On the Brink of the World's End

by Brian Stableford

  Good news was transmitted by him directly to his men, and he took to each gun, personally, the new instructions for firing when orders instructed him to change target.

  But his physical resistance was at an end this evening; he perceived that in reading a communication saying:

  Enemy attack definitively failed. On target one, a burst every quarter hour. Measures taken to resupply you 23 hours and evacuate your wounded. Your fire very efficacious.

  Then he made one last round, spreading the consoling information, gave a few orders, and headed for his mattress, felling exhausted.

  Lieutenant Jacques had not been born to be a soldier. Rather delicate in health, repelled by any violent exercise, he only felt alive in the research laboratory that he had entered as soon as his scientific education was complete. He deemed himself fortunate to have been able to penetrate right away into one of the all-too-rare great French industrial enterprises that had understood the technical, economic and moral importance of those research laboratories, so well-developed in certain countries industrially younger than France.

  He had found his way, and had rapidly rendered appreciated services. At the outbreak of the war, as a complement officer, he had rejoined his regiment. Patriotic and scrupulous, he did his duty without ostentation; the cerebral labor that it demanded was mere child’s play to him; he was able to carry out his functions while leaving his mind to work in much higher spheres. Naturally, his scientific preoccupations were orientated toward means of war, and he had astonished his comrades many a time by describing to them, a year before they made their appearance, new machines that seemed to him to be necessary. He gladly repeated that the means of making war were, in sum, very restricted. The present adversaries only used engines of limited local operation, which, in order to produce their effect, had to be employed in considerable numbers.

  In order to beat Germany rapidly, it was necessary to be able to do to it, over the thousands of kilometers of the front, at the rear, among its innumerable armies and even on its own territory, by means of a general catastrophe comparable to a major epidemic of the plague or cholera, what the Bocho-Maximalist26 virus had done to the old Greater Russia or what a torpedo did to a defenseless steamer. But those points of comparison did not furnish any datum to solve the problem. The creation of a general epidemic in Germany was impossible; it was, in any case, repugnant to the French character, all the more so as Germany had already attempted to employ it.

  As for interior decomposition originating from politics, it was necessary not to think of it; the entire history of Germany was there to prove that the German people were made to obey; it could not be other than an arm; it needed its government to think for it.

  It was also utopian to think of blowing up the enemy country like a poor ship!

  And Lieutenant Jacques sank into profound reflections in search of a method that might disarm the abhorred enemy at a stroke.

  Gradually, sudden and strange gleams were produced in his mind, unexpected connections between experiments he had carried out on the contexture and fragility of metals and curious anomalous electrical phenomena that he had promised to look into in future.

  He forced his mind to follow those two questions in parallel, and an idea of genius slowly crystallized in his mind.

  During the frightful attack that had been repelled, thanks in large measure to the conduct of his battery, it seemed to him that the idea took on a definitive form.

  And lying down on his bed of straw, he said to himself: I’ve found it! Then he thought he had the strength to reflect—but physical fatigue got the better of him. He murmured: “That’s it: I’ll write to the President of the Council.”27 Then, worn out, he fell into a profound sleep.

  Lieutenant Jacques of the 3rd battery, 10th artillery regiment,

  to Monsieur the President of the Council of Ministers.

  I have the honor of informing you that I have discovered a previously-unknown means of war, capable in a matter of hours of provoking an unprecedented catastrophe over enemy territory, placing our enemies at our mercy. The method requires:

  A new material, rather important but not extraordinary;

  An ensemble of measures easy to take and to apply simultaneously to all fronts and to neutral frontiers, but the strict execution of which is a vital condition to protect the Allies against a catastrophe identical to the one that must be provoked in the central empires;

  Absolute discretion, because, if the enemy were informed of the project, it could not only diminish the magnitude of the result but suppress it completely by a very simple means;

  A narrow coordination with the general strategy that would certainly modify the plans presently decided.

  For all these reasons, recourse to the usual channels with be absolutely impractical; the number and nature of the questions raised would require the examination of my proposal by a large number of committees and bureaux, which would find it absolutely impossible to reach accord before, by one of the devious means that are unknown to us, but which we sense, the enemy would be informed of the idea and undertake the simple measure to which I have made allusion.

  I will add that add that all these preparations for execution should not give, either to our agents or the enemy, if it should become aware of them, any indication of the goal pursued.

  Only one man in France can examine the ensemble of these questions and decide on them; that man is you, Monsieur President.

  Public opinion has brought your energy to power; I am presenting it with the opportunity to make use of it for the greater good of the country.

  Lieutenant Jacques.

  The military office of the President of the Council, to which that letter was sent, did not attach much importance to it; nevertheless, information was sought regarding the officer so scantly respectful of hierarchical channels.

