Red Star

by Loren R. Graham

  “You sing beautifully, Nella.”

  The girl was not even surprised that the chief engineer knew her name. She answered:

  “Songs make living easier.”

  “With your permission, I should like to come in and visit you,” said Menni.

  “Yes!” she blurted out without hesitation.

  Nella’s fate was sealed.

  When the passion of their caresses had ebbed, she told him all about her love for him. She had known him for a long time. She had first seen him several years ago when he had passed through on his way into the desert where others had remained forever in the embraces of a sandy death. She was only a little girl then, but he inspired her with pride rather than fear, and she began a long wait. A few months later he returned, pale, emaciated, but a victor—what joy! He was taken to his ship in her father’s boat, while she stood with a trembling heart and watched them from the bank. Then she read his book, and of course she realized that everything he was doing now was only the beginning, only the first step. It would be followed by things which he had not yet revealed to anyone but which he had long since pondered and firmly decided upon.

  In the darkness of the night Nella could not see the first expression of happy surprise on Menni’s face darken into a heavy shadow. But she could sense the strange immobility of his body and fell silent. Menni thought intensely for a long while. Finally he said:

  “Forgive me, Nella. I was mistaken. I did not know you. You are worth infinitely more than I can ever give you. If it were possible for me to join my life to the life of another, I would not want anyone but you, Nella. But you have guessed the truth. I have taken upon myself tasks which exceed anything man has ever attempted before. I can expect enormous obstacles and a bitter struggle on the road to their fulfillment. I have hardly taken the first step, and already the forces of hatred have begun honing their weapons. To overcome everything and be stopped by nothing I must be absolutely free, totally invulnerable . . . Nella! Only he who is alone is invulnerable in battle.”

  His voice underwent an odd change, as if he were attempting to stifle pain. Nella answered him:

  “Don’t be afraid, don’t be sorry about anything. I need nothing. I knew, of course, that it would be like this, and even a moment ago I felt it was all just a dream.”

  Again they fell silent. Menni’s kisses became tender, almost respectful.

  “Sing me a song, Nella.”

  The night and all of nature seemed to be listening to her song. It told of a girl who heeded no one, but gave everything to her beloved. The old melody breathed a feeling that was as deep and clear as the sky and as powerful as Fate.

  Menni left before dawn, never to return again.

  For a long time afterward no one saw Nella or heard her singing. Then she again appeared with her work at the window, somewhat pale and with a new expression of serene and confident expectation on her face. She sang her songs very softly at dusk and at night, as if she did not want anyone to hear them. One of these songs was new; Nella sang it more often yet more softly than the others. Its lyrics ran something like this:

  Wondrous the secret I bear deep within . . .

  Alone, yet at once I am two!

  Deep in my body there quickens again

  The happiness fate struck and slew.

  A tiny little flower in first budding bloom,

  A star in the dark cloud on high,

  A marvelous moth in its humble cocoon,

  A promise of sunlight and life . . .

  Come unto me, little one, my yearning burns bright.

  Ah, the wait of these cruelly long days!

  The first shining rays of life’s faint dawning light

  Will I greet with my fond loving gaze.

  My darling, I feel you are restless today

  By the twitch of your tiny wee feet.

  What sight of the future has darkened your gaze

  And broken your slumber so sweet?

  I know by the strain of your thrust to be free

  That the fruit of my womb is a boy.

  A warrior is what you are destined to be,

  My genius unseen, my one joy!

  Like your father a warrior, mighty and bold

  To the warrior’s call you’ll stand true.

  But the chill in his heart and the pride in his soul

  Will never be known unto you.

  His will is of iron, his thoughts are of steel,

  His better he has yet to know.

  But his heart is of ice, no pain does it feel

  For the creatures that Fate has brought low.

  The soul of the woman he loved for a day

  Pines empty, forgotten, alone.

  The tears of the wretches cast into the fray

  Warm not his heart made of stone.

  Like him you will harness the wind and its might,

  But heed that you too are a man.

  Sleep, little one, my secret delight,

  As your first cradle rocks gently on.

  Days, nights, weeks passed. Arri arrived unexpectedly just before the beginning of the nocturnal rains. He was dressed like a worker from the capital and seemed much older than before. Nella said to him:

  “You came at the right time, Arri. Take me away from here.”

  He replied: “I sensed that you needed me. We will go together to Centropolis.”

  A few weeks later the little old house was sold. Arri and Nella boarded a ship and left their native Libya forever.

