Chapter 17. _Balance of Nature_
He lay between white sheets, and the stench of burning things waseverywhere, in the air that he breathed, in the clean white covers thatwere over him. His own flesh seemed to smell of it.
He was not quite sure if he were still in a world of dreams or if thiswere real. It was a golden world; the snow-covered ground beyond thewindow was gilded with rich, yellow light. He remembered something aboutsuch light that was not pleasant. He had forgotten just what it was.
Maria Larsen stood at the foot of his bed. She smiled as his eyesopened. "Hello, Ken," she said. "I've been waiting so long. I've beenafraid you'd never wake up."
"Tom Doyle," he said. "Did you find Tom Doyle?"
Maria frowned. "I don't know who you mean!"
"You haven't found his family yet?" Ken cried, struggling to rise in thebed. "Go and find them right now. I promised Tom Doyle I'd do it."
Maria approached and pushed him gently back upon the pillow, drawing thecovers over him once more. "Tell me about Tom Doyle," she said. "You'venever told me who he is."
It seemed utterly stupid for her not to know, but Ken patiently toldher about Doyle's Service, the best little station in the world, at thecorner of First and Green. "I told Tom I'd take care of them," he said."Now go and bring them here!"
"Ken," Maria said, "all the nomads who escaped, and there weren't many,retreated around the south end of town and picked up the women andchildren they'd left there. They moved on south. That was 3 days ago.We've no idea where they've gone."
Ken tried to rise again against her struggles to hold him down. "Theycouldn't have gone so far that a man on horseback couldn't find them!Why won't you help me? I promised I'd see to it!"
He lay back weakly, covering his face with his arm. "Go and find TomDoyle," he said. In detail he described where he had left the man. "Youdon't believe what I'm saying. Get Tom Doyle and he'll tell you it's thetruth."
"He wouldn't be there now. All the wounded, including the nomads, havebeen moved to homes where they are being cared for. The dead, boththeirs and ours, have been burned and their ashes buried."
"Do what I tell you!" Ken implored.
With bewilderment and fear on her face, Maria stood back from the bedand looked at Ken's troubled face. Then quietly she stole from the roomand shut the door behind her.
* * * * *
He had been overworking himself for weeks, Dr. Adams was saying, and hadbeen living on a poor diet that would scarcely keep a medium-sized pupgoing.
"Then you had a shock, the kind of shock that shakes a man to his veryroots. Now you're on your way up again."
Ken glanced about the room. It seemed normal now and there was only agreat emptiness within him to replace the frantic urgency heremembered.
"What you're trying to say, Doc, is that I went off my rocker for awhile."
Dr. Adams smiled. "If you want to put it that way. However, you're finenow."
Ken stared at the ceiling for a few moments. "Will you still say so if Iask again about Tom Doyle?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Was he found?"
"No. Maria actually tried to find him for you. I'm afraid your Tom Doylewas among the dead."
"I killed him."
"We killed a lot of them--and they killed a lot of our people."
"How did it end?" asked Ken. "I remember the darkness and just wanderingaround the streets shooting, but I don't know what I hit or where Iwent."
"That's the way it ended," said Dr. Adams. "House-to-house streetfighting, and we won. Don't ask me how. You were in a sector that wascut off almost as soon as you entered it. Even where communication wasmaintained things were nearly as chaotic.
"Johnson says it was just plain, dumb luck. Hilliard says he doesn'tthink it really happened. Dr. Aylesworth calls it a miracle, a gift anda blessing that shows we're meant to survive. Most of the rest of us arewilling to look at it his way."
"I could do something for Tom Doyle," Ken said finally. "He was a decentguy. They all were, once. I could find his wife and children."
The doctor shook his head. "All who are left of that group of nomads aregoing to die. We've got to let them die, just as we let the people inChicago and Berkeley and ten thousand other towns die. We have no morepower to save Tom Doyle's family than we had to save them."
"We're taking care of the nomad wounded! We could do as much for justone woman and two kids!"
"We're helping the wounded until they get on their feet," Dr. Adams saidquietly. "Then they'll be sent on--to wherever they came from."
Ken stared at him.
