The Renegade Star

by John Russell Fearn, Vargo Statten

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Space Opera

Synopsis

When the Solar System is doomed to absolute destruction by the close passage of a renegade star, super scientist Evelyn Stokes is Earth's only chance of survival.

Release date: September 30, 2015

Publisher: Gateway

Print pages: 80

Sample

At first it was only a smudge on the face of infinity, the aberration of light waves showing as a pin-point dot on the photographic plates and spectroheliographs of the world’s observatories. A “something” situated far out beyond the Milky Way Galaxy and, at present, of not the remotest interest to the man and woman in the street.

For that matter, even the astronomers themselves were not particularly perturbed to commence with. They noted the unexplained arrival, of course, and in conference they decided it was probably the nucleus of a new nebula far out in the depths. If so, it would be interesting to watch its development. Routine—nothing more.

To Arthur Stokes, Ph.D., however, the phenomenon was not something to be brushed aside and relegated to the files of an observatory. Here was something different, something had not happened within measurable time.

“That smudge,” he told his wife, “is not a nebula, nor is it a streak of dust in the cosmos. It is a star!”

Janet Stokes should have been impressed, but she was not. She could hardly be blamed. Her knowledge of astronomy was very limited and, though she helped her husband under his direct instructions, she had not the kind of mind that could attune itself to scientific order. She was happy enough in her role of wife to one of the greatest scientists of the day, happy too in caring for their one-year-old daughter, Evelyn.

“Yes, a star,” Stokes repeated, wandering slowly up and down the big lounge of his ancestral home in the Scottish Highlands. “So far the astronomers don’t seem to have observed that.”

Janet looked up from the settee where she was playing happily with little Evelyn.

“But surely, Arthur, they must know as much as you do?” she exclaimed. “They have far more powerful equipment than you have, and——”

“Yes, my dear, I know,” Stokes interrupted her. “But they cling slavishly to routine. Later, of course, they will know what I know already because it will be forced upon them. I have worked the whole business out not by instruments but by mathematics. And I am satisfied, from perturbations I have noticed, from angles of light refracted, that that smudge is a star, and it is moving—towards Earth.”

Still there was no impression made. Stokes gave a little patient smile and lounged forward to look down on his wife and daughter. He was a big, genial-faced man with a square chin, very blue eyes, and a forehead which revealed his descent through a line of mathematicians. Also in his lineage was a connection with royalty and the highest born in the land. In fact Arthur Stokes, Ph.D., had inherited a vast amount of this world’s goods from his almost ducal ancestors, but rather than idle his time he had flung his high intelligence and inexhaustible energy into the pursuit of science.

And Janet? Slender, dark, intensely willing—but, dear soul, never very bright.

“Supposing it is a star?” she asked, smiling. “What is one amongst so many?”

Stokes sat beside her, playing gently with the black curls of little Evelyn. He answered his wife thoughtfully.

“Stars, my dear, do not move as a general rule. For all practical purposes they may be considered as fixed. A star which moves is technically called a ‘runaway’, and none has been known to exist since, perhaps, the creation of the Solar System. At that time, according to some theorists, a wandering star passed close beside our Sun, tore out flaming filaments therefrom, and they in turn broke up and condensed into worlds. That that theory is absolutely exact is open to doubt, but at least it is reasonable. Since that time no star has ever been known to be on the move—until now.”

There was a gravity in her husband’s expression which made Janet frown a little.

“Arthur——” She laid a hand on his arm gently. “Does it matter if there is a star on the move? I—I mean, is it likely to be dangerous?”

“Depends.” Stokes looked pensively before him. “If it comes within measurable distance of our Sun it can be very dangerous indeed. If it does not——Well, we should be treated to the most amazing celestial picture ever, a picture of a sun on the move, streaking through the void to a destination unknown. That cannot happen for many years, of course—twenty at least. At the moment this smudge in infinity is light-centuries away and its course not accurately determined. Later, we shall know.”

“I’m sure you’re worrying needlessly,” Janet smiled. “You take your science much too seriously, Arthur.”

