Fresh Surprises
While I was questioning Professor Tan Trum and his family in regard to
the underworld, they were equally eager in making inquiries as to my
own land.
Naturally, they were anxious to know where I had come from, and how I
had arrived; but, unfortunately, they already had their own theories
on the subject, and nothing that I could say was able to change their
views. Since they had decided that I had escaped from some cavern far
below them, my story that I had come from the so-called "Overworld" met
with incredulous smiles. Their attitude was about what our own would be
if some stranger should assert that he came from the depths of the sea.
"No use trying to deceive us!" they cried reprovingly. "The Overworld
is not capable of supporting life!"
And then curiously they asked, "Are the people where you come from all
colored like you?"
"Colored?" I flung back, a little irritated. "I haven't a speck of
colored blood in my veins! I'm American white, every inch of me!"
"White?" they jeered, pointing to my face, with its rosy complexion.
"What! you call that white? Why, you're pink!"
And loud was the laughter that convulsed the family group.
"If you're white, then what are we?" demanded Loa, insolently
indicating her own snowy features.
I had nothing to say in reply. I could see that, by comparison with the
chalk-faces, I was indeed the member of a colored race.
"My dear young man," consoled Professor Tan Trum, with the most
unbearable superciliousness, "do not let the matter of your origin
grieve you. We know that birth is not a matter of choice, and if nature
has made you a member of an inferior race, at least it speaks well for
you that you could rise to join us."
"But I didn't rise to join you!" I insisted. "I descended! I fell into
your world by accident, through a fissure caused by the shocks of your
warfare."
This explanation, however, was ignored, while the members of the
family exchanged significant glances, as if to say that I was the most
incorrigible liar they had ever met.
It was Tan Tal, the charming wife of Tan Trum, who put the next
question.
"Where you come from, is there only one country?--or is there more than
one, so as to give you someone to fight with?"
"Oh, there are many countries!" I declared. "We have simply no end of
lands to fight with!"
At this announcement, the three young daughters of the family tittered
uncontrollably, with the most amused expressions on their milky,
wrinkled countenances.
"Why, how funny!" laughed Loa.
"How confusing!" giggled Moa.
"How absurd!" roared Noa. "Then how do you know which one to fight
first?"
Professor Tan Trum, unlike his daughters, had been listening with an
unsmiling solemnity of manner. I could see that he did not consider my
statement comical; his massive brow was furrowed with profound thought
as he replied.
"That is an excellent idea, young man--to divide yourselves into
many countries. It is plain that even the barbarians have ideas. Up
here, you see, we have only two nations, Wu and Zu. Hence we are much
handicapped, from the military point of view. If we want to go to war,
we have only one possible enemy, and that at times grows monotonous.
Again, it becomes difficult sometimes to find excuses for hostilities.
They say that only this year our Secretary of National Defense--poor
fellow!--was driven out of his mind to find a plausible reason for
declaring war on Zu. However, if we had had some other country to
oppose, there would have been no problem at all."
"Yes, that is so, father," agreed Loa, who by this time had ceased
laughing. "Why not recommend to Dictator Thuno Flâtum that we split up
into several countries?"
"Excellent!" concurred Tan Tal. "Then we could go to war to defend the
rights of small nations!"
"But I don't quite understand," I put in, finding the conversation
getting wholly away from me. "You're talking as if war is a good thing!
Up in our world, we call it a curse!"
"A curse?" echoed all the members of Tan Trum's family. "A curse? Why,
what nonsense!" And loud was the laughter of the ladies.
"Don't let anyone here catch you saying that!" warned the Professor,
scowling severely. "If one of the Government Police overheard you,
you'd be court-martialed!"
* * * * *
Appalled at the enormity of my offense, I gaped at the Professor in
awe-stricken silence.
"There's no use talking," mused Tan Tal, shaking her head sadly,
"the savagery of the colored races is unquenchable. To think they're
actually opposed to warfare!"
"It's so unenlightened of them!" condemned Loa.
"So disgusting!" jeered Moa.