  PART I

  1. The Great Project

  Menni’s star had risen high. Faith is born of miracles, and the miracle had been worked. The mighty torrent of waters from the Mare Australe rushed along the channel carved by the hand of man, along the channel blasted through the mountains by the will of man. And proud steamships began sailing across the sands of the ancient desert. The clouds shaded and the rains watered the parched soil, which had not known such bliss for a hundred thousand years. The Kingdom of Silence was invaded by the childish babble of brooks, and brightly colored grasses entered into battle with the tawny gray dust of the past. The elements had been dealt a tremendous blow, and it began to seem as though man could accomplish anything he set his will to. The time had come when Menni could present his idea in full with the confidence that people would listen to him.

  And so now he launched his “Plan of the Project,” which foresaw the transformation of the entire planet. It envisaged the gigantic system of canals whose construction during the following century conquered all the deserts through artificial irrigation and more than doubled the inhabitable surface of Mars. On the basis of an extremely painstaking study of the geographical and geological conditions, Menni indicated both the best location and course of the canals and the sum of human labor, time, and capital they would require. Subsequent generations needed only to supplement his calculations with minor adjustments and additions.

  The main problem concerned the source of these enormous resources and labor. Menni demonstrated that to continue construction as on the Libyan Canal through loans repaid by income from the reclaimed deserts would mean prolonging the Great Project over several centuries. The new financial plan which he proposed instead showed that he could also be a revolutionary outside his own special field. It was a plan for nationalizing the land which provided that all previous ground rent would serve as the source of capital for the Project.

  It goes without saying that the realization of such an undertaking depended upon especially favorable historical circumstances. Such conditions existed. Menni was not the first to understand this; he was simply more able than others to seize the right moment and formulate the best slogan for a powerful social movement attracting the support of various classes.

  By that time the independent peasantry had almost disappeared from the face of Mars. More than nine-tenths of all properties in land were in the hands of a few thousand grotesquely wealthy owners. Most of these were the scions of the old hereditary aristocracy, while
others were descended from various government officials who had taken advantage of their power during the bourgeois revolutions and the last feudal uprisings to appropriate for themselves the confiscated estates of certain reactionaries. The generally dry climate of the planet made it even easier for these landlords to ruin the peasantry and seize their property, since artificial irrigation offered enormous advantages to those who could afford it, but the capital it required was more than the smallholders could hope to raise. The peasants banded together in cooperatives, but sooner or later these associations became saddled with debts and were ruined. In the course of a few centuries the process had progressed so far that small-scale land ownership survived in only a few isolated corners of the planet.

  At the same time, the general economic development and the growth of the population had increased the demand for land and bread; the cost of living, and with it the ground rent, rose rapidly. This was bad for everyone save the landlords; even the vast majority of capitalists found the situation very constrictive, not to mention the proletarian and semi-proletarian masses of the population. The profits of enterprises were reduced by both high land rents and high wages, although the latter were not much above subsistence level. And the more rents and the already high cost of living rose, the more desperately people started looking for a way out of the predicament. Nothing came of this search for a long time, however, because it pulled in different and incompatible directions.

  Certain experts suggested unfeasible plans for legislating reductions in the price of cereals and lease payments. Others realized that nothing could be accomplished until the land was taken away from the lords, but they were unable to agree on how to do this. Should the land be distributed in small parcels to landless peasants who would cultivate it, or should it be turned over to entire cooperatives in the form of large estates, or should it simply be distributed by the government to those who were willing and able to pay the highest rent—obviously, that is, to the capitalists? The first of these approaches, although it threatened to destroy agriculture by depriving it of artificial irrigation, had a great many supporters among the remnants of the petty bourgeoisie and related strata of intellectuals and was also favored by those workers who had retained the ideals of their peasant forebears. The second plan was advocated by a majority of socialists from among the workers and intellectuals. The great economist Xarma was decidedly against it, convincingly arguing that in view of the huge capital needed to run large-scale agricultural enterprises, the peasant cooperatives would soon be dominated entirely by business and banking interests and would become owners in name only, a simple front for the latter. But in those days few socialists listened to Xarma. The third approach—a simple bourgeois “nationalization” of the land—was advanced by certain radical democrats, and it also had the sympathy of most capitalists. In reality this was the only feasible alternative, but at the time Menni presented his project it had not gained sufficiently broad support from society at large.

  On Earth, which is presently going through an analogous period, such “nationalization” schemes are supported by only an insignificant handful of democrats, while almost the entire bourgeoisie rejects them as a harmful utopia. Why such a difference? The explanation lies in the fact that on Earth the working-class movement developed rapidly and aggressively, whereas on Mars this evolution was slower and calmer. The Martian workers of the time were permeated by a spirit of moderation and sober pragmatism. Socialism preserved almost everywhere the strongly idealistic and philanthropic elements injected into it by theoreticians from the intelligentsia. The specter of social revolution did not confront the bourgeoisie as an imminent and menacing possibility.

