Chapter 1: The Comet

The comet was the only thing in the whole sky. All the stars were smothered by the light of its copper-yellow flame, and, although the sun had set two hours ago, the Earth was lit as with the glow of a thunderous dawn.

In Mayfield, Ken Maddox walked slowly along Main Street, avoiding collisions with other people whose eyes were fixed on the object in the sky. Ken had spent scores of hours observing the comet carefully, both by naked eye and with his 12-inch reflecting telescope. Still he could not keep from watching it as he picked his way along the street toward the post office.

The comet had been approaching Earth for months, growing steadily to bigger proportions in the sky, but tonight was a very special night, and Mayfield was watching with increased awe and half-dread--as were hundreds of thousands of other communities around the world.

Tonight, the Earth entered the comet’s tail, and during the coming winter would be swept continuously by its million-mile spread.

There was no visible change. The astronomers had cautioned that none was to be expected. The Earth had passed through the tails of comets before, although briefly, and none of the inhabitants had been physically aware of the event.

This time there was a difference. As intangible as a mere suspicion, it could yet be felt, and there was the expectancy of the unknown in the air.

Ken prided himself on a scientific attitude, but it was hard not to share the feelings of those around him that something momentous and mysterious was taking place this night. There would be no quick passage this time. Earth would lie within the tail for a period of over four months as they both made their way about the sun.

Such close-lying orbits had never occurred before in the known history of the world.

“It’s frightening, isn’t it?”

Ken was aware that he had stopped at the edge of a crowd in front of Billings Drugstore, and beside him Maria Larsen was staring intently upward as she spoke.

She was a small, blonde girl with intense blue eyes. Ken smiled confidently and looked down at her. “No,” he said. “It’s a beautiful thing. It’s a kind of miracle that we should be alive when it happened. No human beings have ever seen such a sight before.”

Maria shivered faintly. “I wish I could feel that way. Do you think it will get any bigger?”

“Yes. It will not reach its closest approach for over three months, yet. Its approach is very slow so we won’t notice much change.”

“It is beautiful,” Maria agreed slowly, “but, still, it’s frightening. I’ll be glad when it’s gone.”

Ken laughed and tucked the girl’s arm in his. There was something so disturbingly serious about the Swedish girl, who was spending a year in Mayfield with her parents. Her father, Dr. Larsen, was a visiting professor of chemistry, engaged to teach this season at the State Agricultural College in Mayfield. Ken’s own father was head of the chemistry department there.

“Come down to the post office with me to get some stamps,” Ken said. “Then I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s closed. You can’t get any stamps tonight.”

“Maybe the boys in gray haven’t been too busy watching the comet to stock the stamp machine. Look out!” He pulled her back quickly as she stepped from the curb. A wheezy car moved past, its driver completely intent on his observation of the comet.

“Old Dad Martin’s been trying to wrap that thing around a pole for 25 years,” Ken said unhappily. “It looks like he’s going to make it tonight!”

Along the street, bystanders whistled at the aged driver, and pedestrians yelled at one another to get out of the way. The car’s progress broke, for a moment, the sense of ominous concern that spread over Main Street.

At the post office, Ken found Maria’s prediction was right. The stamp machine was empty.

“I have some at home,” the girl said. “You’re welcome to them.”

“I need a lot. Mother’s sending out some invitations.”

“I’m sure I have enough. Papa says I’m supporting the postal department with all the letters I write to everyone at home in Sweden.”

“All right, I’ll take you up on it. I’ll get skinned if I don’t get them. I was supposed to pick them up this afternoon and I forgot all about it.”

“I thought I learned good English in the schools in Sweden,” said Maria wistfully, “but I don’t seem to understand half what you say. This ‘skinned’--what does that mean?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Ken laughed. “If you would teach me English the way you learned it, Miss Rymer would give me a lot better marks in her class.”

“Now I think you’re making fun of me,” said Maria.

“Not me. Believe me, I’m not! Hey, look what’s coming down the street! That’s old Granny Wicks. I thought she had died a long time ago.”

In front of the post office, an ancient white horse drew a light, ramshackle wagon to a halt. From the seat, a small, wizened, old woman looked at the crowd on the street. She dropped the reins in front of her. Her eyes, set deeply in her wrinkled face, were bright and sharp as a bird’s, and moved with the same snapping motions.

From both sides of the street the bystanders watched her. Granny Wicks was known to everyone in Mayfield. She was said to have been the first white child born in the valley, almost a hundred years ago. At one time, her horse and wagon were familiar, everyday sights on the streets, but she seldom came to town any more.

Many people, like Ken, had had the vague impression that she was dead.

She appeared lively enough now as she scrambled down from the wagon seat and moved across the sidewalk to the post office steps. She climbed these and stood in front of the doors. Curiously, the crowd watched her.

“Listen to me, you!” she exclaimed suddenly. Her voice was high and shrill, reminding Ken of an angry bird’s. Maria looked at him wonderingly, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t ask me what she’s up to. She’s pulled some corkers in her time.”

Granny Wicks looked over the gathering crowd. Then she pointed a bony arm at the glowing comet. “You know what it means,” she exclaimed shrilly. “You feel it in your bones, and your hearts quiver with fear. There’s death in the sky, and an omen to all the inhabitants of the Earth that destruction awaits men.”

She stopped and glared. The laughter that had first greeted her gave way to uneasiness as people glanced at their neighbors, then hastily at the comet, and back to Granny Wicks. Some began moving away in discomfort.

“You’re scared to listen, eh?” Granny shrilled at them. “You’re afraid to know what’s in store! Turn your backs then! Close your ears! You can’t change the signs in the heavens!”

A movement in the crowd caught Ken’s eye. He saw the stout figure of Sheriff Johnson moving toward the steps. The law officer stepped out in front and approached Granny Wicks.

“Come on now, Granny,” said Sheriff Johnson. “You wouldn’t want to scare folks out of a good night’s sleep, would you?”

“You let me alone, Sam Johnson! I’m saying what I have to say, and nobody’s going to stop me. Listen to me, all of you! There’s death in Mayfield in the winter that’s coming, and spring won’t see one man in ten left alive. Remember what I say. The stars have sent their messenger...”

“Okay, Granny, let’s go,” said the Sheriff. “You’ve said your piece and scared the daylights out of everybody. You’d better be getting on out to your place before it gets dark. The comet won’t light things up all night. How’s your supply of wood and coal for the winter, Granny? The boys been getting it in for you?”

“I got plenty, Sam Johnson. More’n I’ll need for this winter. Come spring, I won’t be around to be needing anything else from anybody. Neither will you!”

The Sheriff watched as the old woman climbed to her wagon seat again. Those standing nearby helped her gently. She took the reins and snapped them at the weary horse.