by Theo Varlet
Aurore, who allowed her father to become absorbed in an animated conversation with Nathan, was alone, and, like me, close enough to hear. She was listening, her nostrils flaring in disdain. A little later, she filled me in: Luce had just demonstrated to the Yank that she was as “American” as he was, by congratulating him on his lunar hoax...
Meanwhile, the officials had disappeared one by one, as had the journalists, with the exception of one last reporter, who was pursuing me doggedly. No one else was left but Nathan, who was deep in conversation with Aurore and her father. Cheyne had just accepted the offer mode by Géo to take them in his car, when an individual came forward whose entrance had passed unobserved.
“Aha! Monsieur Guyon!” whispered my reporter. And, seeing that the name meant nothing to me, he added: “The deputy director of the Sûreté.” And he fell silent, waiting for the policeman to speak.
Monsieur Guyon made no attempt at secrecy He had only waited until now in order to express himself more at his ease. Addressing Aurore and the two Americans, he gave his name and title, and then said:
“Have no fear, Mademoiselle, we’ve known for two days who you are and where you were staying; I only regret that you did not have more confidence in the courtesy of our procedures. Your passport, if you would care to entrust it to me, will be returned to you this evening, properly authorized, at your hotel.
“And you, Messieurs, I regret to inform you that, by order of the Ministry, you have been placed under our surveillance. The government of the Republic does not intend to hold you criminally responsible for the calamitous accidents caused by the Lichen, and ultimately resulting from the landing in France of the apparatus constructed and launched by you. Nor will any impediment be placed on your financial activities, so long as they remain within the limits of legality—but an absolutely prohibition has been placed on your carrying out, at the Champ-de-Mars or elsewhere, the astronautical trials whose imminent exhibition you have announced. To facilitate your respect for that ordinance, I warn you that Rocket MG-17—which is to say, the crates that contain it, sent from Cassis by Dr. Alburtin, have been seized at the Gare de Paris-P.L.M. and placed in sequestration. They will be at your disposal again on the day when you leave French territory. Mademoiselle, Messieurs, I have the honor...”
Although he spoke French badly, the Yank obviously understood it better. He replied to the policeman with a mocking bow, while Aurore and her father seemed reconciled to the inevitability, and gave a definitive acquiescence to Nathan, who seemed triumphant. I became anxious. What decision had provoked this measure on the part of the police?
The English sentence that Cheyne addressed to the father and daughter between two mastications of his chewing gum had a tone of cold humor, and I remained in doubt as to whether he meant what he said even after the obliging Géo had given me a translation.
“He said: ‘Come on—after this, the wisest thing to do is to return to America,’”
Nevertheless, the Yank allowed himself to be guided to the turbo, in which we took our places. Nathan accompanied Aurore and Oswald as far as the car-door, and left them with a last: “Until this evening, then,” in order to return to his own car.
Géo gripped the steering-wheel as if he were holding our fate in his hands and beneath the acceleration-pedal. At the airport gate, however, the crowd, which had been compact ten minutes earlier, shouting and leaping up and down on the roofs of the hangars, was reduced to a single line of obstinate curiosity-seekers, and the Republican Guardsmen watching the entrances did not have to protect our flight against the slightest attempted hostility. Had the demonstration taken place prematurely, during the passage of some automobile carrying official personages, mistaken for the Americans? Or had the consumption at the little carts of the cheap and succulent zebi assuaged the sentiments of the laid-off Metro and tramway employees? I don’t know. In any case, there were confused cheers, saluting indistinct names—I thought I heard “Hurrah for Madame Curie!” addressed to Luce or Aurore—which our car received at the exit, as it plunged through the gateway and headed for Paris at top speed along the Route de Flandre.
Fifteen minutes later, after only one brief breakdown and without ten words being pronounced inside the car, it stopped in front of the Hôtel Métropole. Aurore, her father and Cheyne got out, and the last—named, with a “Thank you very much” and a conclusive handshake, demonstrated his firm desire not to be escorted any further. Aurore was just able to whisper to me: “I’ll try to come to your apartment tomorrow; in any case, phone me at 9 a.m. before I go out.”
