Smith entered the mind of his Capellan agent at a moment when he was
clearly off duty. In fact, the engineer of the Cobulus was at the
time enjoying an uncommonly good photoplay.
Smith had arrived too late to see the beginning of the picture; but
he found it to be a more or less conventional society drama. And for
a while he was mainly interested in the remarkably clear
photography, the natural coloring and stereoscopic effect that the
doctor had already noted through young Ernol. Smith nearly
overlooked the really fine music, all coming from a talking machine
of some kind.
And then the picture came to an end, and a farce-comedy began. It
was an extraordinarily ingenious thing, with little or no plot;
afterward Smith could not describe it with any accuracy. However,
Mrs. Kinney, down-stairs, plainly heard him laughing as though his
sides would give way.
The picture over, Smith's man got up and left the place; and once
outside he glanced at his watch and took up a position on the curb,
much as Smith had often done when a younger man. The Capellan seemed
to know a good many of the people who came out of the playhouse; and
meanwhile Smith took note of something of extreme importance.
The playhouse did not have any advertising whatever in sight, except
for a single bulletin-board, like the bill of fare of a cafeteria.
Moreover--and this is the significant thing--there was no
box-office, neither was any one at the door to take tickets.
The place was wide open to the world. It was located on a very busy
street in what appeared to be a good-sized city; but, to all
appearances, any one might enter who chose to.
"Free amusements," thought Smith, "to keep the boobs happy."
Shortly his agent stepped down the street, which seemed to be
greatly like one in any city on the earth, except that there was
remarkably little noise. Perhaps it was due to the total lack of
street-cars and surface machinery in general. Certainly the space
between the sidewalks was used for little else than the parking of
flying-machines. The buildings housed a variety of stores, all built
on a large scale. There were no small shops at all.
Smith's agent quickly reached his own flier, a small two-seater
ornithopter finished in dull gray--Smith's favorite color,
incidentally--and in a minute or two he was well under way. Smith
had a chance to watch, at close range, the distorted S-motion of the
machine's wings. But the flight lasted only a few minutes, and
presently the craft was again at rest.
This time it was parked under a tremendously long shed, which Smith
afterward saw was really a balcony, one of a tier of ten. Opposite
the spot was a large building, like a depot; and over its roof Smith
saw the huge bulk of an airship.
It was, of course, the Cobulus; and it was when Smith's agent passed
through a checking-in room that his name was heard for the first
time. "All right, Reblong," was the way it came, from the official
who punched his time-card. And Reblong, with Smith making eager use
of his eyes, went directly through a hatch in the side of the great
ship, and thence down a corridor to his engine-room.
Smith got little opportunity to study the machinery. Reblong gave
the place a single sweeping glance, then strode to a short,
black-bearded chap who stood near the instrument board.
"Everything as usual, my friend?" He had a pleasant voice, as Smith
learned for the first time.
"Yes--as usual!" The man's voice was bitter. "That's just what's
wrong! There's never any improvement; it's always--as usual! Say,
Reblong; no offense, but I think we are fools to put up with what we
are given!"
Smith's man complacently seated himself in front of the instruments.
"Personally, I think we are mighty lucky, instead of foolish."
"Lucky!" The other man snorted. "I wish Ernol could hear you say
that! He'd have a fit!"
Reblong was not at all disturbed. "By the way, what's become of the
chap? I haven't seen him around for weeks?"
"Don't know, exactly," with some uneasiness. "He went back to
Calastia, and that's the last I heard of him."
"Calastia? I saw an item in the paper last night, to the effect that
Calastia was under quarantine. All news cut off."
The man instantly smelled a mouse. "Quarantine! Why should that
cause the news to be cut off? There's something more than quarantine
the matter, Reblong!" He began to pace the room excitedly. "I say it
again, we're fools to believe everything the commission tells us. I
think they've been hoodwinking us about long enough!"
Reblong suppressed a yawn. "I don't care if they do, old man. I'm
willing to leave it up to them to run the government."
"And that's exactly what's the matter!" cried the other. "You and
every other chap except those Ernol has taught, thinks that the
commission is God-given and can do no wrong!"
"Yes?" politely. "Maybe so; only, you can't blame us for thinking
pretty highly of a government that has done this." Reblong checked
the items off on his fingers, meanwhile eying his companion
steadily: "It has done away with the liquor traffic; it has fully
protected women in industry; it has put an end to child labor; it
has abolished poverty; it has abolished war; and"--with considerable
emphasis for so quiet a man--"it has provided you and me and
everybody else with a mighty fine education, free of charge!"
