for tackling such a difficult project, he'd help them, Ken thought. He always had.

This was no ordinary project, however. Ken had no idea how seriously scientists in general were considering the comet as the offender, but certainly they must be working frantically on the problem of the mechanical disorder. Unless they found another cause very soon, they were certain to turn to an a.n.a.lysis of the comet's tail. It would be very satisfying if Ken's group could actually be in the vanguard of such a development.

He tried to ridicule his own conviction that the comet held the key. He had no reason whatever for such a belief, except the fact of the comet's universal presence. How it could stop an automobile engine or a railroad train was beyond his wildest imaginings.

But there was nothing else. Nothing at all.