I was about to get out too, but Géo, before returning with Luce to the Rue Legendre, undertook to drive me as far as the bottom of the Caulaincourt steps. During the brief journey, I had the further benefit of Luce’s reflections.
“You’re a pet, Tonton, for introducing me to your model and her fiancé. I’ll pay you back. What a marvelous fellow that Cheyne is! A true American, that one, not like that old walnut Oswald, and quite different from his fiancée. With him and Rosenkrantz, we’re going to do some first-rate business. All the same, that was a reception that clearly demonstrates the eternal foolishness of the French. Why be so chivalrous? If this had happened in America and the rocket-launchers had been French, you can be sure that they’d have been made to pay the injured parties—them or the government—a few million dollars in damages.”
XII. France Under National Proscription
I spent a miserable evening in my studio, not wanting to go any further than the small local restaurant where I put on an appearance of dining. I wallowed in melancholy, while sorting out various drawings, sketches and studies. Certainly, I understood that Aurore felt bound to spend at least that first evening with her father, and that neither he nor Cheyne had the slightest desire for my presence, but would that situation last? Had I been virtually eliminated from Aurore’s life, even if she remained in Paris for a little longer? What if Cheyne put his idea of returning to America into practice? Would I have any further opportunity to talk to her? To profit from her confession? Did she regret that confession to the extent of avoiding me as much as possible from now on?
After prolonged insomnia, during which I turned various plans over and over in my mind, the least crazy of which, again, was to follow the trio to America. I ended up falling into an agitated sleep filled with ominous dreams.
Telephone her at 9 a.m.? But waiting at home for that time to come seemed intolerable as soon as I got up at dawn. As soon as I was dressed, at 7:30, I went downstairs. As I passed the lodge I saw Monsieur and Madame Taquet at table, with two plates of the quivering ruby jelly of the edible lichen: the zebi brought back the previous day by the power-worker on leave, from is excursion to the Eiffel Tower. The portion that Madame was consuming by the spoonful was no less copious than her husband’s.
Under the pretext of collecting my post, I put my head around the door.
“No letters for me?”
“No, Monsieur Delvart. The postman hasn’t been past yet—but here’s your Matin.”
I affected envy of her plate. “Bon appetit!” I laughed discreetly. “So it’s not so bad, the zebi? You’ve come round, I see.”
“You have to take advantage of it while it’s fresh, Monsieur Delvart; it will go off between now and this evening, and my husband brought back nearly a kilo. That saves money in a household…especially at present, while he’s only on half-pay…and who knows how long it will last?”
Without bothering to ask what might not last—the savings, the zebi, the half-pay or the present situation—I made myself scarce.
At the shop forming the corner of the Rue du Mont-Cenis and the Rue du Chevalier-de-la-Barre I bought a couple more newspapers and, going past Sacré-Coeur, went to install myself on a bench on the edge of the square, where a few of the local children were already playing, before the giant panorama of Paris...
FRANCE PUT UNDER A BAN BY AMERICA
My heart beat hopefully…for in that case, there was n
o longer any question for Cheyne or Aurore of crossing the Atlantic. I read the article in the Journal avidly.
The grave peril created in Paris and in France by the brutal extension of the Xenobiota has incited America to take precautionary measures against a possible contagion of the scourge by means of an excessive and unprecedented protectionism. A decree by President Hogg, issued from the White House yesterday and taking executive effect from today, October 22, suspends maritime communication with France. Under the terms of his decree, every liner, cargo-vessel or other ship originating from a port in France or having, in the course of its voyage, called at a French port, will be forbidden access to American ports. As a direct consequence, the only vessels, passenger-carrying or otherwise, authorized to leave America for destinations in France are those making return journeys. The Prohibition police, with its special armed fleet, will be responsible for the strict enforcement of the decree.