"There is only one thing we could never forgive ourselves for," thedoctor continued. "That one thing would be letting the Earth itself die.As long as there are people alive who can fight the comet, we still havea chance. Nothing else in the whole world matters now. Don't you seethere is no other purpose in keeping Mayfield alive except to supportthe few people who understand the dust and can fight it? Beyond that,Mayfield has no more right to live than any other town that has alreadydied. But Mayfield has to stay alive to keep you and your father and theothers like you fighting the dust."
Dr. Adams gave permission for Ken to be out of bed for a short time. Hetried, after the doctor had left, and almost fell on his face. The wholeworld seemed to spin in enormous cart wheels. He persisted though, and 2hours later he was making his way slowly up College Hill with the helpof Maria who walked beside him and lent her arm for support.
At the top of the hill they stopped and turned for a look at the valleybelow them. The ruin was plain to see in spite of the snow cover. Athird of the town had been completely burned. At the old skating rink,workmen were clawing through the debris for usable remains of food. Amiserably small pile of items showed the extent of their success.
Curls of smoke still rose from the ashes, and the nauseating smell ofdeath and burning floated over the whole valley.
Of his own experience Ken felt only a numbing confusion as yet. Hethought he should feel like a fool for his collapse at the height of thebattle, but he did not. He felt as if he had marched to the absoluteedge of human endurance and had looked to the dark pit below.
He turned to Maria. "I'll be okay now. It's time for you to get back tothe radio station. Tell them what has happened and get their reports.I'll see you tonight."
It seemed a long time since he had last been in the laboratory. Theworkers were once more in the midst of their thousands of trials andfailures to produce a colloidal, non-poisonous form of thedecontaminant, which could be infused in the atmosphere of the world todestroy the comet dust.
He stayed until his father left at 7 o'clock, and they went hometogether. He still had to depend on someone else for assistance on thesteep and slippery hill.
When they reached home Maria had a lengthy report ready from thePasadena people, and one from Schenectady.
Professor Maddox read the reports at the dinner table. He passed thesheets to Professor Larsen as he finished them. Ken saw he was notreading with his usual thorough analysis. When he had finished hereturned to his eating with perfunctory motions.
"Anything new?" Ken asked.
"The same old story. A thousand hours of experiments, and no success. Ifeel we're all on the wrong track, trying to perfect a chemical colloid,based on the decontaminant, which will destroy the dust. I feel thatnothing's going to come of it."
Ken said, "I had a crazy dream the other day while Dr. Adams had meunder drugs. I had almost forgotten it. I dreamed I was walking alongthe street and had a special kind of flashlight in my hand. When I cameto a car that wouldn't run, standing by the curb, I turned the beam ofthe flashlight on it. Then whoever owned it could step in and driveaway. After I had done that to all the cars in Mayfield I turned it onthe sky and just kept flashing it back and forth and the comet dustfell down like ashes and the air was clean."
Professor Maddox smiled. "A nice dream! I wish we could make it cometrue. I'm afraid
that idea will have to go back to the pages of yourscience fiction, where it probably came from in the first place."
"Dad, I'm serious!" Ken said earnestly.
"About making a magic flashlight?" His father was almost sarcastic,which revealed the extent of his exhaustion, Ken thought. He was neverlike that.
"What I'm trying to say is that there are other ways to precipitatecolloids. We haven't even given any thought to them. Colloids can beprecipitated by heat, by pressure, by vibration. Maybe a dozen otherways that I don't know anything about.
"Maybe some kind of physical means, rather than chemical, is the answerto our problem. Why don't we let Pasadena and the other labs go on withthe chemical approach but let us do some work on possible physicalmeans?"
Professor Maddox sat very still. His glance passed from Ken to ProfessorLarsen. The latter nodded. "I think we have indeed been foolish inignoring this possibility up to now. I wonder if Ken hasn't got a verygood thought there."
"Have you anything specific to suggest?" Ken's father asked.
"Well, I've been wondering about supersonic methods. I know that asupersonic beam can be used for coagulation and precipitation."
"It would depend on the size of the colloidal particles, and on thefrequency of the wave, wouldn't it? Perhaps we _could_ find a frequencythat would precipitate the dust, but I wonder if we wouldn't have thesame problem as with mechanical treatment of the Earth's atmosphere.Even if we succeeded on a laboratory scale, how could it be applied on apractical, worldwide scale?"
