Fata Morgana
To explain how I came to witness the spectacle of London in its
extremity, I must go back to the evening at Nordenholt’s which I have
already described. He persisted in his project of forcing us into the
fresh air, often twice or thrice a week if the weather was favourable;
and to tell the truth, I was nothing loath. Over a hundred hours of my
week were spent in concentrated mental activity under conditions which
removed me more and more from direct contact with human affairs as time
went on; and I looked forward with pleasure to these brief interludes
during which I could take up once more the threads of my old life and
its interests.
Nordenholt himself contributed but little to the conversation on these
excursions. Sometimes he brought with him one of his numerous experts
and spent the time in technical discussions; but usually he occupied
the back seat of the car alone, lost in his thoughts and plans, while I
drove and Miss Huntingtower sat beside me.
As our time was limited, and we wished to avoid the city as much as
possible, our routes were mainly those to the west, by the Kilpatrick
Hills or the Campsies. We never pushed farther afield, as Nordenholt
had forbidden me to go outside the boundaries of the Nitrogen Area. I
think he was afraid of what she might see by the roadside if we passed
the frontier.
Even during these few short afternoons, I came to know her better.
Somehow I had got the impression that she was graver than her years
justified; but I found that in this estimate I was mistaken. She was
sobered by the responsibility of her work, but underneath this she
seemed to have a natural craving for the enjoyment of life, and a
capacity for making the best of things which was suited to my own mood.
She was quite unaffected; I never found her posing in any way. Whether
she chattered nonsense--and I believe both of us did that at times--or
was discussing the future, she gave me the impression of being
perfectly natural.
We used to make all sorts of plans for the future of the world, once
the danger was past; half-trivial, half-serious schemes which somehow
took on an air of fairy-tale reality. “When I am Queen, I will set
such and such a grievance right”; “In the first year of my Presidency,
I will publish an edict forbidding so and so.” Between us, on these
drives, we planned a fairy kingdom in the future, a new Garden of
the Hesperides, a dream-built Thelema of sunlit walls and towers and
pleasure-grounds wherein might dwell the coming generations of men.
The future! Somehow that was always with us. Less and less did we go
backward into the past. That world was over, never to return; but the
years still to come gave us full scope for our fancies and to them we
turned with eager eyes.
The diversion grew upon us as time went on. It was always spontaneous,
for our work gave neither of us an opportunity for thinking out
details; and each afternoon brought its fresh store of improvisations.
Through it all, she was the dreamer of dreams; it was my part to throw
her visions into a practically attainable form: and gradually, out of
it all, there arose a fabric of phantasy which yet had its foundations
in the solid earth.
It took form; we could walk its streets in reverie and pace its lawns.
And gradually that land of Faerie came to be peopled with inhabitants,
mere phantasms at first, but growing ever more real as we talked of
them between ourselves. Half in jest and half in earnest we created
them, and soon they twined themselves about our hearts. Children of our
brain, they were; dearer than any earthly offspring, for from them we
need fear no disappointments.
Fata Morgana we christened our City, after the mirage in the Straits of
Messina; for it had that mixture of clear outline and unsubstantiality
which seemed to fit the name.
So we planned the future together out of such stuff as dreams are made
on. And behind us, grim and silent, sat Nordenholt, the real architect
of the coming time.
* * * * *
He never interrupted our talks; and I had no idea that he had even
overheard them until one day he called me into his office. He seemed
unusually grave.
“Sit down, Jack,” he said, and I started slightly to hear him use the
name, since hitherto I had always been simply “Flint” to him. “I’ve got
something serious to discuss with you; and it won’t keep much longer.”
He looked up at the great Nitrogen Curve above the mantelpiece and
seemed to brood over the inclinations of the red and green lines upon
it. They were closing upon one another now, though some distance still
separated them.
“Did it ever occur to you that I can’t go on for ever?”
“Well, I suppose that none of us can go on for ever; but I don’t think
I would worry too much over that, Nordenholt. Of course you’re doing
thrice the work that I am; but I don’t see much sign of it affecting
you yet.”
“Have a good look.”
He swung round to the light so that I could see his face clearly;
and it dawned upon me that it was very different from the face I
had seen first at the meeting in London. The old masterfulness was
there, increased if anything; but the leanness was accentuated over
the cheek-bones and there was a weary look in the eyes which was
new to me. I had never noticed the change, even though I saw him
daily--possibly because of that very fact. The alteration had been so
gradual that it was only by comparing him with what I remembered that I
could trace its full extent.
“Satisfied, eh?”
“Well, there is a change, certainly; but I don’t think it amounts to
much.”
“The inside is worse than the surface, I’m afraid. But don’t worry
about that. I’ll last the distance, I believe. It’s what will happen
after the finish that is perplexing me now.”
I muttered something which I meant to be encouraging.