Reblong's manner, by its very emphasis, had the effect of making the
other man suddenly quite cool. "Correct; I admit them all. And at
the same time I want to show you that the commission has
accomplished all this, not primarily for our benefit, but in the
interests of the owners.
"They gave us prohibition because drinking was bad for business; no
other reason, Reblong! And that's why the women are protected, too;
a protected, contented woman brings in better dividends to the
owners than one who is worked to death.
"Neither did it pay to allow child labor; it resulted in misery and
reduced production, in the long run, and that meant reduced
dividends. Poverty didn't pay, either; poor people do not make
efficient workmen. War was abolished, Reblong, not for any
humanitarian motives, but because peace brought in fatter profits
and less waste.
"And as for our compulsory education"--he snapped his fingers
contemptuously--"just what does it amount to? Simply this: it didn't
pay the owners to allow illiteracy! An educated workman is a better
dividend-producer than an ignorant one. That's all there is to it,
Reblong! Don't fool yourself into thinking that the commission has
done all this for your benefit! Not much!"
"Maybe you're right," conceded Reblong. "As for myself, I don't care
a rap what the commission's reasons were. I'm satisfied!"
The other man looked disgusted. "Satisfied! Just because you're
guaranteed your dollar an hour, and your pension at sixty!
Satisfied, when half the company's profits go to the owners, not one
of whom ever did a bit of work in his life! A bunch of people who do
nothing but blow in the money we earn, and spend more in a day than
we do in a month!"
"They're welcome," commented Reblong with much indifference. "If I
got all that you have told me is coming to me, I'd probably ruin
myself with high living anyhow."
"You don't mean to say that you've swallowed that old piffle!" said
the black-bearded chap incredulously.
"I don't see any piffle about it. As I look at the matter, the
owners are doing us a genuine favor. Not only do they take the
burden of our surplus earnings off our shoulders, but they run our
government for us without charge."
"Well, I'll be utterly damned!" The other fellow looked as though
the words were not half strong enough. "I never thought a full-grown
man could continue to believe the stuff we were taught when we were
kids! Don't you ever think for yourself, Reblong? Why, look here!"
He came closer and spoke with painstaking clearness, as though he
were addressing a child.
"The commission, instead of assuring us that increased wages would
be our ruin, could just as well be educating us to spend wisely!
Just as well, Reblong! And as for child labor--man, children ought
to be kept out of industry until they're twenty, instead of sixteen!
Every last one of us ought to be given a college education, instead
of merely the children of the rich! And all this could be done, too.
There's no earthly reason why we should permit that bunch of
parasites in Hafen to graft off us any longer! Put 'em to work, like
you and me, and make life easier for us all!"
"But," objected Reblong, a little upset, "there's only a few of the
owners. They couldn't help much."
"But their servants could. Do you know that there's ten servants, on
an average, to every family of the rich? Servants who do nothing but
make life still easier for people who already hog it all!"
"Well, suppose they did all go to work; who would run our government
for us, my friend?"
"Who! Why--if we can do the work, I guess we can certainly do the
governing, Reblong."
Reblong turned away, plainly bewildered. "It doesn't look right to
me, old man. I'd rather let things stand as they are, so far as I'm
concerned."
Somewhere a warning instrument was thrumming loudly. The man with
the democratic ideas automatically turned to his locker, and
proceeded to change his outer clothing. Reblong meanwhile took off
his suit and slipped into some full-length overalls. As he buttoned
them up around the neck he stepped in front of a glass.
Smith was nearly floored. The man was almost his exact double; an
ordinary, everyday sort of a chap, with a very commonplace face.
Perhaps, like Smith's, his face concealed a remarkable technical
knowledge; but nobody would have given him a second glance. Was he,
thought Smith, a typical Capellan workman?
The other man was ready to go. He hesitated, studying the floor;
then said, regretfully:
"The worst part of it is, Reblong, everybody I talk to is as bad as
you are. They all admit that things are not what they should be--but
nobody cares!"
He went to the door, and Reblong heard him say, under his breath, as
he turned the knob:
"Great Heavens! What's come over the world anyhow? Has it gone
stagnant?"
X