Wales saw men around him become savage
beasts, shooting, looting, killing in frantic
hysteria. Men without hope, they awaited the—
Last Call For Doomsday!
By S. M. Tenneshaw
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
December 1956
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A deep shudder shook Jay Wales. He wished now he hadn't had to comeback here to Earth this last time. He wanted to remember the old worldof man as it had been, not as it was now in its dying hour.
"It seems impossible that it will really happen," said Hollenberg, thedocket captain.
He wasn't looking at Earth. He was looking beyond it at the glitteringstars.
Wales looked too. He knew where to look. He saw the faint little sparkof light far across the Solar System.
A spark, a pinpoint, an insignificant ray upon the optic nerves—thatwas all it was.
That—and the hand of God reaching athwart the universe.
"It'll happen," said Wales, without turning. "September 27th, 1997.Four months from now. It'll happen."
The rocket-ship was suddenly convulsed through all its vast fabric bythe racking roar of brake-jets letting go. Both men exhaled and layback in their recoil-chairs. The thundering and quivering soon ceased.
"People," said Hollenberg, then, "are wondering if it really will.Happen, I mean."
For the first time, Wales looked at him sharply. "People where?"
Hollenberg nodded toward the window. "On Earth. Every run we make, wehear it. They say—"
And here it was again, Wales thought, the rumors, the whispers, thathad been coming out to Mars, stronger and more insistent each week.
There in the crowded new prefab cities on Mars, where hundreds ofmillions of Earth-folk were already settling into their new life, withmillions more supposed to arrive each month, the rumors were always thesame.
"Something's wrong, back on Earth. The Evacuation isn't going right.The ships aren't on schedule—"
Wales hadn't worried much about it, at first. He had his own job.Fitting the arriving millions into a crowded new planet, a new, hardway of life, was work enough. He was fourth in command at ResettlementBureau, and that meant a job that never ended.
Even when the Secretary called him in to the new UN capital on Mars,he'd only expected a beef about resettlement progress. He hadn'texpected what he got.
The Secretary, an ordinarily quiet, relaxed man, had been worn thin andgray and nervous by a load bigger than any man had ever carried before.He had wasted no time at all on amenities when Wales was shown in.
"You knew Kendrick personally?"
There was no need to use first names. Since five years before, therewas only one Kendrick in the world who mattered.
"I knew him," Wales had said. "I went to school with both Lee andMartha Kendrick—his sister."
"Where is he?"
Wales had stared. "Back on Earth, at Westpenn Observatory. He said he'dbe along soon."
The Secretary said, "He's not at the Observatory. He hasn't come toMars yet, either. He's disappeared."
"But, why—"
"I don't care why, Wales. I want to know where. Kendrick's got tobe found. His disappearance is affecting the Evacuation. That's thereport I get from a dozen different men back on Earth. I message them,'Why are the rocket-schedules falling behind?' I tell them, 'It'sDoomsday Minus 122, and Evacuation