  That information was such that the skepticism of the President’s entourage was shaken, and in order to avoid any blunder, the letter was presented to the President of the Council. The latter ordered that a senior officer be immediately sent to Lieutenant Jacques to demand the principle of his project and a few details that would permit a judgment as to whether the proposal merited study.

  The officer returned swiftly.

  The lieutenant had simply replied that, on his honor, he guaranteed the veracity of what he had put forward, but that, for the reasons indicated in the letter, he would only explain his project to the President of the Council in person.

  From his short mission, the impression that Jacques had made on him, the conversations he had had with his military superiors and with the director of the Company that had employed him before the war, the officer reported the conviction that the proposal could not be summarily dismissed. The Premier telephoned G.H.Q. to send Lieutenant Jacques to see him.

  The first interview between the great clear-sighted and unshakably determined politician and the calm and resolute young scientist was a rapid clash of swords.

  “Monsieur, you have sent me this letter; you have refused explanations to the superior officer I sent to you. I want to believe that you are not playing a practical joke and that you’ve reflected that causing the man who concentrates the energy and will of France in his hands to waste his time is almost a crime. Explain your project to me rapidly.”

  “Monsieur President, the time has not yet come. I would explain to you what you would not believe. First, it is necessary for me to prove to you that the fundamental idea is sound, and I ought to commence with an experiment.”

  He took a small container out of his jacket pocket the size of a pocket electric torch.

  “With this,” he continued, “by borrowing for a few seconds an electric current just sufficient to illuminate an ordinary light bulb, I could destroy the world.

  “You’re shaking your head, Monsieur President, wondering if I’m not mad. Come with me to a place where I can carry out my experiment without doing any damage, and you’ll see, you’ll believe, and afterwa
rds, you’ll hear and comprehend my project.”

  The President asked for a telephone connection.

  “Colonel, do you have an old building in your arsenal that’s a hindrance to you and you’d like to see disappear? Good…I’ll come to see you tomorrow then.”

  As he was about to hang up the receiver, Lieutenant Jacques made a gesture.

  “Pardon me, Monsieur President, but a few preliminary precautions are indispensable; will you permit me to indicate them before you?”

  In response to an affirmative sign, Jacques took he telephone and gave a few instructions.

  When the communication was terminated, the President said: “So, Monsieur, we’ll leave from here at ten-thirty tomorrow.”

  The next day, at ten-thirty precisely, the President of the Council and Lieutenant Jacques climbed into an automobile, which took them to an arsenal situated in a large Parisian suburb. Jacques made sure that the prescribed instructions had been carried out. Satisfied with his examination, he returned to the President, who was talking to the colonel in command.

  “I’m ready, Monsieur President. Colonel, you know the conditions. Come back in an hour; you’ll be able to observe that the building won’t inconvenience you any longer.”

  At a sign of assent from the great master, the colonel went away. An hour later, when he came back, nothing remained of the large hangar but a layer of dust.

  The President, in an attitude of profound reflection, was staring at the accumulation at his feet. Lieutenant Jacques was placidly making notes. The arrival of the director of the arsenal recalled them to reality.

  The President showed the Colonel what remained of the large edifice, with an expression that said: How was it done? I don’t know. Then he addressed himself to Jacques.

  “What you’ve just done is prodigious, but I can’t conceive its application to the war. I don’t understand.”

  “Now I can explain to you, Monsieur President.”

  A few days later, the lieutenant was summoned to the Presidency.

  “Monsieur Jacques; as you will have anticipated, my decision is made; we’re going to attempt your extraordinary operation. The triumph of civilization and humanity justifies it. But I ought not to be the only one informed. In order to bear all its fruits, your action needs to be intimately linked with that of our armies, and it isn’t me who commands them.”

  “I’ve thought of that. As you’ve finally succeeded in convincing all the Allies to name a single generalissimo,28 it’s him that it’s necessary to inform. We three alone informed, without saying a word to anyone whatsoever, will ensure triumph. I’ve brought a plan of organization and execution such that all those who will be involved will have no suspicion of the work that they are preparing.”

  “That’s my opinion too. I’ve summoned the commander-in-chief.”

  As he said that, the President opened the door to a small room adjacent to his office. With the door securely closed, the three individuals remained in conference for half a day.

  The allied offensive that had been expected did not happen, all the armies receiving strict orders to stay on the defensive and maintain pressure on the enemy by means of an uninterrupted harassment of the front and rear lines. Considerable concentrations of automobile trucks carrying various materiel were, however, organized not far from the lines, as well as large quantities of munitions and provisions of every sort.

  The President of the Council had enormous difficulty, politically, defending himself against reproaches for inaction; he repeated incessantly that: “We’re waiting for the right moment,” citing the authority of the decisions of the generalissimo, who, appointed by all the Allies, was shielded from the ill humor of parliamentarians.