  By contrast, the bourgeoisie on Earth became aware of the threat posed by the proletariat even before accounts had been settled with the old aristocracy, and this has affected its attitude toward the workers. It is frightened by the thought of the blow which nationalization of the land would deal to the sacred principle of private ownership, the basis of the present social order. What would happen if the masses were to be shown that the property of an entire class could be expropriated in the name of the common good! Also, the bourgeoisie on Earth is placid, due to the very nature of its activities, and even somewhat cowardly since attaining the position of the ruling, that is, the most contented, class; and it is not especially confident of its own abilities to suppress unrest. It therefore highly values the vestiges of militarism and ferociousness that have been preserved among the aristocracy, and it is always prepared to make considerable concessions to ensure itself of allies in the event it should become necessary to crush the masses by force. And of course the first thing it had to agree to was to oppose the idea of nationalization.

  On Mars, however, these conditions did not exist. The situation there was far more favorable, and Menni knew how to take advantage of it. First he linked the idea of nationalization to the Great Cause, whose significance was apparent to all. Secondly, in his book he advanced a very simple and seemingly persuasive argument that allied the bourgeois nationalizers, the supporters of distribution to the individual peasants, and those who favored the cooperatives. He pointed out that the first and most important step was to get rid of the big landowners. Then, since the redistribution of the land or the organization of associations for its collective cultivation could not be effected rapidly, the state would have to start by leasing the land in the usual way, by auctioning it off. Nothing, however, would prevent anyone who wished from engaging parliamentary means in order to bring about a transition to other forms of exploiting the nationalized land. The road would be clear for all sorts of new projects, because the main obstacle—the landowners—would already have been eliminated.

  Menni himself, of course, was not aware how deceptive these arguments really were. For once the state had delivered the exploitation of the land into the hands of the capitalists, taking it away again would prove much more difficult than in the case of the earlier landowners, who had no firm support among the other social classes. Xarma realized this immediately, but he supported Menni’s plan. Others did not bother to look so very deeply into the matter: all the supporters of the peasants and the cooperatives enthusiastically advocated immediate nationalization, and the capitalists also struck while the iron was hot.

  Feli Rao convened a congress of the industrial and banking syndicates. The delegates drew up an action program and elected a Council of Syndicates, which immediately emerged as the decisive force in the struggle. Thus the agrarian revolution was achieved through Parliament.

  Scattered remnants of the peasantry rose in defense of their property, but these revolts were easily suppressed; their only effect was to provide the state with an excuse for expropriating the rebels’ land with almost no compensation. As for the big landlords, instead of compensation they received pensions, which, however, could not lawfully exceed the salaries of the highest officials of the Republic and were a mere pittance compared to the landowners’ previous incomes. The syndicates also owned land in certain places; they managed to negotiate the best terms and were compensated without losses, not to mention the fact that they could expect enormous profits in the future.

  Menni did not participate directly in this struggle, which went on for two or three years, but continued to work on his technical plan. When he approached the Central Parliament with his detailed project for the first ten canals, which he proposed to start simultaneously, it was adopted immediately and he was appointed supervisor and given almost dictatorial powers.

  The Great Project got under way.

  2. Dark Clouds

  Of the first group of canals which Menni began digging, it was proposed that eight be completed in twenty to thirty years. The two in Thaumasia—Nectar and Ambrosia, which created the inland sea called Solis Lacus—were to be finished in ten to twelve years, while a third, Phosphorus, was constructed much later.

  The construction projects were conducted in widely separated corners of the planet, and it was imp
ossible for Menni to supervise them on the spot. However, he selected able assistants who kept him continuously informed by telegraph, and he spent a large share of his time on inspection trips. The most prominent among these subordinates was the engineer Maro, who left his position with the Dynamite and Powder Trust to offer his services to the new project. Within only a year he had become Menni’s chief assistant and the director of the most important part of the undertaking in Thaumasia. The canals had to be completed as quickly as possible there, because they promised immediate and obvious results similar to those that had been achieved in Libya, only on an even grander scale. Maro proved to be an excellent organizer, and Menni’s other lieutenants were also equal to their tasks. The great deeds being wrought inspired everyone with enthusiasm, and during the first years the Project progressed as well as anyone could have wished:

  The workers’ labor conditions were quite respectable, but of course there were conflicts with the engineers over penalties, abuses of power, wage miscalculations, dismissals, and so on. However, such disagreements never developed into a strike; when the local directors were unable to resolve all difficulties the workers agreed to await Menni’s arrival, knowing by experience that they could rely on his disinterested, objective attitude toward disputes, and that despite his icy reserve he would never sacrifice an iota of justice as he understood it in order to save the prestige of their bosses. The engineers were not always happy about this, but even those who called him a dictator behind his back admitted that he listened attentively to their point of view and took all serious and practical arguments into consideration. In addition, the engineers valued the honor of working under his leadership and especially appreciated the opportunities for rapid advancement that lay open to those with sufficient skill and energy.