Chapter 20. _Reconstruction_
On the twentieth of January the comet reached its closest approach toEarth. It was then less than three million miles away. In the realm ofthe stars, this was virtually a collision, and if the head of the comethad been composed of anything more than highly rarefied gases it wouldhave 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 ofthe golden enemy a little before the sun came over the eastern hills. Hedoubted whether anyone else was aware it was closer today than it hadbeen before, or ever would be again. He doubted there would be muchscientific interest in the event, anywhere in the world.
In the observatory, he opened the dome and adjusted the telescope totake a few pictures and spectrograms. He remembered when he had donethis, a long time ago, with high excitement and curiosity, and heremembered later times when he had looked up with a bitter hate in hisheart for the impersonal object in the sky.
Now, he felt nothing. He was aware only of a kind of deadness in hisemotions with respect to the comet.
There was no excitement he could find in today's event of closeapproach, which was probably the only one of its kind that would berecorded in the history of mankind. He wondered if he had lost all hisscientific spirit that so momentous an occurrence could inspire him solittle now.
Yet, he no longer hated the comet, either. It was not a thing that couldbe hated, any more than the wind when it leveled a city, or the waterswhen they drowned the land and the people on it.
These things were beyond hate. You could fight them, but you never hadthe privilege of hating them. That was reserved only for other humanbeings. It was because of the great, impersonal nature of their commonenemy, he thought, that people had finally turned to fighting eachother. It was for this reason that the people of Mayfield had turnedtheir hate upon the scientists. The questions of food and privilegeswere only superficial excuses.
After an hour's work, Ken left the observatory. The gassy tail of thecomet was a full halo of lighter yellow hue, as seen directly along itscentral axis. The darker yellow of the core seemed to Ken like a livingheart.
The light spread to the dust motes in the air and curtained the wholesky with shimmering haze. It bathed the snow cover of the Earth, andreflected its golden image against the trees and the walls of thebuildings, and penetrated the windows. It gilded the stark, charcoalskeletons of the ruins it had created. It spread over the whole Earthand penetrated every pore. Ken had a momentary illusion that there wasnot a particle of substance in the world not permeated and illumined bythe comet's light. He felt as if it were inside his own being, throughhis vitals, and shining in the corridors of his brain.
For a moment the old hate returned. He wanted to shut his eyes againstthat omnipresent light and to run with all his strength to some secretplace where it could never penetrate.
He recalled the words of Dr. Larsen that seemed to have been uttered solong ago that they were scarcely within memory: "The universe is aterrible place that barely tolerates living organisms. It is a greatmiracle that here in this corner of the universe living things havefound a foothold. It does not pay ever to forget the fierceness of thehome in which we live."
There was no closing the eyes against this. He looked again at thecomet, the representative to Earthmen of all the fierceness and terrorthat lay in outer space, beyond the thin tissue of atmosphere thatprotected man and his fragile life. He would remember all the days ofhis life that the universe might be beautiful and exciting and terrible,but whatever it was, it held no friendliness toward man. It coulddestroy him with a mere whim of chance occurrence. Man had gained afoothold, but there was a long way to go to an enduring security.
* * * * *
On the day of the official beginning of operation of the giant projectorin Jenkin's pasture, there was a little ceremony. Sheriff Johnson stoodon an improvised platform and with an impressive gesture threw theswitch that officially turned the power into the great instrument. Ithad been successfully tested previously, but now it was launched in anoperation that would not cease until the last trace of comet dust hadfallen 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 theceremony. During the construction, a guard had been kept to preventsabotage 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-friendlinessin their eyes and in the expressions of their faces.
The Sheriff made a little speech after throwing the switch. He thankedthem for their co-operation and thousands of man-hours of labor, notmentioning that it had been obtained, initially, at the point of hisguns. He praised the scientists and noted that conquest of the cometmight never have been achieved without the genius of their men ofCollege 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 ledthis vast and noble effort from its inception. He will speak for allthose who have worked so steadfastly to bring this effort to asuccessful conclusion. Professor Maddox!"
There was a flurry of applause. Then it grew, and a shout went up. Theycalled his name and cheered as he stood, a figure dwarfed against thebackground of the great projector bowl.
Ken knew what he must be thinking as he waited for the cheers tosubside. He must be thinking: they have forgotten already, forgotten theangers and the jealousies and the fears, their attempts to destroy thesmall kernel of scientific hope in their midst. They had forgotteneverything but the warming belief that perhaps the worst of the terrorwas over and they had lived through it.
