by Earl
V.
THE Geneva Conference of 1940.
The League of Nations organization took preliminary matters in hand. Thousands of delegates, representing every prominent nation of Earth, were recorded and assigned living quarters. Even the smaller, little-heard-of countries and dependencies sent delegates. They, in fact, were eager to be represented. If the Benefactor stood by his intimated ideals, they would not be the losers. The world had been aroused—that fact was apparent.
The first day of the conference was disappointing—from a newspaper’s point of view. At three o’clock in the afternoon the dull-white, tapered spheroid of the Benefactor dropped from the clouds. It positioned itself over the League of Nations hall. Then from it came a giant radio voice. The officials, prepared for this, had had suitable loudspeakers distributed throughout the room.
“Delegates of Earth’s nations! The Benefactor greets you! In the past three weeks I have demonstrated my invincible right to be a power above all powers. I have outlawed war—and I shall not rest till all war machinery is completely abandoned or destroyed. In my previous short speeches I have hinted at a new order. I have promised world betterment. That cannot be done till war is put behind us as a relic of a misguided past.
“Therefore, to-morrow this conference will lay its first plans to completely demobilize Earth. I shall be here again at three o’clock. For the rest of this day, you delegates may make any preparations necessary for to-morrow’s work.”
That was all. In keeping with his previous activity, the Benefactor had spoken only the words necessary to carry his point. It was no oratory, no campaigning, no flowery speech to stir emotion. Yet every word sank into the listener’s brain like flaming meteors into a lake. They were words to be pondered, to be respected.
The second day of the conference left the world gasping. The Benefactor, from high in the air, delivered his first long speech. For three hours he spoke, his thunderous voice booming over the delegates like a god’s voice. Every one who heard was amazed—not at the portent of his speech alone, but at the surprising lucidity of his statements. Statesmen, prepared to hear the idealistic frothings of a Utopist, hung their jaws at the searching clarity of the speech. No idealist’s vain rantings, this!
In substance, the speech outlined a vast but comprehensive program of disarmament. A central committee was to be elected to superintend details. The members to be elected from among the delegates, and no more than one member from a country. They were to meet a week from then in person with the Benefactor, to begin their work—the work of demobilization. And it was to be over in a month!
“I am back of this,” concluded the Benefactor, “with all my power. The Disarmament Committee is to be supreme over any national government.
Any government resisting must answer to me. I will not take human life, but I will put an immediate stop to any resistance. Demobilization of Earth’s total war machinery will begin everywhere on the world at once. A month from now it will be over. Then, people of Earth, will begin the New Order!”
Renolf spent the weeks between meetings searching through a vast pile of books which he had previously gathered. Books full of names; “Who’s Who”; memberships of societies, fraternities, nation-wide and world-wide organizations. Their members were the cream of Earth’s intellectual citizenry. Especially was there a preponderance of scientific societies.
Dora, her head swimming from typewritten listings of names, names, names, was amazed at Renolf’s tremendous vitality and persistence. She went reeling to bed, usually at his insistence. He would be up out of bed before her, poring again through the books.
Sometimes she felt that it was not one man doing what he was doing. It was ten men—ten men in one. Sometimes she would have a spare minute to look at him. Was it Vincent she saw? A youthful face reflecting incredible wisdom. No, not Vincent, not her Vincent—this was another man, a creation of her father’s vital research, an enlarged portion of human intelligence, a supreme giant among pygmies.
AT the meeting of the Disarmament Committee, the world looked for the first time on the mysterious Benefactor. If they had felt awe at his voice, his presence struck them like a blow. He radiated a subtle power and confidence that was inhuman. Despite his human appearance, it began to be whispered about that he was an extra-terrestrial being. His hat did not quite conceal a leather headband with little metal boxes at the sides of his head. About his middle was a broad belt with a series of inclosed metal cases in front and back.
Completely dominating the gathering, the Benefactor outlined in detail the demobilization program. The committee, now a dictatorial body, was to issue mandates to every armed nation or community. Guns and cannon were to be melted down. Airplanes, trucks, tanks, were to be converted into commercial use. And so on. The committee was empowered to appoint suitable deputies in every region of Earth. But the Benefactor was to pass upon all appointments, and on all methods of procedure.
“But suppose,” asked one delegate finally, when the Benefactor called for open-floor discussion, “suppose the world, as one, refuses to disarm! What then?”
The Benefactor smiled shortly. “I leave that to the masses. Those who at the beating of drums must leave home and peace and fight a war that means nothing to them. Let a government refuse to disarm when its citizenry sees, at last, a warless world!”
It was an amazing point of view, especially to men of politics and government. Thousands of men, hearing this by world-wide broadcast, shook their heads dubiously. But millions of people, those who really were the world, leaped to their feet, tears of gratitude in their eyes that at last they had a true champion for their right to live in peace.
It was just before the conference ended that the inevitable happened. There was the sharp crack of pistol shots. A wild-eyed man stood with the smoking gun empty in his hands. Ten feet from him, on the speakers’ stage, was his target. A man high in diplomatic circles, he had surreptitiously threaded his way forward during the eager crowding around the platform.