"So barbarous!" groaned Noa. "Really they must still be in the Stone
Age!"
"You see, my dear young man," explained the Professor, turning to me
not unkindly, as he observed my bewilderment, "we live in an age of
unreason. Unreason and science--these are the two features of our
life. And both of these tell us that man is a fighting animal. Biology
assures us that he was created with the instinct of aggression, which
is necessary for the sake of self-preservation; and psychology declares
that all the instincts planted in him by nature must be satisfied.
Accordingly, men must satisfy their instinct of self-preservation by
destroying one another. That fact was demonstrated long ago by the
philosophers--to question it would be heresy. So you see, my good young
friend, why it is necessary to fight?"
There was a vague suspicion in my mind that this argument, reasonable
as it seemed, might not be altogether sound; but before I had had time
to formulate any objections, Tan Tal once more lifted her voice.
"Besides, there is another reason. If we didn't fight, think of the
loss to industry! Think of all the millions invested in Mulflar Works,
and in land-battleship factories! Why, if we didn't have any war, all
this capital would be wasted."
"Yes, and my stocks in Mulflar Products, Amalgamated, would go down
to nothing!" groaned the Professor, who seemed to regard this as the
culminating argument.
Taking advantage of a gap in the conversation, I was now able to ask
the question that had long been puzzling me.
"What is the present war all about, Professor Tan Trum? What is the
issue, the principle behind it?"
"Issue? Principle behind it?" shouted Tan Trum, while the ladies
struggled to hold back a fresh outburst of laughter. "What makes you
think there is any issue, any principle behind it? We are fighting for
the national honor--and, certainly, there is no principle behind that!"
The Professor paused, energetically stroking his two-pointed beard,
glaring at me as though I had been guilty of some offense against
decency.
"There has to be an official reason for the war, of course," he
resumed, more mildly. "In this case, we were driven to our wits' end,
and couldn't think of anything better than the old Nullnull dispute."
"Nullnull dispute? What's that?"
The five chalk-faces all stared at me a little blankly, as if surprised
that there was anyone who had not heard of the Nullnull dispute.
However, the Professor condescendingly undertook to explain.
"On the borderline between Wu and Zu is the province of Nullnull. This
is composed of a series of desert caverns, a dozen miles long and about
half as wide. They say that once it was valuable land, containing
lakes and streams and rich ore deposits; but it has been so shot to
pieces that no one lives there now, and it is worthless for everything
except as a place to fly the national flag. It is therefore highly
coveted by both Wu and Zu. In the course of the last thousand years, it
has changed hands one hundred nineteen times, belonging first to one
country, and then to the other, and every time it has been recaptured
there has been an excuse for another war, for of course the citizens of
the defeated land would not be content to have Nullnull wrenched away
from them. Thus the military ardor of the citizens of both countries
has been kept at fever pitch, and we have had no trouble in advancing
our Military Birth Extension Program."
"Military Birth Extension Program?" I cried. "What under heaven is
that?"
"What do you think it is?" demanded Tan Trum, a flare of irritation in
his salmon eyes. "Exactly what the name implies! In order to keep a
war going, what do we need most of all, besides money and ammunition?
Naturally, man-power! But present-day warfare is so efficient that
man-power does not last long. It is estimated that the military
turnover is seventy-five per cent a year."
"Military turnover? And what is that?"
"Just what the term implies! The percentage of men turned over to the
ranks of the immortals."
"You mean, the percentage killed?"
* * * * *
Tan Trum and the four ladies all glared at me as though I had committed
an impiety. The Professor stroked his beard in indignation; the mouths
of Loa, Moa, and Noa all gaped wide with horror.
"Killed? Killed, young man?" thundered Tan Trum. "Never use that
word in connection with war! It is not permitted! It is illegal,
unpatriotic! No one is ever killed in war! Millions are sent to the
Blessed Caverns, or converted into deathless heroes, or become the
Unknown Warriors! But no one is ever killed! That is forbidden by law!"
