The Comet

Clement’s phone’s vibration snapped him out of the trance he was in: an alarm for 20:05 was ringing, indicating that it was fifteen minutes to the comet’s brightest point. It was time to act. He collected his thoughts and put on the most upbeat voice that he could:

“Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen! The comet will be entering its closest and brightest point in exactly fifteen minutes! I invite you all to the second floor of our observatory to have a closer look at this magnificent phenomenon!”

Eliza’s usually quiet voice interrupted him: “Right after you dim your phone screens and turn off the camera flash, of course.” Right. He’d forgotten something very important - to remind them not to blind themselves and others. That unspoken rule of astronomy. The one that people got really mad over. But that’s why they had each other anyways, he reasoned. And plus, it was really nice seeing the shyest club member finally starting to speak up like this after so much encouragement.

Clement led the way up the all too familiar steps and around the winding staircase, hoping that his figure and the glow-in-the-dark strips on the steps would help avoid any accidents. As he ascended, his mood greatly improved in preparation for the sight ahead. Like hunters, they had searched for it, observed it, chased it down, boxed it in with unyielding calculations, and were now getting ready to finally catch it. Despite the many complex incidents of the day, he was starting to remember why he loved astronomy so much.

The group made quick work of the stairwell, thankfully without casualties this time. As they pooled onto the second floor, Clement ran final checks in his head to avoid another embarrassing correction. Despite ample lighting provided by a small lamp in one corner and the desktop’s screensaver in another, he could not see who the last person was, but knew for sure that everyone was present when the mosquito net went down.

He was considering allowing them a few minutes to look around before opening the dome and turning the telescope, after all, many of them hadn’t been up here before. This proved the right decision as Howard’s heavy hand dropped on his shoulder. This man, he knew, would not hesitate to interrupt him to ask the questions that he wanted.

“So, Mister Wilson. What’s that I see on the wall? Adding modern influence to my rustic, old-fashioned club, are we?”

His tone was joking, but Clement was prepared for a real battle to the death over this issue. He’d said many things to all the school administration inspectors, club members, and new recruits over the years, but the most consistent of all was that the anime poster was non-negotiable.

“It’s popular with the kids. One of our new guys even told me he got into astronomy because of it. Maybe he’s here somewhere, try looking for him after the big event.”

Though he was unsure if this argument convinced Howard, it certainly did thoroughly amuse him: “Hah! The kids, you say. Well, if the kids like it, then I suppose it has to stay.”

Clement laughed along, realizing just how old he was making himself out to sound.

“It’s nice,” his former mentor continued, “So nice to be able to see this place again. Thanks a bunch for the invitation, and another thanks for not tearing it down to make your own. I really enjoyed the way you chose to update it with pieces of new trends. I’m sure the others would have, too, if they were here.” A deep sadness filled his eyes, indicating to Clement that the old guard had gotten separated somewhere in the last three years. A shame.

However, time went on, he reasoned. Through the waxing and waning of everything else, this alone remained constant. There wasn’t any use in dwelling on old memories, and especially not ones that made one sad. He had to try to cheer him up in the most surefire method that he knew.

He slapped Howard back, mirroring his formerly upbeat tone “Oh, new trends? You ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Before long, they stood near the rotating mechanism. Clement punched in the proper numbers - at this point checked so much that he’d memorized them, and hit the hand-labelled GO button.

The tiny electric motor roared to life, cutting off the many conversations that were going on, and rotated the dome around its axis. The process was neither too fast nor too slow, and once it finished rotating the control panel let out a pleasant beep, a sound “borrowed” from a washing machine. A press of the OPEN button, and the guests were hit with the last fleeting rays of sunset.

“Mr. Yao. The telescope, please. You’ll find the numbers stuck to it on a sticky note.” His direct replacement, the new deputy president William Yao, manned the telescope, quickly bringing it into position.

He turned to Howard again. “You know, I could’ve automated the telescope as well, but nothing really beats the feel of turning those knobs yourself. Plus, it’s a great experience for the younger members.”

Howard laughed, his good mood instantly restored. “You’re a magician, man. This place is so high-tech now it’s hardly recognizable. What a sight for sore eyes!” For Clement, this was the highest praise, so he looked out into the sky, wallowing in it. He would be riding this feeling for at least a week, he told himself.

Once again, though, Eliza cut these thoughts off at the best part: “Lights off, please - they’ll blind you if we keep them for much longer. The monitor can stay, though. It’s dim enough to not make a difference.” That meant that Yao had already found the bearing and that Andrew had double-checked it for him. What impressive speed.

There was some confusion as to who would turn off the lights, but someone finally did, and the room descended into a dusk, with only the sunset illuminating it. Not daring to even open his phone anymore, Clement checked his glow-in-the-dark watch for a time instead. 20:16 - four minutes remaining.

He was waiting patiently when someone hit his arm lightly to get his attention. Next thing he knew, Jean had pulled him aside to the unoccupied corner where the desktop stood.

“So. About that club matter you and Andrew were talking about. I asked him first, for the record, but didn’t get anything coherent.”

There it was, the dreaded conversation. He respected her too much to lie, and the arguments he’d heard from Andrew were making more and more sense as his frustration with the mysterious federal agent grew, so he had no choice.

“Well. We made somewhat of a discovery, me and Andrew. A mysterious celestial body just out of the Kuiper belt. And AstroCalc told us that it’s heading straight for us.”

She narrowed her eyes: “And what’s that got to do with the club? Sounds like a small meteorite or something.”

“AstroCalc says it’s rather big. The size fluctuates between pictures because of the distance, but it’s big. And also, we’ve received-

Beep. The computer’s screensaver disappeared as a new message flashed on the screen. At first, Clement’s heart sank - did they know he was telling people about it? He reached for the mouse, clicked on the message, and his eyes widened:

RCP 3864 - CAT’S OUT OF THE BAG. YOU ARE FREE TO DISCUSS WHATEVER YOU SEE FIT. WE APOLOGIZE.

She understood instantly. The threats, where they came from, the implications of the information being withheld, what would happen if it leaked, and what would follow very soon. Emotions flashed on her face, each quickly giving way to the next: confusion, shock, horror, apathy, and finally, as her façade was overwhelmed, a sad, exhausted smile. She extended a hand as if for a formal handshake, which Clement took, and shook.

“Well. It’s been nice knowing you, Clem.”

“Likewise. An honour. Let’s at least get a good look at the comet before everything collapses - we won’t be seeing many more like it.”

Then, the phones began ringing. All at once. Concerned family members, friends, boyfriends and girlfriends. An emergency alert on the phones that were second priority to their loved ones. Some cried, others yelled, others yet stomped on the ground, restrained by club members to not break anything important. Not that that mattered anyways, anymore. Someone turned on the radio, confirming what everyone already knew. Humanity had a year left, and not nearly enough technological prowess to stop what was coming.

Amid this mass of people just two people, a boy and a girl, watched the comet’s tail bleed crimson into the evening sky and onto the sunset’s dying embers.