Number 87

by Harrington Hext

  The aviator had apparently been stabbed twice — in the breast and thigh; but there was no more to be learned from his end, and the light it threw upon the forces responsible for the tragedy was implicit rather than direct.

  Men mourned the musician and artist; but were not sorry that the mistaken patriot and his aggressive personality had disappeared. They gave Lorenzo Poglaici a national funeral, and his own Government, relieved of his influence and magnetic powers, controlled his adherents and quickly settled the questions at difference in Jugo-Slavia’s favor.

  Paul Strossmayer, who returned to England a week after his famous enemy’s destruction, made no attempt to conceal immense satisfaction at the sudden turn of affairs. Poglaici’s death gave him keen gratification, while he declared himself to be wholly ignorant of the invisible and unknown forces brought into operation for this purpose.

  “I neither know what slew him, or who directed the assassination,” he assured us. “But this I know — that he found himself opposed by one who was stronger, swifter and far better equipped than himself. And those who reported that Poglaici was unarmed were mistaken. I myself was among those who saw him and examined his machine on the morning after his death. The error arose from finding no weapon where he fell; but subsequent search over the ground discovered a revolver of which four barrels had been discharged. That it was a presentation weapon and belonged to the dead man many, who had already seen it, were able to testify.”

  “He put up a fight, then?” asked Medland.

  “Certainly he did.”

  “Yet the creature got to close quarters somehow and stabbed him as its other victims were stabbed.”

  “It pleases you still to imagine some aërial monster,” answered Strossmayer, “but surely no intelligent man can longer hold to that.”

  “Be it what is is, Jugo-Slavia owes it a debt of thanks,” suggested Leon Jacobs and the other agreed.

  “I should be only too glad if it lay in our power to repay that debt,” he replied. “The new energy has been so far exerted in a manner that all who trust to constitutional government must applaud. This last manifestation was a very timely one — both for us and Poglaici’s own country. His death promises to dissolve our difficulties and their embarrassments.”

  “The terrific thing is this,” said Jack Smith. “It is now proved to the satisfaction, or dissatisfaction, of Europe, that a shrewd and powerful intelligence is critically watching human affairs and world movements. One must, I suppose, dismiss the idea that this intelligence comes from anywhere but the earth itself; but, in any case, its intellect can appreciate events, and it has channels of ordinary knowledge like the rest of us. A living thing from another planet could only know all that this destructive force knows by communion with mankind; and seeing its line of direct action is in a sense orderly and consistent and conservative, then it follows that there need be no secrecy, for if it were proclaimed and discovered, it could still count upon a very large measure of approval and support.”

  “That is so,” admitted Bishop Blore, “and while, ethically, all direct action of a minority, whatever its opinions, is abominable, yet there can be no doubt that in these cases the energy, or whatever you like to call it, has acted in a manner many might approve, and destroyed the activities of certain other energies represented by men, who were viewed with large distrust and dislike.”

  Strossmayer heartily concurred.

  “Those who think as we do must grant the force has been applied in no sense malignantly,” he declared. “Whatever the intelligence behind it, these events prove that it is a superior intelligence, cautious, restrained and averse to any extremes of thought.”

  Sir Bruce, who seldom agreed with the Jugo-Slav, conceded the value of this argument.

  “I, for myself, agree with you,” he said. “Not long since I and those who think with me, listened with astonishment and grief to a lecture delivered before the Society of Synthetic Dyers in this country. One anticipated a peaceful and encouraging harangue, devoted entirely to progress and the advancement of industrial prosperity. But what did we hear? That the war was based on German chemistry; and that only our shameful backwardness in science prevented the recent awful conflict from being over in three months. The speaker warned his audience that the next war would depend entirely on toxic substances and that the nation most richly endowed with toxic substances would win it. We went for expert advice upon the means to advance human welfare, not warfare; instead we learned that future prosperity depends on poison gas, and are directed to devote our genius to its perfection.”

  “How does that bear upon the unknown?” asked Strossmayer.

  “The unknown,” answered Sir Bruce, “has that which banishes these foul ambitions and renders them of no account. And if this secret power can prove to civilization that it is actuated by the highest and noblest motives, as we may venture still to hope, then humanity as a whole must recognize in it a savior and not a destroyer.”

  “You are on the side of ‘the Bat’ then, Sir Bruce?” I asked; but he relapsed into his customary silence and left us to pursue the subject.

  “The grand fact seems to be this,” said Jacobs, “that, for good or ill, the control of the world lies on a new plane. For the first time in our history, our teachers and masters are men of science, not philosophers, clerics, or metaphysicians. Science has got the whip hand, and it remains to be seen whether it will prove a humane and beneficent autocrat, or a worse tyrant than the world has yet known.”