This decree, which so manifestly violates the rules in international law, and against which the head of the French government is raising a vigorous protest, reveals an astonishing alarm in a population as phlegmatic and well-balanced at that of the United States. It appears that the cold reasoning that is severing communications with France in this manner is clearly abusive. In the course of a five- or six-day crossing, the presence of the Lichen aboard the most rapid transatlantic vessel would have time to become evident. In consequence, it would be sufficient to establish a special sanitary inspection on arrival at an American port...
Among other consequences of this draconian measure, which will have a seriously injurious effect on our shipping companies and our great transatlantic ports of Brest, Cherbourg and Le Havre, as well as tourism, it is necessary to note that exports of American oil to France will cease at a stroke, since the tankers, if they cross the Atlantic and disembark their merchandise here, will be rendered incapable of returning to their home ports. There is no need to elaborate on the unfortunate results that this suppression of American oil imports might have at this point in time, when our need for that substance is increasing considerably, in consequence of the damage suffered by electrical lighting...
Desirous, on the other hand, of avoiding in the United States any risk of an adventure similar to that to which France is subject, President Hogg, by means of a complementary decree, has forbidden the preparation of any astronautical flight, the initiation or fabrication of any engine capable of crossing the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere. As a first application, this decree requires the confiscation of the laboratory of Monsieur Oswald Lescure and the astronautical factories of the Moon Gold Company, with the material that they contain. “All the gold nuggets that an expedition of this sort might bring back from the Moon,” declares M. Hogg, among the considerations that motivated his decree, “will not compensate for the danger of possible causes of disturbance for our civilization being brought back from interplanetary space at the same time, of which the scourge of the Xenobiota in France suffices to give us a redoubtable idea…and, in addition to the Xenobiota, who knows what other unknown and even more terrible perils interplanetary space might hold in store for us?”
Let us hasten to add that similar prudent measures have also been taken in France. The American astronauts will not find here the facilities that are henceforth refused to them in their own country to realize their deadly experiments. An identical prohibition has been formulated, and communicated on their arrival at Le Bourget to Messrs. Oswald Lescure and Lendor J. Cheyne by Monsieur Guyon, deputy director of the Sûreté...
The example of the United States has been immediately followed by a number of other countries, the list of which is increasing hourly. At the time of going to press, we can cite, as having cut off all material communications with France: Canada, the Republic of Cuba, Mexico, England, Germany, Holland, Italy, Spain, Greece... With the exception of Belgium, which has declared itself associated with our destiny, the interdiction will soon extend to the entire planet. France is being treated as lepers and plague-carriers were in the Middle Ages! An excommunication such as the Church fulminated against heretics and schismatics! It is impossible to estimate, even approximately, the losses that this unprecedented situation will cause to commerce, industry and national life.
My personal concerns were dissolved in a vaster anguish, overriding my simple egotism. I let my gaze wander over Paris, which extended its giant panorama at my feet—the Paris thus isolated, along with France, from the rest of humankind...
Beneath the autumnal sun, jaundiced by the mist, that province of houses and edifices manifested its usual appearance…yes, except for the almost complete absence of smoke from the railway stations: the Gares du Nord et de l’Est to my left, the P.L.M. and the Gare d’ Orléans further away toward the Seine, and to my right, much closer, the lines of the Gare Saint-Lazare.
I resumed my exploration of the papers. Ah, indeed, the railway stations: Numerous cancellations of trains,
The intensive exploitation of railways, as everyone knows, was only rendered possible by the complementary invention of the electric telegraph; conversely, even with the rolling-stock and the tracks in a good state, any impediment to the functioning of the telegraph and electrical signaling implies the impossibility of continuing the regular exploitation. The rupture of telegraph wires and signal controls having multiplied over the last two days on non-electrified networks, the companies have been forced to institute an enormous reduction in the number of trains, carrying passengers as well as goods, the maximum speed of which has been limited to 20 kilometers an hour.
