Life Everlasting and Other Tales of Science, Fantasy, and Horror

by David Henry Keller

  The Emperor tried to remember what it was all about, and how he had come to this depth of trouble.

  Then he recalled his bitter hate, and knew that Mo still remained undestroyed; and he breathed harshly, and his woman knew that he desired to talk. She put her pink shell near his mouth; and, with a great effort, he told her to press the golden button. This she did.

  Thus Mo was destroyed by the dainty fingers of a slave woman who had no name and was simply there and faithful to the Emperor, whom all others had left, because she loved him, and was to bear him a son.

  In the room it grew colder, and the woman gathered the rugs and the silken sheets, and wrapped each jelly fish of a man up as warm as she could; but the warmest things she put around the Emperor. There the nine lay, boneless and unable to die, while the breath from their nostrils congealed like steam in the frosty air.

  Thus Heracles found them.

  He sat down by the Emperor, and told the story of what he had done; how he had planned that his enemies should live on for centuries filled with the long life of the bee jelly and boneless because of the gland juice he had given. The Emperor heard it all, but was soundless and motionless. In his eyes was a look of hatred that only a great man can devise, and in his heart was a deep content for he knew from the rolling thunder that Mo was being destroyed.

  Meantime, it grew colder.

  The woman, shivering, feared for her unborn son.

  Mo was being blown to pieces. The damage done by the thousands of tons of powder was only a small part of the harm done to that fair land. The buried gases, exploding, tore the deep rocks into a million fragments; and all over Mo, volcanoes burst into activity. Tidal waves overflowed the land; lava buried it. Sixty million people were drowned, burned, or suffocated with the poisonous fumes. A continent was destroyed, leaving scattered islands as small fragments—Borneo on one side and the Easter Islands on the other—Australia to the South was formed, arid, cheerless, a fit home for Bushmen. Some of the citizens of Mo survived on the mountain peaks hurled upward as in the Hawaiian group, but their culture, temples, wealth, and even their tradition, were hopelessly lost.

  The Emperor of Mo, with his favorite wives and nobles, was feasting in their small city of refuge. The shock of the cataclysm reached them even in that far away rock-bound enclosure. They feasted on, each man and woman pretending to his neighbors at the banquet table that the sound was thunder.

  The banquet passed on through the night, and the next day, a breathless messenger arrived with news that could be given only to the Emperor. This news was whispered in the royal ear as the great man sat at the head of the table. Shivering, he commanded a certain wine to be served and, in all seriousness, that a health be drunk to their beloved land of Mo. All of the great men and their lovely women drank of this wine and then sat down and died, while their servants fled in terror to press on into the desert where they died in various ways.

  Fourteen thousand years later, three prospectors, typical desert rats of Arizona, prospected for gold near the Colorado river. One day, while working in a twenty-nine foot shaft, one of them drove his pick through the roof of what seemed to be an abandoned mine shaft. It was paved with square, beveled stones fastened together with cement. These stones had the appearance of great age. Descending into this shaft with torches, they followed it for twenty-eight miles and came to a buried city. Here they found many old buildings, one of which was a circular chamber with a large table of marble around which sat the dead, dried bodies of seventy-two persons, all over six feet tall, with blue eyes and white skins. Their flesh was white and firm, being preserved in some wonderful manner. On these dead bodies, was wonderful jewelry, but most of the clothing had fallen into dust. In another large room, were the dead bodies of over two hundred women who looked as though they were lovely in their day. This place, the desert rats thought, might have been a harem. Throughout the city there were peculiar trap doors and all kinds of interesting levers and mechanisms, the use of which was hard to determine.

  Taking a lot of the jewelry with them, they sought civilization to secure help in the exploration of this city. When they returned, a freshet of the Colorado had covered the opening of the tunnel with sand, and they were unable to locate it.

  Thus died the great land of Mo.

  The fair country of Atlantis had no enemies. It lived only for pleasure and art. From Ireland to the shores of America it lay in the sunshine. Then one day, a continent across the globe was destroyed. A terrific shifting of balance of weight took place; large tidal waves rolled from one sea to the other; and suddenly, the continent of Atlantis was swallowed up by the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Thus a kindly, lovable, people paid the price of the hatred between two nations they had never harmed. So perished the second of these great lands.

  Where Gobi once ruled supreme now rule the Himalayas. These mountains, the greatest in the world, run nineteen hundred miles from east to west, and an average of ninety miles from north to south. They cover a total of one hundred and sixty thousand square miles. Of these mountains, the greatest peak, Mount Everest, reaches upward to the sky twenty-nine thousand one hundred and forty feet above the sea level. Immense sections of these mountains are inaccessible to modern man. Mount Everest remains unconquered.

  Hidden in the tops of these mountains, unknown to man save by tradition, lies the ancient capital of the lost Empire of Gobi. Half-frozen Tatars, insect-ridden Lamas, barbarians of every description, remain as the sole descendants of what was once a great people. Even the memory of their former greatness has been lost in the changing struggles of fourteen thousand years. If they are asked how old these mountains are, they will reply that they have always been there. How could they know that once all this land was lowland, forest land, a pleasant country for rich folk to live in? How could they know of the physician from Mo and his magical table and map thereon?