  “One would give much to learn the opinions and intentions of those who have obtained this dominion,” added Bishop Blore. “They may be philosophers as well as chemists, Jacobs. They may be men inspired by our highest rules of conduct and possessed of the noblest ideals. And yet one is bound to doubt that before what has already been done; for wise men would be aware that great human movements and the aspiration of millions, but recently lifted by education out of dumb endurance, cannot be swept away with the extinction of a few individuals. The death of leaders will often serve to elevate them into martyrs, and advance, rather than retard, the causes for which they fought.”

  “Very true,” said Jack Smith. “The battle for freedom will continue, and I much doubt whether men of science are in the least competent to take the place of our old teachers and traditional guides. Science has had to fight too long. It would not come into power without a leaven of bitterness in heart and head. Truth is many sided and there are aspects of living truth that Science cannot reconcile with reason and is too apt to undervalue.”

  Paul Strossmayer argued against this opinion, declaring that pure reason and the pursuit of truth qualified men of science to guide the affairs of mankind in a way they had never yet been guided; but I think most of us agreed that the lawyer had the best of it. The matter was left an open question as usual; then, some six weeks later another extraordinary manifestation of power applied against a harmless institution gave substance to Smith’s argument and seemed to indicate that ‘the Bat,’ as most people still preferred to call the unknown energy, was capable of action that possessed no explanation on any human basis of reason, or unreason.

  One speaks of ‘an institution’ and, indeed, the flourishing enterprise now wiped out of existence had become such. The theater as a general term is, of course, an institution, but the entertainment at that time filling the King’s Theater had specially earned the appellation; for a spectacular play was running there, and had been running to crowded and enthusiastic audiences, for the term of three years. There seemed no end to the success of ‘Indian Chutnee’ — a massive and brilliantly mounted spectacle of the East, which depended upon the splendor of its production, the magic of the dresses and the beauty of the music for its achievement, rather than any coherent or dramatic theme. But in a night the King’s was wiped out of existence.

  Moving along a line of former activity the unknown forces attacked bricks and mortar, and at a time when the great building was empty, liberated such a volume of ener
gy upon it that the theater and all it contained was turned to a mountain of dust. Again the force was exquisitely controlled, and despite its immensity, nothing but the doomed house of entertainment suffered. The intelligence behind this weapon would kill a fly as deftly as it could crush a cathedral. And here again, by the attitude he took upon this new manifestation, our foreign member once more gave his detractors an opportunity. Fate seemed to will that, by word or deed, he should be linked in varying degrees of probability with the unknown. That he was in Jugo-Slavia when Lorenzo Poglaici perished appeared proof positive to certain minds, easily made up and already tinged with prejudice against him; but in the affair of the theater, the opinion he expressed could hardly be regarded with any justice as inspired by secret knowledge. Indeed one other, who certainly knew nothing of the matter, had arrived at the same conclusion independently.

  Bishop Blore, who appeared to take a benevolent interest in ‘the Bat,’ and while deploring its actions, argued that they might spring from high motives, was considering this last occurrence, which he declared had gone far to weaken his hopes.

  None, of course, further questioned the certainty that all the unexplained events proceeded from the same source, since chemistry had proved the connection. The Bishop, therefore, spoke under the general assumption.

  “This last outrage shakes me,” he confessed, “for even if we condone what is past, how are we to forgive an act that robs the world of innocent enjoyment and throws five hundred people out of work? No theory of decent conduct, no far-reaching design for the increased happiness of the world, can fit with this insensate act. Nor, am I told, was there anything to annoy anybody in the performance. I never go to the theater and am not in a position to judge, but Jacobs assures me the production was devoid of offence, and only a fanatical objection to all theatrical performances could explain such an action.”

  “It seems isolated,” said I. “It does not fit in with anything that has gone before. There is nothing in common between this assault and the destruction of the Albert Memorial. One cannot explain it on any human values.”

  Already our company began to grow thin, for not a few members of the Club of Friends were about the business of their annual holiday; but Paul Strossmayer happened to be there on this occasion, and it was he who answered me.

  “I believe you are absolutely right, Granger,” he replied. “And what follows? Surely we may agree as to the only possible explanation. Conscious intelligence is, of course, at work, not blind force hurled out of an indifferent sky; but all humanity must be fallible, and, in a word, I believe those who are running this secret of radio-active energy have made a mistake. They are men like ourselves, and on the night when chance destroyed the King’s Theater, somebody blundered. Let us endeavor to find what goes on in the buildings which surround the theater; then we may perhaps judge better of the intended target.”

  He spoke so positively, that neither the bishop nor anybody else was prepared to contradict him. Indeed Bishop Blore accepted this conclusion with considerable satisfaction.

  “For the credit of mankind, I hope you are right,” he said, “and since I am always quick to accept anything to the credit of our noble selves, I will believe that you are right. The explanation is reasonable, though one longs for details and proof that the object of attack was worthy of attack. Indeed there are few things I desire more keenly now-a-days than the explanation of these mysteries. They absorb me. I find my mind preoccupied with them at all manner of inappropriate times. Humanity seems to be on the very verge of some astounding increase of knowledge and, if I have a quarrel with the unknown, it is because this addition to our stock of wisdom is hidden from the race of men. For that no excuse exists.”