We are, therefore, almost returned to the time of diligences—with the aggravation that we do not even have the resource of using those vanished antique rattletraps. Road transport services designed to increase or supplement the suburban services are still too embryonic to make up for the deficiency of the railways.
And for how many more days will automobiles still be usable? The failure of spark-plugs is multiplying with increasing frequency, and unshielded magnetos are falling victim to irreparable damage...
THE XENOBIOTIC INVASION INCREASES.
The secondary nucleus of infection, with Marseilles at its center, in which the situation is comparable to that in Paris, is gaining ground rapidly along the P.L.M. line. All the coastal towns between Marseilles and Toulon are affected. Further away, the appearance of the Lichen was observed yesterday in Saint-Raphael and Cannes. In the south-eastern region, Aix and Avignon have also been affected, as has Bordeaux in the south-west and Lille and Rouen in the north.
Yes, but what about Paris? On the preceding page, three columns of details of the various accidents, among others, some of a new kind “provoked by a variety of Lichen that eats away insulation and corrodes the metal of electrical conductors”—by virtue of which a number of short-circuits have occurred all over the place, in the open air and in subterranean channels: magnetos, dynamos and motors protected by iron grilles, wire and cables of every sort put out of service. Nothing astonishing in my encountering such sub-headings as DAMAGE TO ELECTRICAL SUBSTATIONS, DAMAGE TO TELEGRAPHIC AND TELEPHONIC CENTERS, but I won’t read all that. Let’s move on.
To summarize the situation in Paris, in addition to the 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th and 17th arrondissements, contaminated since the beginning of the invasion and where its progress has been less serious, the dissemination has reached the neighboring arrondisssements to varying degrees. At every moment, new nuclei of Lichen are observed in quarters not yet affected. One may consider, at present, the entire center of Paris condemned to imminent contamination. On the periphery, the 13th, 15th, 16th, 19th and 20th appear to be mostly spared.
The closest suburbs are affected, especially to the north and the south-west. In addition, nuclei have been found at Argenteuil, Taverny, Bessancourt, Enghien, Villeneuve-Saint-Georges, etc. Saint-Denis, contaminated since the 19th, is almost as badly affected as the capital. Versailles is also contaminated, to a lesser degrees.
The suddenness of the invas
ion of the Lichen and the abruptness of its development have surprised the public Authorities, and thus far, instead of immediate collective action, they have only taken fragmentary and belated action. If the electricity supplies have been cut off in the worst-affected buildings in Paris, it is only to the concierges or proprietors that we owe it, not the Company. The only general measure that has yet been taken by the Préfecture de la Seine has been to prohibit as from today the functioning of luminous advertising and informational displays.
In a few arrondissements, the Commissaires de Police are demanding notification of buildings affected by the Lichen, as with a contagious disease, which will be subjected to disinfection by the municipal services. Alternatively, the streets are being sprayed with solutions of bleach or salt-water, which kill the Xenobiotic spores. All of that, however, cannot have any great effect. Paris has fallen victim to the Lichen, as to a serious disease. If it is to be cured, it is necessary to take energetic and radical measures.
In some of the contaminated towns in the vicinity of Paris, and in the Midi at Toulon, local mayors have taken the step of forbidding the use of electric current in their commune, and that initiative has every chance of protecting the localities in question against the diffusion of the Lichen. The question of following their example to preserve the parts of Paris not yet contaminated, by forbidding the distribution of electric current throughout Paris and the département of the Seine is presently being discussed in the Conseil des Ministres.
Until this decisive measure has been taken by the President of the Conseil, nothing will have been done to safeguard Parisians. It is sufficient for a single lamp to remain lit in a single building to provoke the formation of the lichen around the light-bulb in question and the diffusion of the spores within and without the building by the inhabitants, who transmit it on their persons—but the Conseil dares not take the responsibility for issuing such a decree upon itself, which will be submitted to a vote of the Chambres, convened for October 25—three says hence.