  Yet amid those mountains lies the ancient city and the Hall of the Dragon. There on their silken cushions, their beds of goosefeathers, lie the boneless Emperor and the boneless Seven Wise Men; and, though their bodies are chilled with the frost of centuries, should there come a pleasant day of springtime with blossoming almond trees and a warm, gentle shower, those frozen hearts would once again send pulsing life through those boneless sacks. Full of the jelly food of the queen bee, they can never die, at least not for a long, long, time.

  On the floor in front of the Emperor lies the body of Heracles, dead of a dagger thrust by the nervous hand of the woman beloved by the Emperor. The body of the physician, frozen, decays not.

  Neither does the body of the beloved woman.

  And frozen in her body lies the unborn Prince of Gobi, last of a royal line that dared all for their hatred of a bitter enemy.

  Thus perished Gobi.

  UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN

  FOREWORD

  THE Earl of Birkenhead, in his recent book, The World in 2030 A.D., gives his idea of life of that time; and presents, in a most matter of fact way, his opinion of the changes which will take place in the very short space of a hundred years.

  Even more remarkable than his conceptions is the fact that the words are the sober statements of a prominent scientist and sociologist. They are not uttered with the fantastic manner and pseudo-scientific language of some of our modern prophets, but rather in a dull, prosaic delivery.

  The reader is forced, by the very manner in which the subject is presented, to feel that such changes in our social and economic life may take place. After all, they are not greatly different in the wonder element from the changes of the last one hundred years.

  Yet, throughout the reading of this prophecy, the student of human relations is forced to feel, with a certain uneasiness, that the author has become so intent upon the marvelous that he has tended to overlook the fact that the people of 2030, in spite of every scientific gain, will still be human beings, and that, because of their being human beings, certain of their reactions will be very similar to those of their ance
stors.

  So, we can well ask ourselves just what these people of this new year of 2030 will be thinking, just how they will be reacting to the changes of a super-scientific era? Will the emotions be wiped out or will men and women still react to beauty, the love of life, the fear of death, and the clinging fingers of a little child?

  THE STORY

  JACOB HURLER, seventh of that name and direct descendant of that Jacobus Hubelaire who had emigrated from Strassburg to Pennsylvania in 1740, had at last earned for himself a very satisfactory place in life. As Government Official, Class D, Division 7, No. 4829, Gross Number 25978432, he was now entitled to maintenance of the 5th type, which station made a man feel very comfortable.

  He had earned that position by his inventions which made possible the artificial production of all food supplies in the individual home. Prior to his work in this dietary field, large laboratories in every city had produced synthetic food and meats, grown in large test tubes. The method was adequate in every way to the needs of the populace, but the manner of distribution was still antiquated. Hubler perfected a small, but complete production laboratory, not much larger than the electric refrigerators of the past century. His product, in its preparation, was entirely automatic and practically foolproof. It would generate, day by day and year by year, a complete and attractive food supply for a family of two. It not only created the food, but there was an auxiliary machine which prepared it for the table in any form desired by the consumer. All that was necessary was the selection of one of the twenty-five menus, and the pressing of the proper control button.

  The inventions became very popular with the type of women who still took pride in their home life; and when he added a service unit which automatically served the meal, removed it, and washed the dishes, it was more than most women could resist. Thousands of women ceased to eat at the community restaurants, and accepted home meals as an ultra-refinement. Hubler's name became a household shibboleth. The woman who had three units in her home could serve three meals a day with no greater effort than the pressing of fifteen push buttons. It was his ability as an inventor that placed Hubler in Class D, Division 7. The promotion carried with it certain rewards. It entitled him to complete support for the rest of his life, and it gave him the right to prolong that life to the age of one hundred and fifty years, if he so desired. Most valuable of all, it gave him permission to marry.

  Years before, the State, realizing the important value of recent discoveries, passed laws which made the nation, rather than the individual, the sole owner and beneficiary of all inventions, especially those pertaining to the comfort of the individual, the welfare of the Commonwealth, and the prolongation of life. Thus, the age of usefulness was rapidly advanced to an average expectancy of one hundred and fifty years, but only those who, by their performances, showed that they were of real value to the nation, were allowed to live on.

  Similarly, the right to marry and have one child was carefully guarded by the State. Strict laws of bio-genesis had been followed for three generations, and, as a result, the prisons and the hospitals for the abnormals had been made useless. These had been converted into nurseries and adolescent homes. Thus, a man and woman, under the most strict supervision, could marry and have one child, but only the most worthy were accorded that right.

  However, if a man showed a real value to the nation, and it was determined that his child would also be of value, then he was allowed to marry, provided a suitable and scientifically proper woman could be found for his wife. No couple could have a second child till the first one had reached maturity and had been found to be normal in every way.