“Well, have it your own way, if you like,” he replied; “but I _know_. I
have enough energy to see me through this stage of the thing; but this
is only a beginning. After it, comes reconstruction; and I shall be
exhausted by that time. I can carry on under this strain long enough to
see safety in sight; but someone else must take up the burden then. I
won’t risk doing it myself. I must have a fresh mind on the thing. So I
have to cast about me now for my successor.”
It was a great shock to hear him speak in this tone. Somehow I had
become so accustomed to look up to Nordenholt as a tower of strength
that it was hard to realise that there might some day be a change
of masters. And yet, like all his views, this was accurate. When we
reached the other bank, he would have strained himself to the utmost
and would have very few reserves left.
“I’ve been watching you, Jack,” he went on. “I’ve got fairly sharp
ears; and your talks in the car interested me.”
I was aghast at this; for I had believed that these dreams and
plannings were things entirely between Miss Huntingtower and myself.
They certainly were not meant for anyone else.
“At first,” he went on, “I thought it was only talk to pass the time;
but by-and-by I saw how it attracted you both. After all, there are
worse ways of passing an afternoon than in building castles in the
air. But what I liked about your castles was that they had their roots
in the earth. You have a knack of solid building, Jack, even in your
dreams. It’s a rare gift, very rare. I felt more friendly to you when I
followed all that.”
There was no patronage in his tone. As usual, he seemed to be stating
what appeared to him an obvious conclusion.
“The upshot is,” he went on, “that I’m going to dismiss you from
your present post and put you in charge of a new Department dealing
with Reconstruction. There will be one condition--or rather two
conditions--attached to it; but they aren’t hard ones. Will you take
it?”
Of course I was taken completely aback. I had never dreamed of such
a thing; and I hardly knew what to say. I stammered some sort of an
acceptance as soon as I could find my voice.
“Very good. You cut loose from your present affairs from this moment.
Anglesey will take over. You can give him all the pointers he asks for
to-day; and after that he must fend for himself. I’ll have no two minds
on that line of work.
“Now as to the new thing. It will make you my successor, of course;
and I want to start with a word of warning. Unlimited power is bad for
any man. You have only to look at the example of the Cæsars to see
that: Caligula, Tiberius, Nero, you’ll find the whole sordid business
in Suetonius. And I can tell you the same thing at first hand myself.
I’ve got unlimited power here nowadays; and it isn’t doing me any good.
I feel that I am going downhill under it daily. You’ll probably see it
yourself before long, although I’ve fought to keep it in check. So much
for the warning.
“Now as to the conditions. I admired your dream-cities, Jack. I wish
you could build them all in stone. But even if you were to do that,
they would still have to be peopled; and I doubt if you will find the
men and women whom you want for them among the present population.
Mind you, I believe you have good material there; but it has a basis
in the brute which none of your dream-people had. You don’t realise
that factor; you couldn’t understand its strength unless you saw it
actually before you: and my first condition is meant to let you see the
frailty with which you will have to contend and which you will have to
eliminate before you can see that visionary race pacing the gardens in
your Fata Morgana. It’s all in full blast within five hundred miles
of here. London is thronged with people just the same as those down
there in the factories; and I want you to see what it amounts to when
you take off the leash. So the first condition is that you go down
to London and see it with your own eyes. I could prepare you for it
from the reports I have; but I think it will be better if you see it
for yourself and don’t trust to any other person. I’ll make all the
arrangements; and you can leave in a couple of days.”
I am no enthusiast for digging into the baser side of human nature, and
the prospect which he held out was not an inviting one to me. But I
could see that he laid stress upon it, so I merely nodded my consent.
“Now the second condition. I daresay that you alone could plan a very
good scheme of reconstruction; but it would be a pure male scheme. You
can’t put yourself in any woman’s place and see things with her eyes,
try as you will. But this Fata Morgana of yours, when it rises, has to
be inhabited by both men and women; and you have to make it as fit for
the women as for the men. That’s where you would collapse.”
“I suppose you’re right. I don’t know much about a woman’s point of
view. I never had even a sister to enlighten me.”
“Quite so. I judged as much from some things. Well, my second condition
is that you take over Elsa as a colleague. It was hearing the two of
you talk that gave me the idea of using you, Jack; so it is only fair
that she should have a share in the thing also.”
“But would Miss Huntingtower leave you?”
“I’ll try to persuade her. Anyway, leave it to me. But remember, Jack,
not a word to her about London or the South. She knows nothing of that
yet. I’ve kept her work confined entirely to Area affairs. I want to
spare her as long as I can; for she’ll take it hard when it comes.
She’ll take it very hard, I’m afraid. Until you’re back from London I
shall say nothing to her about your being away, lest she asks where you
have gone.”
I was still dazzled by the promotion he had promised me; and I thanked
him for it, again and again. When I left him, my mind was still full of
it all. I don’t know that I felt the responsibility at first; it was
rather the chance of bringing things nearer to that dream-city which we
had built upon the clouds, that I felt most strongly. I had no doubt
that I could lay the foundations securely; and upon them Elsa could
build those fragile upper courses in which she delighted. It would be
our own Fata Morgana, but reared by human hands.
So I dreamed....