"I'm grateful," Professor Maddox was saying, "for the assistance youhave given this project, although you had no personal knowledge of whatit was meant to do. We asked for your faith and we asked for yourconfidence that we knew what we were about, at a time when we did notknow it even for ourselves. We were nourished and cared for at yourexpense in order that our work might go on. It would not have succeededwithout you."
Ken realized his father was not speaking ironically but meant just whathe said. And it was true.
The vengeful Meggs and the psychotic Granny Wicks had fought them andincited others who were frightened beyond reason. Yet there had beenHilliard and Johnson, the Council, and many others who had supportedthem. There were those who had built the projector, even though at thepoint of a gun, and at the threat of starvation. All of them togetherhad 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, andgeniuses, than a group of separate entities, they had come to thispoint. In the same way, they would go on, trying to destroy theweaknesses and multiply their strength.
* * * * *
By the middle of February the flu epidemic was over. Its toll hadleveled the population to a reasonable balance with the food supply.Whether Mayor Hilliard's ironic suggestion reflected any real principleor not, the situation had worked out in accord with his macabreprediction.
Ken had explained the comet's daily infinitesimal retreat and there wasa kind of steady excitement in estimating how much it diminished eachday. Actually, a week's decrease was too small for the naked eye todetect, but this did not matter.
Radio reports continued to tell of increased construction of projectorsthroughout the world. Tests were showing they were effective beyond allprevious hopes.
The populace of Mayfield was enthusiastic about the construction ofadditional units. Two more had been built, and three others wereplanned. Serious attention had to be given now to the coming plantingseason. Every square foot of available ground would have to becultivated to try to build up stores for all possible emergencies of thefollowing 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 doinghere? You can get back to your regular business," he stormed. "We aren'tthat hard up for farmers!"
"We have no regular business," said Professor Maddox. "The projectorwork is being taken care of. Mayfield will probably not be the site of auniversity again during our lifetimes. We want to be assigned some acresto plow. By the way, did you hear Art Matthews has got three moretractors in operation this week? If we can find enough gasoline we maybe 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 batterieswere all but exhausted, but a motor generator could be allotted to thestation as soon as other work was out of the way.
In Pasadena, they told him a diesel railway engine had been successfullydecontaminated and put into operation. Airtight packing boxes had beendesigned for the wheels to keep them from being freshly affected by thedust remaining in the air. It was planned to operate a train from themetropolitan area to the great farming sections to the east and north. Afew essential manufactures had also been revived, mostly in the form ofmachine shops to decontaminate engine parts.
Negotiations were under way to try to move the great wheat and othergrain stocks of the Midwest down the Mississippi River to New Orleansand through the Panama Canal to the Pacific Coast cities. Oldtimesailing vessels, rotting from years of disuse, were being rebuilt forthis purpose.
Ken found it hard to envision the Earth stirring with this much lifeafter 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 lightlyfelt. Yet, around the world, the cities were stirring again. Food forthe surviving was being found. The hates and the terrors were being putaway and men were pulling together again to restore their civilization.
Maria came to the radio shack to tell him dinner was ready. He invitedher to join him for a moment. "It may be possible for you and yourfather 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 itand decided to stay. It's as Papa always said: Where so much happens toyou, that's the place you always call home. More has happened to us in ayear here than in a lifetime back there."
Ken laughed. "That's a funny way to look at it, especially after thekind of things that have happened to you here. Maybe your father isright, 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 ofhappiness in him. "I mean," he added in sudden confusion, "I'm gladyou've decided this is the best place to live."
He changed the subject quickly. "Dad's even talking of trying to startup a kind of college here again. We wouldn't have the buildings, ofcourse, but it could be done in houses or somewhere else. He says he'sbeen thinking a lot about it and considers it would be our greatestmistake to neglect the continuance of our education. So I guess you canfinish school right here.
"Personally, I think all the professors out there trying to be dirtfarmers just got tired after a couple of days of plowing and decidedsomething 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 foodand other necessities. He's stepping down now, so there can be anelection, but he's demanding approval of that program before he leavesoffice. 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 evenheard old Hank Moss chewing out some guys in town for criticizingJohnson!"
Ken closed down the transmitter and receiver for the night. Together, heand Maria walked to the house. They stopped on the back porch andglanced toward the distant projector bowls reflecting the light of thecomet and of the sun.
Soon there would be only the sun to shine in the sky. The Earth wasalive. Man was on his way up again.