  Hubler, at the age of sixty, was told that he could marry. He was rather thrilled at the news. During the last few years, permits had not been plentiful. With the prolongation of life and the increase of efficiency, it was found best not to have too many citizens. So for twenty years, permission to marry had been given only to the men and women of the highest type.

  Thus, it was really an honor to marry. Hubler talked it all over with his first assistant, Ruth Fanning. She had worked at his elbow for twenty-five years and was nearly as old as he was. She, too, had ambitions.

  "I think that it is wonderful, Mr. Hubler," she said. "You deserve the honor, if any man does. Your inventions have made women desire homes and want to spend some time in them, and what is the use of having a home without a husband and a child?"

  "It is kind of you to say that, Miss Fanning," the inventor replied. "You realize that much of the work would never have been done without your help and suggestions. I am proud of the honor, but I am not at all certain that I will ever marry. Just having the right is not all. They have to find a complimentary female for me."

  "Oh! You are too easily discouraged. You, no doubt, will fall into an unusual group, but there will be some women in that group; and I am sure that one of them will be glad to have you for a husband."

  "I hope so," he said, rather pessimistically. As an inventor of service units for modern kitchens, he was bravery personified, but when it came to marriage—why, that was something different.

  He only worked an hour a day, five days a week. Nevertheless, it was thought advisable to give him a month's vacation, during which time he was to take the various examinations and prepare for married life. On the second day of his liberty, he drove his car to the Central Marriage Testing Bureau, and, with more than a slight degree of hesitation, he entered the main office with all his credentials.

  The Head of the Bureau explained the procedure to him:

  "This may seem very complicated to you, but, in reality, it is simple. We examine you in every way, and correlate the results. We then change everything into a mathematical formula, and this works out your final classification. After that, all that is necessary is to find a woman with the same classification, have you meet one another, and if you desire to be husband and wife, we will allow you to marry. Of course, it takes time. Even the development of your personality—the taking of pictures and their proper study—takes several days."

  "One question," asked Hubler. "After I am typed, do I have to marry the woman you select for me?"

  "Not at all. We give you a list of the unmarried eligibles of your special type number. Any one of these you select will be satisfactory to us."

  "And the old emotion, love, does it not enter into it? You see, I do not know. I am only asking for information; but in one of the old books I have, it speaks of men and women falling in love."

  The scientist looked stern.

  "That is the way it used to be. That kind of love produced the feeble-minded, the epileptic, the dullard, and, occasionally, a genius. Under the modern method, the birth and maturity of an abnormal child is not possible. You want your child to be perfect, do you not?"

  "Of course! What father would want anything else?"

  "Then do not allow yourself to fall in love, as your forefathers did."

  For the next week, Jacob Hubler was an interested participant in the typing of his personality and body. Since he was an inventor, every step of the process was explained to him. At last, all the results were ready for the co-ordination machine. This was the one which produced the final mathematical rating. Buttons were pressed, cogwheels whirred, automatic type clicked, and, at last, a paper came out of the lower slot. The Head of the Bureau took it and studied it very seriously, and finally said;

  "Just as I thought, gentlemen; this is a new type, and I believe the one we have been anxiously looking for. It is positively new, and adds a novel group to our known dominant factors. Would you like to look at it, Mr. Hubler?"

  The inventor took the white pasteboard and read: TYPE, Q—GROUP, X—DIVISION, 35—***

  "You notice that it is a three star card?" remarked the Head. "In the last fifty years, we have had the three star card occur only nine times, and no one has ever had as high a rating as 35."

  "What does it mean?" asked the puzzled Hubler.

  "It means that we can be certain that y
our child will be a philosopher, and at present the country needs one or two philosophers rather badly. Those we have are growing old and are not as inspirational as we should like them to be."

  "Then I can marry and have one child?"

  "No. That is the unfortunate part of it. You are a new type, and consequently there are no women of that to introduce you to."

  "Then my right to marry is just a hollow mockery?"

  "Yes. You are so strongly dominant that it would be absolutely wrong for you to marry into another type. Still, the matter is not at all hopeless. We are making examinations every day, and we may find your type at any time."

  "How many variations are there?"

  "Over seven millions."

  "Then I might as well go back to work."

  "No, go ahead with your month's vacation. We will make a special study of the female applicants from now on, and we may be able to find one for you. We may even shade the results a trifle and give you a break. Of course, that would be pure experiment and might result disastrously."

  Thirteen days later, Jacob Hubler received orders to report at once to the Marriage Bureau. The Head of the Department was all excited. He said:

  "A most unusual thing happened yesterday. We have been testing and typing a very extraordinary woman, and we suspected from the preliminary examinations that something novel would result. Her license to marry was over twenty years old, but she had never been tested. She explained that by saying that the man she wanted to marry did not have a permit, so she decided to wait for him. A month ago, he received his permit, so she decided to be typed. To our surprise, she developed the same type and group you did, the new one. The only difference is that she is a **** person, while you are a *** one. She is the only **** one we have ever had. Four stars show a wonderful mental maturity. The mating should produce the finest kind of a philosopher. We did not tell her about you. Thought it would be best to talk it over with you first. It is most unusual."