The Coming of the Ice
By G. Peyton Wertenbaker
Strange men these creatures of the hundredth century ...Copyright, 1926, by E. P. Co., Inc.
A Classic Reprint from AMAZING STORIES, June, 1926
Introduction by Sam Moskowitz
One of the gravest editorialproblems faced by the editors ofAMAZING STORIES when theylaunched its first issue, datedApril, 1926, was the problem offinding or developing authorswho could write the type ofstory they needed. As a stop-gap,the first two issues of AMAZINGSTORIES were devoted entirely toreprints. But reprints were toconstitute a declining portion ofthe publication's contents for thefollowing four years. The firstnew story the magazine boughtwas Coming of the Ice, by G.Peyton Wertenbaker, which appearedin its third issue. Wertenbakerwas not technically a newcomerto science fiction, since hehad sold his first story to Gernsback'sSCIENCE AND INVENTION,The Man From the Atom, in1923 when he was only 16! Now,at the ripe old age of 19, he wasappearing in the world's firsttruly complete science fictionmagazine.
The scope of his imaginationwas truly impressive and, despitethe author's youth, Coming ofthe Ice builds to a climax of considerablepower.
Wertenbaker, under the nameof Green Peyton, went on to sellhis first novel, Black Cabin, in1933. He eventually became anauthority on the Southwest withmany regional volumes to hiscredit: For God and Texas,America's Heartland, The Southwest,and San Antonio, City ofthe Sun. But he never lost his interestin space travel, assistingHubertus Strughold on the writingof The Green and Red Planet,a scientific appraisal of thepossibilities of life on the planetMars published in 1953. He alsoserved for a time as London correspondentfor FORTUNE MAGAZINE.
It is strange to be alone, and socold. To be the last man onearth....
The snow drives silently aboutme, ceaselessly, drearily. And Iam isolated in this tiny white, indistinguishablecorner of ablurred world, surely the loneliestcreature in the universe.How many thousands of years isit since I last knew the true companionship?For a long time Ihave been lonely, but there werepeople, creatures of flesh andblood. Now they are gone. Now Ihave not even the stars to keepme company, for they are all lostin an infinity of snow and twilighthere below.
If only I could know how longit has been since first I was imprisonedupon the earth. It cannotmatter now. And yet somevague dissatisfaction, some faintinstinct, asks over and over inmy throbbing ears: What year?What year?
It was in the year 1930 that thegreat thing began in my life.There was then a very great manwho performed operations on hisfellows to compose their vitals—wecalled such men surgeons.John Granden wore the title"Sir" before his name, in indicationof nobility