"Young man," remonstrated Tan Tal, "remarks like yours are enough to
ruin military morale!"
"If we didn't know you spoke in ignorance, sir, we would have you
examined by the Intelligence Department, which would most likely have
you executed for free speech!" threatened the Professor.
After a moment, however, he seemed softened by my contrite expression;
and, regaining his good humor, continued.
"But I was going to explain about our Military Birth Extension Program.
The principle is very simple. We have introduced Birth Uncontrol, and
made it compulsory by law. The idea is that all families should have
as many children as possible--sons, so that they may go out to fight
for their country, and daughters, so that they may bear more sons to
fight for their country. All couples married for ten years or over
are required to pay a tax for every child which they have less than
seven; while, for every child after the seventh, they receive a bonus.
This system works so well that we are able to keep our population
stationary."
"Stationary?" I cried. "At that rate, it ought to double every
generation!"
"It would--except for the military turnover. As it happens, our boys
are all enlisted in the reserve corps of the army at the age of six,
and from that time forth are trained for the next war. So rigorous is
the discipline that fifty per cent never reach sixteen. This is, in
fact, one of the great merits of the system, as it ensures the survival
of the fittest. At sixteen the youths are enrolled in the active army,
and are sent to the front to face the boys of Zu. They then are offered
the hope of being permitted to retire from military life at eighteen,
if they should reach that age. But fifteen out of sixteen, in the
course of these two years, enjoy the fate of heroes and go over to the
Blessed Caverns."
I was about to comment, but refrained, for fear of breaking some penal
law.
"Besides being profitable, it is a great honor to have many children,"
continued the Professor, with zest. "Mothers are given an honorary gold
crescent for every son born to them; and fathers receive an honorary
crescent of silver. Immediately upon the death--" here Tan Trum paused,
and coughed in great embarrassment--"I mean to say, immediately upon
the turnover of a son, the mother and father each receive another
honorary crescent. It is this that makes Birth Uncontrol such a
success."
"Well, Professor, you yourself don't seem to have starred in that
line," I remarked, with a side glance at Loa, Moa, and Noa, who
surprised me by averting their eyes and sighing. "With only three
daughters to your credit--"
"Three daughters?" bellowed Tan Trum, his long black-gloved hand
shaking in uncontrollable ire. "And what, pray, of my five sons?"
"Yes, what of our five sons?" echoed Tan Tal, wiping a tear from the
corner of her eye.
"Well, what of them?" I demanded.
"They have all gone to the Blessed Caverns!" sighed the Professor.
"I have five extra crescents for the dear boys!" confided Tan Tal,
wiping a second tear from her eye. "Poor darlings! The oldest was just
seventeen when he--when he was turned over. I shall always be proud of
their record!"
"I too!" coincided Tan Trum. "It shall always be a source of melancholy
gratification to look at my five extra silver crescents, which shall
contribute to my honor forever."
"To your honor?" I cried. "Who was it, then, that died?"
"Something in me died forever when they--when they were turned over,"
he mourned, drawing up his gaunt face in a preternaturally long, solemn
expression.
* * * * *
Tan Tal, meanwhile, with all the suppressed fury of outraged
motherhood, was glaring at me as if to devour me whole. "Barbarian!"
she challenged. "What makes you think they died? They shall live
forever in our memory! They shall endure in the annals of their
country! They shall live here--here, in the shrine of my breast!"
So speaking, she smote the designated part of her anatomy a blow severe
enough to do herself physical injury.
"They shall live forever--here in the shrine of my breast!" thundered
the Professor, hitting his bony thorax a resounding smack.
Concluding that these people, though normally sane, had gone mad on
this one topic, I thought it best to change the subject. "Did you say
all the boys of Wu are enlisted in the army?" I inquired. "Are there no
exceptions?"
"I didn't say there were no exceptions," stated the Professor, assuming
a milder manner. "Naturally, there are! All sons of Second and Third
Class citizens must go to war. But sons of First Class Citizens are
exempted."
"First Class Citizens? Who are they?"