He looked now dumbly, first at his emptied gun, then toward the man at whom he had shot. But the Benefactor, target of a dozen heavy automatic slugs, smiled at him. The would-be assassin was led away in a great silence. The Benefactor spoke, pointing to the belt around his waist and the metal cases. “I am not harmed. I am protected by an invisible screen that turns aside material objects, just as my ship is. Only my hands are free. But you cannot assassinate me by shooting or stabbing my hands!”
He walked away in a turmoil of excited buzzing.
AND AGAIN the inevitable happened. Inevitable because human nature does not accept, until forced to, things it has been told. Russia refused to disarm. A dictatorial government kept its rigid leash on its subjects and defied the Benefactor. Troops were immediately marched borderward to resist invasion. The Russian diplomats rubbed hands in glee. He, the Benefactor, had vowed not to destroy human life. How then could he defeat their armies?
They rubbed their hands in glee only a few hours. Then their hands trembled so that they could not be rubbed. For reports came in that every army of theirs had been stricken with cramps. Cramps? Something like it. All the soldiers in any one unit had suddenly fallen to the ground. Then they had doubled up, moaning. They had recovered in a few hours. Having no more fight in them, at the next town they had meekly surrendered their arms to deputies of the Disarmament Committee. Russia was stripped of her lethal weapons just as quickly as all other nations.
Renolf permitted himself a short chuckle. He fondled the handle of his gas-collapser projector. “You see,” he said to Dora, as their ship sped away after the last of the Russian armies had been taken care of, “a man whose lungs suddenly squeeze together as though having been struck in the chest by a pile driver, is in no condition to keep marching to the battlefield!”
The day before the tempestuous month of Earth’s demobilization was over, Renolf summarized for Dora the state of affairs.
“We have succeeded in the first part of
our program. Step One has been completed. Earth is unarmed, unable to shed its own blood. At the same time, we, as the Benefactor, have gained unquestioned control of government. The Benefactor is recognized as an invincible power.
“Now, as I’ve mentioned before, Step Two is to begin a campaign of world betterment. But not only that. We must also gain the good will of Earth’s vast hordes. What are governments, dictators, ruling powers after all? Artificial things set up to be knocked down sooner or later. The abiding thing, the everlasting thing, is—humanity! We must convince humanity, as a whole, that the Benefactor is for them, working for their good. Perhaps a good part of humanity already has faith in the Benefactor. But not until all are sided with us can we forge ahead.
“It is a titanic program. And it will produce titanic results. Results that will profoundly affect the future of mankind on this Earth. A world united—in brotherhood! No longer segregated, partitioned, antagonistic, jealous—but unified in purpose and aim!”
Dora, listening, thrilled to Renolf’s use of the pronoun “we.” In the past month he had come to refer to everything as “our.” But it was as nothing to the thrill of having him suddenly tear off his headband and ask, in his normal, nonsuper, voice: “Well, darling girl, how have I done?”
Almost every day he had done that, but the ecstasy was always new to the girl. The ecstasy of clinging to him, kissing him, answering him: “Splendidly, Vince! Just as you should have!”
Then, because the super-Renolf drove him so strenuously, there was always his sudden yawn, the tired droop of his eyes, and he would dash off to bed. But this day before the finale of Earth’s complete frisking, he lingered to add a few words.
“Dora, it’s going great! But lord! The task left for us yet! And till that task is done, loved one, we must go on as we have. The Benefactor, my superself, would not have it otherwise. And he has dominated me as fully as he has dominated Earth.”
“But, Vince!” protested the girl floutingly, in a tone of voice she would not have dared use to the super-Renolf. “How long will that take? How long must you and I wait before the Benefactor will let us—get married?”
Vincent shook his head slowly. “Hard telling. Even he does not know that. As a good guess, at least three years.”
“Three years!” Dora repeated in dismay. She looked in her lover’s eyes, but he turned away.
At the door, he spoke over his shoulder: “Just let’s pretend that we are nothing to each other. You are my secretary. It will be easier that way, won’t it?”
The girl nodded dumbly.
VI.
THOSE THREE YEARS brought a great change over Earth. Traditionally a world of much unhappiness, bloodshed, and misadjustment, it heaved mightily; and the leopard changed its spots. Under the leadership of a superman, it corrected its most glaring faults. There had been resistance at first. Human nature instinctively opposes alteration. The Benefactor had had to exercise his program under threat at first. He had had to harp continuously that there was no choice. Willy-nilly, the Earth must do as he bid.
Then, gradually, there had built around him a nucleus of intellectual savants who saw the trend of his epochal work. The group had grown. From the lists of the intelligentsia compiled by Dora and himself, the Benefactor had conscripted brilliant minds to his side. They came, they saw, and they were conquered. Not by the terrific might of the Benefactor, but by his ideals—ideals that were practical.
Not many months after the disarmament, the Benefactor had welded his followers into an overseeing body. Like a perfect machine, it began its work. Several nations had been commandeered to aid materially. The rest had voluntarily subscribed.
That was the first sign of success. Before the three years had passed, national identity had lost itself in the new world spirit. And when he felt they were ready for it, the Benefactor blew the dust from his laboratory notebooks and spread among humanity a myriad of blessings—material blessings that worked hand in hand with the new world spirit to make life for all, even the lowliest, saner and happier.