"I don't know," said Ken. "It may not work out, but I think it's worthtrying."
"Yes, I agree. I don't think we'll give up the chemical research, but agroup of you can begin work on this supersonic approach tomorrow."
The losses of food at the warehouse were enormous. Less than 5 percentof the contents could be removed in usable form. Most of the cannedgoods had burst from internal pressure. Grain and other dried productswere burned, for the most part. The food supply of the community was nowreduced to six-tenths of what it had been.
The population had been reduced by one-tenth, in men killed by thenomads.
Mayor Hilliard and his councilmen struggled to work out a reasonableration plan, based upon the ratio of supplies to number of consumers.There was no arithmetical magic by which they could stretch the foodsupply to satisfy minimum needs until next harvest.
There was going to be death by starvation in Mayfield before spring.
Hilliard fought through an agreement in the Council that the researcherson College Hill, and all their families, were to have first priority,and that they were to get full rations at all times in order to keep onwith their work.
There were grumblings among the councilmen, but they finally agreed tothe wisdom of this. They agreed there were babies and small children whoneeded a somewhat normal ration, at least. There were over four hundredwounded who had to be cared for as a result of the battle. There werealso the aged, like Granny Wicks, and her companions.
"Well try to give the little ones a chance," said Mayor Hilliard, "butthe old ones don't need it. Perhaps we can spare a little extra for thewounded who have a chance of survival, but not much. We're going to seethat College Hill survives."
Before spring, however, a choice would still have to be made--who was tohave the remaining share of food, and who was not?
Privately, Hilliard wondered if any of them had a chance to see anotherspring.
The decision to support the scientists at the expense of the otherinhabitants of Mayfield could not be kept secret. When it became known,a tide of fury swept the community. The general public no longer had anycapacity to accept the larger view in preference to relief of their ownsuffering. One of the college students who worked in the laboratory wasbeaten by a crowd as he walked through town. He died the same evening.
Suddenly, the scientists felt themselves standing apart, pariahs amongtheir own people. They debated whether to take the allotment. They askedthemselves over and over if they were tempted to take it because theyshared the same animal greed that gripped the whole town, or if genuinealtruism prodded them to accept.
Dr. Adams met their arguments. "You accept," he said, "or everything wefought for is worthless. You can stand the hate of the townspeople.Scientists have done it before, and it's a small sacrifice so long asyou can continue your work. Those of us who are supporting you believein that work. Now get on with it, and let's not have any more of theseridiculous arguments!"
The suggestion of physical means of precipitating the dust came like aburst of light to the entire group as they began to examine thepossibilities. Within a week, they had determined there was indeed abroad range of supersonic frequencies capable of precipitating the dust.
The night Professor Maddox and his companions came home to announcetheir success they were met with the news that Mrs. Larsen was ill.During the day, she had developed a high temperature with severe painsin her body.
Professor Larsen was deeply worried. "She's never been ill like thisbefore."
Ken was sent for Dr. Adams, but the latter did not come for almost 2hours. When he did arrive, they were shocked by his appearance. His facewas lined and hollow with exhaustion, beyond anything they had seen aslong as they had known him. He looked as if he were on the verge ofillness himself.
He brushed away their personal questions and examined Mrs. Larsen,rather perfunctorily, they thought. However there was no hesitation ashe announced his diagnosis. "It's the sixteenth case I've seen today.Over a hundred and fifty this week. We've got an epidemic of flu on ourhands. It's no mild, patty-caking kind, either. It's as virulent as anythat's ever been experienced!"
Mrs. Maddox uttered a low cry of despair. "How much more must we becalled upon to endure?"
No one answered. Dr. Adams rummaged in his bag. "I have vaccine for allof you. I don't know how much good it will do against this brand of bugthat's loose now, but we can give it a chance."
"Is everyone in town getting it?" Professor Maddox asked.
Dr. Adams snorted. "Do you think we keep supplies of everything inemergency proportions? College Hill gets it. Nobody else."
"We can't go on taking from everyone else like this!" protested Mrs.Maddox. "They have as much right to it as we. There should be a lotteryor something to determine who gets the vaccine."
