SL Huang - Up and Coming - Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

“Hmph.” Lord Wrottesley peered at the jotted numbers and angles, then shook his head. “That puppy Huffton needs to be taken down a peg. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss Danville.”

Kate slid forward to the edge of her chair. “Does this mean my claim will be upheld?”

Lady Danville, seated in the adjoining wingback, gave her a placid smile. “Patience, my dear. I’m certain Lord Wrottesley does not like to be rushed. He will do what is best.”

“But—”

“Thank you, sir, for your time.” Lady Danville rose. “Certainly you have more pressing concerns than listening to my daughter complain.”

“Perhaps.” He folded Kate’s notes and tapped them against his hand. “I shall review the evidence and share it with the Royal Astronomical Society. Thank you for your visit, ladies.”

Before Kate could protest, her mother hauled her to the doorway. She dropped a quick curtsey to Lord Wrottesley, and then the butler shut the study door in her face.

Kate spent a wretched two days being polite, if not pleasant, to a stream of gentleman callers. None of them were the least bit interested in discussing any type of science, let alone astronomy, and several of them looked faintly horrified that she would broach the subject at all.

It was worth it, though, when she received the letter bearing the seal of the Royal Society, confirming that she, Kate Danville, was credited with the discovery of what would henceforth be known as Miss Danville’s Comet.

Throughout the following week, the mote in the sky grew brighter. First it matched, then overtook, the light of the stars, until it was visible during the day as well as searing the night. Her comet went from being a source of mild speculation to casting a worrisome light over the population of London. Reports soon came in that the comet was affecting every corner of the British Empire.

Local uprisings, raving prophets, and strange tides were reported regularly in the newspapers, along with sensationalized speculation: the comet would smash into London and devastate the country—nay, the entire world, it was not a comet at all but a vehicle bearing explorers from the stars, the end times were nigh and everyone might as well drink and make merry while they still could. Some took this as a call to rampage about the streets, causing an increasing number of clashes between unruly members of the populace and the constabulary.

Queen Victoria issued a half dozen regal reassurances—none of which were taken to heart. It was noted that she and Prince Albert sent their children up to Scotland with a coterie of Royal Nannies, prompting an exodus of nobly-born sons and daughters to the countryside.

Kate, however, refused to go.

“Mother, I’m seventeen, not a child. And I’ve been invited to court to speak with the queen on Thursday afternoon. Surely you would not deprive me of such a triumph?”

Social standing won over familial safety, and Kate was allowed to remain in an increasingly turbulent London.

By Wednesday, the Royal Society astronomers confirmed that the celestial object was, indeed, on a trajectory toward London. They were no longer calling it a comet, however, as it was behaving in a rather perplexing—some might say frightening—manner. The astronomer’s calculations suggested that the object was under its own power, able to make course and speed adjustments.

Kate had to agree that they appeared to be correct, based on her own observations. In addition, the object grew closer every hour, until it was a looming brightness over the country. Speculation exploded, and apprehension turned to panic as soldiers began to filter into London. The queen exhorted her subjects to remain calm, and expressed her approval of those who chose to carry on with their daily lives.

Handbills were posted at every corner, bearing Queen Victoria’s profile and the words, “Nothing is certain, except that We will meet this Challenge with Fortitude, Grace, and the Might of God and Empire behind Us. Stay strong and true, Loyal Subjects, and fear not.”

Kate’s original euphoria at discovering the comet had curdled to an odd mix of pride and guilt. In a way, she felt responsible for whatever was about to happen.

If she had not first identified that speck in the sky, would it have changed its course? Had the act of observing its approach made its arrival inevitable? Was the Empire, perhaps the entire earth, doomed?

In a brave attempt at normalcy, the queen and prince continued to keep their court hours at Buckingham Palace. The Prime Minister and most of the peers still in London spent their time cloistered in Parliament, arguing over what course to pursue.

Thursday dawned bright, with the strange metallic light filtering over the city, and the Danville household made ready for Kate’s appearance at court.

“Must you tie my laces so tightly?” Kate asked the maid. “I can scarcely breathe.”

“Not every day you’re invited to the palace, Miss.” Still, the woman left off trying to constrict Kate’s lungs beyond bearing, and fetched the rose muslin day dress from the wardrobe.

An hour later, appropriately garbed and coiffed and bejeweled, Kate and her mother stepped into their carriage. The footman folded up the steps and closed the door, and the driver set out for the palace. Despite the well-sprung seats, every jolt over the cobblestones sent a jab through Kate. She tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but there was little to be seen. All the fine shops were closed up, and only a few dandies roamed the streets instead of the cream of Society going about their business. Most of the upper crust had departed London for their country estates.

“Will the looting spread this far?” Kate asked her mother.

“Of course not. The rabble knows better than to set foot in Mayfair.”

Despite the clipped assurance in Lady Danville’s tone, Kate could not help noticing that her mother’s gloved fingers were laced tightly together in her lap.

“Do you think Parliament has come up with a plan?”

Lady Danville sniffed. “According to your father, nothing but dithering is being accomplished. At least there are plenty of soldiers about. Don’t fret, darling. Everything shall turn out for the best. I have utmost faith in the queen.”

Kate was not convinced the queen could, by pure force of royal will, keep a meteor from smashing London to smithereens. Yet what else could they do but persevere?

The approach to Buckingham Palace was crowded with people. Some were shouting for the queen and God to save them, some were exhorting the throng to rush the gates, while others held signs proclaiming the world’s imminent destruction. Overhead, the bright sphere in the sky appeared to be growing larger.

With the aid of a dozen red-coated soldiers, the carriage managed to push past the press of bodies and through the well-guarded iron gates of the palace. Behind them, Kate heard the crowd murmuring like a restless creature ready to leap from its kennel.

A shout and the crack of a gunshot made both Kate and her mother jump. Kate’s heartbeat thudded in her chest, and Lady Danville pushed open the window.

“What is happening?” she demanded, her voice shrill.

A soldier jumped up, catching the side of the carriage, and the vehicle rocked slightly from his weight.

“Rest easy, ladies,” he said. “The rabble tried to rush forward, but so far shots fired into the air are keeping them back. We’ll have you to the door in a trice.”

Lady Danville nodded at him, then patted nervously at her hair. The gates shut behind them with a clang that Kate did not find as reassuring as she ought.

Their driver pulled the carriage up before the arched entry, and the footman handed Lady Danville and Kate out. Guards stood impassively on either side of the doors, ignoring the strange light overhead and the cries of the crowd.