"Why, haven't I told you of our three classes? The division is an
ancient one, and is the basis of our social life. The Third Class,
which is the most numerous, is sometimes also called the Hungry Class;
its members are notable for doing most of the country's hard work, and
for being so poor that they rarely have enough to eat. The people of
this class are prohibited by law from thinking, lest thought lead them
to revolt. Above them is the Second or Sedentary Class--to which I have
the honor of belonging--its members usually have enough to eat, hence a
mild amount of thought is permissible, so long as it doesn't give birth
to free speech. But over us all is the First or Master Class, which
makes up less than one per cent of the population and owns ninety-eight
per cent of the country. This, of course, is the class that rules us."
"But I thought Dictator Thuno Flâtum ruled you."
"Thuno Flâtum is the head of the Master Class."
"Let's hope he isn't typical of them," I was on the point of declaring,
remembering this puny individual, with his artificial eyes, ears, and
breathing apparatus. But, fortunately, I held my tongue and did not
make any such treasonous remark.
"Thuno Flâtum was chosen by the Master Class as their leader,"
continued Tan Trum, "since he was considered the strongest of them
all. In other words, his senses, his legs, and his lungs were the most
atrophied."
Since this was just a bit confusing, I began to wonder if Tan Trum,
after all, were not out of his head.
"You see," he explained, "for ages the Master Class has prided itself
on its pure blood. None of its members, under pain of death, has ever
been permitted to intermarry with a Second or Third Class citizen. The
result of this long interbreeding has been a distinctive type, unlike
us low-grade people. Thanks to their lives of luxury, and to their
constant use of wheeled vehicles, the Masters have all but forgotten
how to use their legs, which have become thin and shriveled; in the
same way, since they have never filled their lungs by exercise or
labor, their breathing apparatus has almost withered away; while, since
they have rarely used their eyes or ears, these organs too have become
worthless without artificial aid. All these qualities, consequently,
are regarded as signs of superiority--or of 'green blood,' as
aristocracy is called among us; and that Master whose lungs are the
frailest, whose legs are the feeblest, and whose vision is the dimmest,
is chosen to lead the country, since the purity of his lineage is the
most unquestioned."
Being unable to understand this arrangement, which somehow did not
strike me as altogether sensible, I was so undiplomatic as to let my
doubts be known. "I don't see why the people stand for it," I blurted
out. "I don't see why they let these frail little Masters rule them,
own most of the property, and be excused from fighting, when they--"
But that was as far as I proceeded. The horrified faces of my hearers
warned me to halt. Never, I am certain, had such impious words entered
their ears before!
It was a full minute before any of them was able to find speech. "Well,
I never!" gasped Loa at length, her features more wrinkled than ever as
she made a grimace of disgust. "I didn't know we had a radical right in
our own home!"
"A poisonous radical!" cried Moa. "Who would have believed it?"
"The next thing, he'll be demanding the single standard in justice, or
some other crazy new-fashioned notion!" exclaimed Noa.
"He may even be asking honest politics!" contributed Tan Tal, glowering
at me with a resurgence of her previous indignation.
"This is serious indeed!" conceded the Professor, his long head
wagging with laconic severity. "Of course, allowances must be made
for barbarians; you can't expect to civilize them in a minute. So
I'll tell you what we'll do, folks. We'll take him down tomorrow to
the Commissioner of Public Thought, and make him swallow the Oath of
Fidelity. After that, if he makes any more disloyal statements, he will
have to take the responsibility."
"Good! Very good!" cried the ladies in chorus. "We should have done
that long ago!"
"But who's the Commissioner of Public Thought?" I inquired. "And what's
the Oath of Fidelity?"
"You'll find out, young man, after you've swallowed it!" snapped the
Professor. "And now you've had enough of my time for one day! I must
get back to my researches on the history of the comma in ancient
literature!"
So saying, the Professor glided from the room with long strides of his
great, ungainly legs, while the four ladies regarded me more than a
little coolly, like one who has betrayed a strange and criminal turn of
mind.