Apocalyptic fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Stars -- Fiction
A vast mass of matter it was, bulky, heavy, rushing without warning
out of the black mystery of the sky into the radiance of the sun. By
the second day it was clearly visible to any decent instrument, as a
speck with a barely sensible diameter, in the constellation Leo near
Regulus. In a little while an opera glass could attain it.
On the third day of the new year the newspaper readers of two
hemispheres were made aware for the first time of the real
importance of this unusual apparition in the heavens. “A Planetary
Collision,” one London paper headed the news, and proclaimed
Duchine’s opinion that this strange new planet would probably
collide with Neptune. The leader writers enlarged upon the topic. So
that in most of the capitals of the world, on Jan. 3, there was an
expectation, however vague, of some eminent phenomenon in the sky;
and as the night followed the sunset round the globe thousands of
men turned their eyes skyward to see—the old familiar stars just as
they had always been.
Until it was dawn in London and Pollux setting, and the stars
overhead grown pale. The winter’s dawn it was, a sickly filtering
accumulation of daylight, and the light of gas and candles shone
yellow in the windows to show where people were astir. But the
yawning policeman saw the thing, the busy crowds in the market
stopped agape, workmen going to their work betimes, milkmen, the
drivers of news carts, dissipation going home jaded and pale,
homeless wanderers, sentinels on their beats, and in the country,
laborers trudging afield, poachers slinking home, all over the dusky
quickening country it would be seen—and out at sea by seamen
watching for the day—a great white star, come suddenly into the
westward sky!
Brighter it was than any star in our skies; brighter than the
evening star at its brightest. It still glowed out white and large,
no mere twinkling spot of light but a small round clear shining
disk, an hour after the day had come. And where science has not
reached, men stared and feared, telling one another of the wars and
pestilences that are foreshadowed by these fiery signs in the
heavens. Sturdy Boers, dusky Hottentots, Gold Coast negroes,
Frenchmen, Spaniards, Portuguese, stood in the glow of the sunrise
watching the setting of this strange new star.
And in a hundred observatories there had been suppressed excitement,
rising almost to shouting pitch, as the two remote bodies had rushed
together. There had been a hurrying to and fro to gather
photographic apparatus and spectroscope; to gather this appliance
and that, to record the novel astonishing sight, the destruction of
a world,—for it was a world, a sister planet of our earth, far
greater than our earth indeed, that had so suddenly flashed into
flaming death. Neptune it was, which had been struck, fairly, and
squarely, by the planet from outer space and the heat of concussion
had incontinently turned two solid globes into one vast mass of
incandescence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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