  In the meantime, Jacques worked. To the Swiss frontier and three points on the western front he brought electric power lines from the nearest large generating stations. He had bizarre electrical machines constructed, which bore no resemblance to those known prior to that day; those machines were set up in armored bunkers instructed at the extremities of new lines.

  Crews of sappers carried out various maneuvers at the front.

  After a few months of intensive labor, Jacques, in the course of a meeting with his two highly-placed collaborators, declared to them: “I’m ready. It’s certain that all the precautions have been taken on the Franco-Anglo-Belgian-American, Italian and Greek fronts. On our front, we have succeeded at three points, taking advantage of watercourses, in establishing the necessary connections. If the order is sent to close the Swiss frontier, in the agreed fashion, both on the French side and the Italian side, the cataclysm can by unleashed within forty-eight hours.

  “Half an hour after that release, the observers at the front, the barrage balloons and the airplanes, having been be altered to the phenomena to look for, will inform us as to whether or not that first action has been successful. It is, in fact, necessary to anticipate that the mechanisms established with great difficulty at the front might have suffered deterioration; if the result is negative we shall then be obliged to launch the catastrophe through Switzerland. In that case, you know the measures taken to limit the damage, and those permitting our neighbors to remedy the general upheaval that they will suffer.

  “If, on the contrary, as it is necessary to hope, the result is good, our emissaries will act in the agreed fashion to oblige Switzerland to take the measures that will safeguard that country; in addition, reliable men will depart for selected points where, even independently of the Federal Government, they can proceed with simple operations that will protect the country from all contagion. That is the system that will be employed in Holland and Demark. France will have made the maximum efforts to ensure that those who have not intervened in the struggle do not have to suffer the rude blow that her adversaries are going to receive.

  “Among the enemy, it will be devastating. They will not be able to carry out any defensive move; their famous methodical organization does not permit the rapid comprehension of new things and the consequent making of the necessary decisions. The unexpected is for them a terrible obstacle that stops them, obliging a laborious cerebral effort, which necessities consultations in order to accommodate the abnormal in a familiar frame. They will not yet have grasped the situation as whole when our endeavor will be complete.

  “Squadrons of reconnaissance aircraft will keep us up to date with the progress of the disaster. Then, General, it will be up to you to conclude the task.”

  Lieutenant Jacques had never made such a long speech; in spite of all his calmness, the frightful grandeur of what was about to occur at a gesture from him had overexcited him a little.

  For a few seconds silence reigned between the three men on whom the destiny of the world depended.

  The meditation terminated, they settled with a common accord the ultimate details of the execution of the gigantic project. At the moment of separation, they thought that they would not see one another again until “afterwards”—which is to say, after the great victory—brought them together and, moved, they embraced fraternally.

  A few days after that meeting, the allied front was abuzz with rumors. It appeared that something gave was happening among the Boches. Fires could be seen in large agglomerations; munitions depots were exploding. The aviators reported that they had observed and absolute cessation of movement on the railways.

  Messages providing more detailed information signaled that a large number of destructions were visible behind all the enemy lines. The messages multiplied, making the entire world aware of the extraordinary cataclysm that was invading enemy territory. The ruination and conflagrations reached Berlin, Vienna and all the way to Constantinople.

  A sentiment of surprise, rapidly turning to amazement, and then changing into rage and utter despair, takes possession of Germany and its allies.

  On the other side of the front, the first news is welcomed with calm, people being somewhat suspicious of everything that seems supernaturally favorable, but events hurry on;
the terrible epidemic that is ravaging the central empires is recorded step by step; a wild joy takes possession of everyone; people run out into the streets and embrace one another, weeping with joy. The tombs of those “Died for France and the Allies” are covered with flowers, and loud voices declare to the dear departed; “You are avenged!”

  Then the great awaited new bursts like a clap of thunder: the entire front moves; the French, the English, the Americans, the Italians, the Serbs and the Greeks plunge forward, reducing to nothing the rare resistances of a completely demoralized enemy.

  What, then, has happened?

  Three days after the last meeting of those who were about to save the civilized world, General von Schünburg arrived, out of breath, at Nuremburg railway station just in time to take the westbound train.

  After having expelled the occupants of a carriage that suited him and rebuked the employees who did not exhibit sufficient urgency with regard to a man of his importance—he was in command of an army corps—he installed himself. Then, with an anxious expression, he took two telegrams out of his pocket and reread them attentively. What could they signify? One of the two telegrams came from the commandant of his army at the front, the other from the Minister of War, giving him the order to return to his post immediately “in view of extraordinary circumstances.” He had, therefore, been obliged to interrupt his leave, although he had only arrived in Nuremburg the day before.

  Tyrannical with his subordinates, he showed, like all Prussian officers, an absolute discipline with regard to his superiors. Thus, he did not protest against the order that deprived him of the distractions he had promised himself, but preoccupied himself with the reason that had provoked it. What could the extraordinary circumstances in question be?