The Benefactor gave his all. He had pushed the world ahead of what it would have been. He led the way to greater things. Gave his all—except two things.
One was the secret of his genius. Second was intra-atomic power. The first he withheld, fearing other men, given his godlike power, might become despotic and plunge the world into chaos. Dr. Hartwell had warned him against that. The second he kept secret, because with it man could leave the Earth and soar into the interplanetary voids.
“They are not ready for it,” explained Renolf to Dora. “The adjustment to the New Order is still going on, will go on for perhaps generations. To suddenly open the way to other worlds would be disastrous—like a child, learning his lessons, suddenly given a magic vehicle with which it may go to fairyland. The lessons would be promptly dropped, with not very wholesome results.”
IT WAS 1943, and the third anniversary of the Geneva Conference.
The Benefactor, now universally accepted in name, stood before a select group of Earth’s new leaders. In that same hall where he had first commanded the disarmament of a world, he stood before thousands of faces. Three years ago those faces had been frankly skeptical, even hostile. Had been skeptical of this self-named dictator’s ability to change a world for the better. But now they were eager faces, and openly reverent.
“People of Earth!” began the Benefactor, his voice vibrating into a microphone that would carry his words to every nook of the world. “Three years ago the Benefactor came before the people of Earth, promising a New Order. With an irresistible power at hand, he was able to force himself upon the scene and dictate as he wished. But he was vowed to better Earth, and not plunder it for his own glorification. I leave it to you that he has not betrayed his trust.”
A mighty roar of applause wept up from the ocean of faces. And the unheard adulation of millions of listeners seemed to throb through the atmosphere. For a moment Renolf—even the super-Renolf—felt his heart beat in a thrill of ecstasy. Then he went on, calmly:
“But now the time has come when I, having accomplished my aim through force, must relinquish the reins. I have been a veritable dictator. Such I do not wish to remain. Forceful rule is a thing of the past. But I am not afraid to leave the Earth to itself now. Welded into one unit, this world is sufficient unto itself. You have a governing system that should withstand any of the unforeseen blows of fate. I leave you, people of Earth, to your own destiny!” Renolf left amid a deafening applause, and with his leaving the Benefactor disappeared from human affairs. Once more Earth was to hear of the Benefactor, but under circumstances strange indeed——
IN their mountain home, Vincent and Dora faced one another. Renolf removed his headband. His young and handsome face lost the superinduced look of great wisdom with its removal. He was just a man, full of life and vigor. He suddenly pulled her to him in silent adoration.
Dora struggled out of his arms. “What do you want?”
“Come on, darling, we’re going to get married!” Vincent cried joyfully. “Quietly, secretly. Some place where no one will suspect who we are. You heard my speech of farewell, didn’t you? The Benefactor’s work is over. We’re free!”
But Dora’s face did not light up in joy. She stood there woodenly. Then she arched her brows superciliously. “And who said I would marry you?”
“Why—why—Dora! What’s this all about?” Vincent made an instinctive gesture to his forehead to make sure the headband was off. “Surely you aren’t serious! What—what——”
Dora smiled disdainfully. “Well, after all, you haven’t asked me yet!”
“Asked you!” repeated Vincent dumbly.
“Yes, it’s customary for a man to ask a girl if she will marry him. Do you think just because you’ve been with your world reforming for so long, you can just grab my hand and rush me to a minister? Why, you haven’t even courted me!”
Quite suddenly Vincent saw a twinkle of amusement in Dora’s eye. She turned
quickly, hiding it, but it was too late. Next moment she was crushed in his strong arms.
“Will you marry me then?”
The girl’s answering articulation was mostly a sob.
A few minutes later they sat down. “I guess I’ll make a decent husband at that,” said Vincent. “Even though I have been a superman. And, darling, I’ve thought of a splendid sort of honeymoon.”
“What, Vince?”
“We’ll go out among the stars! Our ship is a space ship, you know. I had it built with that original purpose in mind. There are mysteries out there—mysteries that tortured me more than once as the super-Renolf. The menace that has impinged itself many times on my mind while I wore the headband—what and where is it? Why is Mars a dead world? Why is all the solar system dead except Earth? Because other civilizations must have discovered intra-atomic power at some time or another. Why, then, have they never visited Earth? Why do they not visit Earth now, if they are not all dead! Such mysteries remain to be solved in the void.”
“What a honeymoon!” interposed the girl pragmatically. “Searching for lost civilizations on dead worlds!”
“But we shall be all alone, more alone than any couple has ever been. And that is the epitome of honeymoons, isn’t it, loved one?”
“Yes, Vince!” Dora sighed in affirmation.
VII.
SATURN, ringed beauty of space, loomed already the size of a rosy sun. For a month their ship, christened the Comet, had flung away from Earth. With atomic propulsors flaming powerfully, leaving behind an incredible streamer of glowing sparks, it must have indeed resembled its namesake. Like an arrow of Sun fire, it plunged with mad speed through the interplanetary void.
Man’s first journey in the unknown ether lanes!