“Bless you!” He got to his feet, took a turn round the lounge, and then wandered out thoughtfully. In a few moments he had reached the laboratory-observatory which lay at the rear of the great house. It was perfectly equipped, as indeed it ought to be with the wealth of Arthur Stokes behind it.

He went across to the desk, studied his notes, and then moved to the telescope. It was not a big one compared to the giants of the world’s observatories, but it was quite sufficient for observations which could be elaborated upon by mathematics. Stokes sat in the chair, adjusted the eyepiece controls, and looked out onto the depths of space. Tonight the view was fairly clear, the all too frequent Scottish mists having been dissipated by a cold, thin wind. Yes, out there in the void loomed the Smudge, as though a giant had drawn an ashy finger on the face of the deep.

For ten minutes Stokes peered at it, making notes on the pad close by his right hand. When this job was done he fitted the photographic equipment to the eyepiece, made the necessary exposure, and then developed the plate. What he beheld later on the scale-drawn rectangle was enough to make him take an early train to London the following morning and, by mid-afternoon, he was in conference with the directors of the Greenwich Observatory.

When the preliminary courtesies were over Stokes said quietly: “It must have become apparent to you, gentlemen, that something is happening way out in space which, in course of time, will constitute a real menace to this planet of ours.”

“More than apparent,” responded the observatory’s Curator, Dr. Adamson. “Our plates, like yours, show that this Smudge, as it is called at the moment, is a star. A G-type dwarf of similar dimensions to our Sun. The hazy, smudgy effect is caused purely by tremors in our own atmosphere. If we could get beyond it we’d find the Smudge to be a pin-point of light.”

“And coming our way,” Stokes emphasised. He thought to himself that he owed them an apology; he would have to tell Janet they were not such fools.

Heads nodded and faces were sombre. Then the Curator took up the thread again.

“It was good of you to go to the trouble of working out the relevant mathematics, Dr. Stokes, and your reputation as a scientist guarantees their infallibility, but I assure you we have not been asleep either. Behind closed doors we have consulted with all the world’s astronomers and we are agreed that the Smudge is the greatest danger which ever threatened. It is possible, since the course of this runaway star seems to be headed this way, that it may pass close beside our Sun and bring about a repetition of the chaos which created the Solar System—or if not that then we shall endure such perturbations as we have never known. It is inevitable that a heavy body of that size, moving swiftly, will spin the planets of this System around like rubber balls in a bowl of water.”

“In my belief,” Stokes said, studying his notes, “the Smudge will not actually collide with our Sun. At its nearest approach it will be about forty million miles distant from him. Which is quite near enough to bring chaos amongst us.”

“Chaos!” one of the scientists murmured, with a wry smile. “An excellent name for our cosmic visitor.”

“You say you are all agreed on the danger,” Stokes continued. “Very well then, what are we going to do about it? I realise I am not an accepted astronomer therefore the initial move must come from you, Dr. Adamson. People must be told of what is coming——”

“Yes.” The Curator hesitated. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Suppose! Great heavens, doctor, there can’t be any doubt of it!”

“It will be at least twenty years before this runaway comes into measurable reach of the Sun,” the Curator continued. “That is a very long period of time. For myself I am in favour of only revealing the dread possibilities by slow degrees. If we suddenly reveal to the world that a star is going to bounce our Solar System around, perhaps even destroy Earth itself, we are going to have utter panic. Indeed we may not even be believed. With the naked eye the invader cannot even be seen yet!”

“I think,” Stokes said quietly, “that you are evading the issue, Doctor. I can see your point of view, but you must inform the public. If you don’t, I will. I feel it my duty.”

The Curator got to his feet. “You have my word, Dr. Stokes, that I shall tell everything that is necessary—in due time. I dare not stampede humanity. First I will contact the Government. In turn other countries will be informed. Slowly, the world will know that——”

“How long will all this beating about the bush take?” Stokes asked bluntly, and the Curator looked annoyed.

“Take? Oh, a few years maybe. The sugar-coated pill.”

“Yes, and . . .