"Hilliard's orders," said Dr. Adams. "Besides, we've settled all this.You first, Ken."
For a few days after the battle with the nomads, it had seemed as if thecommon terror had welded all of Mayfield into an impregnable unit.There was a sense of having stood against all that man and nature couldoffer, and of having won out against it. However, the penetratingreality of impending competition among themselves for the necessities oflife, for the very right to live, had begun to shatter the bonds thatheld the townspeople as one.
The killing of the college student in protest against the partiality toCollege Hill was the first blast that ripped their unity. Some protestedopenly against the viciousness of it, but most seemed beyond caring.
There were two events of note in the days following. The first was aspontaneous, almost valley-wide resurgence of memory of Granny Wicks andher warnings. Everything she had said had come true. The feeling sweptMayfield that here in their very midst was an oracle of truth who hadbeen almost wholly ignored. There was nothing they needed to know somuch as the outcome of events with respect to themselves and to the townas a whole.
Almost overnight, streams of visitors began to pour toward the home forthe aged where Granny lived. When they came, she smiled knowingly andcontentedly, as if she had been expecting them, waiting for them.Obligingly, and with the peaceful aura of omniscience, she took theminto her parlor and told them of things to come.
At the same time, Frank Meggs felt new stirrings within him. He sensedthat he had been utterly and completely right in all his years ofcriticism of those who managed the affairs of Mayfield. The presentcondition of things proved it. The town was in utter chaos, its means ofsu
rvival all but destroyed. Incompetently, its leaders bumbled along,not caring for the mass of the people, bestowing the people's goods onthe leaders' favorites. He began saying these things on the streets. Hegot a box, and used it for a platform, and he shouted from the streetcorners that the leaders were corrupt, and none of them were safeunless College Hill and City Hall were wiped out. He said that he wouldbe a better mayor than anyone else in Mayfield.
He had listeners. They gathered on the corners in the daytime, and theylistened at night by the light of flaming torches. Many people began tobelieve that he was right.
* * * * *
A week after Mrs. Larsen's illness, it was evident beyond all doubt thatMayfield was the victim of a killer epidemic. Mayor Hilliard himself wasstricken, and he sent word that he wanted Professor Maddox, Ken, and Dr.Larsen to come to his bedside.
He was like a feeble old man when they arrived. All the fire and thelife had gone from his eyes, but he brightened a little as they cameinto the room.
"At least you are still alive," he said gruffly. "I just wanted to makesure of that fact, and I wanted to have a final understanding that it'ssoaked into your thick heads that nothing is to interfere with your ownsurvival."
"We hope you're not overestimating our worth," said Professor Maddox.
"I don't know whether I am or not! All I know is that if you're notworth saving then nobody is. So, if this town is going to die, you aregoing to be the last ones left alive, and if you don't give me your wordon this right now I'll come back and haunt you every minute you dosurvive!"
"In order to haunt, you have to be in the proper realm," said ProfessorMaddox, attempting a joke.
Mayor Hilliard sighed. "I think I can take care of that, too. I'm beat.You're close to it, but you've got to hang on. Carry on with your workon the hill. One thing more: This fellow Meggs has got to be crushedlike a worm. When I go, there won't be any election. Johnson is takingover and he'll look out for you, the same as I have done."
"You're going to be all right!" said Professor Maddox. "You'll be up onyour feet in another week!"
The Mayor seemed not to have heard him. He was staring at the ceiling,and there was an amused smile at the corners of his lips. "Ain't MotherNature a funny old gal, though?" he said. "She's planned this to workout just right, and I think it's another of old Doc Aylesworth's signsthat Mayfield and College Hill are going to live, so that the rest ofthe world will, too. It may get knocked pretty flat, but it's going toget up again."
"What are you talking about?" said Ken.
"The invasion of the nomads, and then this flu. Don't you see it? Firstwe get our food supply knocked out, and now old Mamma Nature is going tocut the population down to match it. We tried to figure out who wasgoing to eat and who was going to starve, and now it's going to be allfigured out for us.
"Balance of nature, or something, you scientists call it, don't you?" Heglanced up at the professors and Ken. "It's a wonderful thing," he said,"just absolutely wonderful!"
The Year When Stardust Fell Page 18