  “When the time comes, they will have to face an insulted world and explain themselves; though it will be difficult,” said Medland. “But we may be on a wrong track as I told you before. Coincidence plays a large part in life, and these events, whatever Science may be pleased to think, may yet be proved to spring from different causes for which Science is not responsible.”

  He still clung to his own theory; and time was to prove that, after all, phenomena outside any human knowledge would again intrude upon men’s minds.

  For the present I am only concerned to state that Strossmayer’s suggestion of an accident was partially accepted; but even those who did not doubt that he must be right, judged him adversely upon it, and believed he spoke from inner knowledge denied to the majority of mankind.

  Indeed Jack Smith voiced others as well as himself when he hinted as much.

  A veiled antagonism already existed between them, and their arguments, not on this subject alone, but others, embracing the code of laws on which Jugo-Slavia was to be conducted, often approached acrimony.

  “You know so much, Mr. Strossmayer, that perhaps you know more,” said Smith bluntly on this occasion.

  “It is your mistaken opinion that I do, and I wish you were right,” replied the other warmly and swift to pick up the challenge. “Nothing would afford me greater satisfaction than to declare your constant insinuations were just. If I possessed the secret, it might even give me a little pleasure to offer you practical illustration and proof that I did! Meantime, you, and not only you, continue to entertain the opinion that I lie. But why certain members of this club imagine that I know more of these astounding events than they do, or that I am, so to speak, behind the scenes in the matter, I cannot guess.”

  “I will tell you, then,” answered the lawyer. “You, yourself, are to blame, for you admit that you and your friends in this country, or perhaps I should say your friend — the chemist, Ian Noble — are deeper in the mystery of radio-active elements than anybody else. You have? openly declared that you are on the track of the unknown energy.”

  “What of it?” asked the other. “To be on the track of the energy is not to be on the track of those who are now employing it. We may be nearer to these people than you are; we may presently even discover them, by first discovering the means which they employ; but we are no nearer to understanding their purposes, or measuring their intentions, than yourself. Be reasonable and consider what I gain by the things that are being done.”

  “That is a question easily answered,” replied Smith. “What you gained by the death of Skeat, for example, seems clear. He insulted you here before us all, and you might well have taken means to punish him by death, seeing that in the eyes of your nation an insult demands to be answered, if need be, with blood. Every country has its own code of honor, and I should not blame you if your code demanded a more tremendous retort in such a case than my own. But let that pass. You are out for Jugo-Slavia, first, last and always. Again I do not blame you. But look at facts. You knew that Lorenzo Poglaici was a thorn in the flesh of your people, and doing far greater damage, by his mischievous and romantic nonsense, than sane men could quickly or easily remedy. Obviously you and yours all stood to gain by his removal. And you go to Jugo-Slavia and he is removed. Is it then unreasonable to argue that cause and effect are here apparent? You resent our suspicions; but you cannot deny that they are at least grounded on a pretty solid basis.”

  The other considered before replying. He was not annoyed any longer; but evidently astonished. An element of something almost akin to amusement entered into his expression as he frankly regarded Jack Smith.

  His answer turned away wrath.

  “I stand corrected,” he replied. “I swear to you with all my heart and soul, before the God I recognize, that I have had no hand in these things; but I no longer ask you, or any of your friends, to believe me if you consider such an oath upon my lips insignificant. It is true what you say. Had I been such a man and possessed such a power, I might have used it upon Alexander Skeat, who wounded me with his brutality; and, again, for my country’s good, I might willingly have destroyed my country’s enemy. I will go further and confess I should not have hesitated to do so. I rejoice that it was done, and a step gained thereby to the universal peace for
which we groan. But I did neither of these things, because, though I am now sanguine that I shall live to see the new energy won for Jugo-Slavia, as yet it is not won, at any rate by us.”

  Smith bowed, but declined to leave the difference composed; then Jacobs unfortunately struck in. There was little love lost at any time between him and the lawyer, and now he took Smith to task somewhat sharply.

  “Surely,” he said, “when a man goes so far and answers your baseless suspicions with such good temper and patience, it becomes you, for the credit of your own race, to be decent and conciliatory.”

  But Jack Smith resented his interference and stabbed Leon before he left the room.

  “East will cling to East, of course,” he said. “You are like most alien people who dwell in England, Jacobs. England is only a place to get a good living out of, not a country to love. You have no real kinship with the West; at heart you would rather be against us than with us. You know, as well as I do, the truth of what I say.”

  He was gone before Jacobs had time to reply. Indeed he attempted no reply. The insult really seemed too absurd even to acknowledge, for no more patriotic English Jew than my friend existed. He had been bred and educated in England and, while proud of his own historic nationality, was British in most of his opinions. Unlike many of his race, who have attained to distinction and honor among us, he respected his foster country and had always done so.