While the Americans were mobilizing their whole armament there occurred
the really interesting event of the war. It so happened that an
international society of scientific workers was meeting in England at
Plymouth, and a young Chinese physicist had expressed his desire to make
a report to a select committee. As he had been experimenting to find
means for the utilization of subatomic energy by the annihilation of
matter, it was with some excitement that, according to instruction, the
forty international representatives travelled to the north coast of
Devon and met upon the bare headland called Hartland Point.
It was a bright morning after rain. Eleven miles to the north-west, the
cliffs of Lundy Island displayed their markings with unusual detail.
Sea-birds wheeled about the heads of the party as they seated themselves
on their raincoats in a cluster upon the rabbit-cropped turf.
They were a remarkable company, each one of them a unique person, yet
characterized to some extent by his particular national type. And all
were distinctively ‘scientists’ of the period. Formerly this would have
implied a rather uncritical leaning towards materialism, and an
affectation of cynicism; but by now it was fashionable to profess an
equally uncritical belief that all natural phenomena were manifestations
of the cosmic mind. In both periods, when a man passed beyond the sphere
of his own serious scientific work he chose his beliefs irresponsibly,
according to his taste, much as he chose his recreation or his food.
Of the individuals present we may single out one or two for notice. The
German, an anthropologist, and a product of the long-established cult of
physical and mental health, sought to display in his own athletic person
the characters proper to Nordic man. The Frenchman, an old but still
sparkling psychologist, whose queer hobby was the collecting of weapons,
ancient and modern, regarded the proceedings with kindly cynicism. The
Englishman, one of the few remaining intellectuals of his race,
compensated for the severe study of physics by a scarcely less devoted
research into the history of English expletives and slang, delighting to
treat his colleagues to the fruits of his toil. The West African
president of the Society was a biologist, famous for his interbreeding
of man and ape.
When all were settled, the President explained the purpose of the
meeting. The utilization of subatomic energy had indeed been achieved,
and they were to be given a demonstration.
The young Mongol stood up, and produced from a case an instrument rather
like the old-fashioned rifle. Displaying this object, he spoke as
follows, with that quaintly stilted formality which had once been
characteristic of all educated Chinese. ‘Before describing the details
of my rather delicate process, I will illustrate its importance by
showing what can be done with the finished product. Not only can I
initiate the annihilation of matter, but also I can do so at a distance
and in a precise direction. Moreover, I can inhibit the process. As a
means of destruction, my instrument is perfect. As a source of power for
the constructive work of mankind, it has unlimited potentiality.
Gentlemen, this is a great moment in the history of Man. I am about to
render into the hands of organized intelligence the means to stop for
ever man’s internecine brawls. Henceforth this great Society, of which
you are the _élite_, will beneficently rule the planet. With this little
instrument you will stop the ridiculous war; and with another, which I
shall soon perfect, you will dispense unlimited industrial power
wherever you consider it needed. Gentlemen, with the aid of this handy
instrument which I have the honour to demonstrate, you are about to
become absolute masters of this planet.’
Here the representative of England muttered an archaism whose
significance was known only to himself, ‘Gawd ’elp us!’ In the minds of
some of those foreigners who were not physicists this quaint expression
was taken to be a technical word having some connexion with the new
source of energy.
The Mongol continued. Turning towards Lundy, he said, ‘That island is no
longer inhabited, and as it is something of a danger to shipping, I will
remove it.’ So saying he aimed his instrument at the distant cliff, but
continued speaking. ‘This trigger will stimulate the ultimate positive
and negative charges which constitute the atoms at a certain point on
the rock-face to annihilate each other. These stimulated atoms will
infect their neighbours, and so on indefinitely. This second trigger,
however, will stop the actual annihilation. Were I to refrain from using
it, the process would indeed continue indefinitely, perhaps until the
whole of the planet had disintegrated.’
There was an anxious movement among the spectators, but the young man
took careful aim, and pressed the two triggers in quick succession. No
sound from the instrument. No visible effect upon the smiling face of
the island. Laughter began to gurgle from the Englishman, but ceased.
For a dazzling point of light appeared on the remote cliff. It increased
in size and brilliance, till all eyes were blinded in the effort to
continue watching. It lit up the under parts of the clouds and blotted
out the sun-cast shadows of gorse bushes beside the spectators. The
whole end of the island facing the mainland was now an intolerable
scorching sun. Presently, however, its fury was veiled in clouds of
steam from the boiling sea. Then suddenly the whole island, three miles
of solid granite, leapt asunder; so that a covey of great rocks soared
heavenwards, and beneath them swelled more slowly a gigantic mushroom of
steam and debris. Then the sound arrived. All hands were clapped to
ears, while eyes still strained to watch the bay, pocked white with the
hail of rocks. Meanwhile a great wall of sea advanced from the centre of
turmoil. This was seen to engulf a coasting vessel, and pass on towards
Bideford and Barnstaple.
The spectators leaped to their feet and clamoured, while the young
author of this fury watched the spectacle with exultation, and some
surprise at the magnitude of these mere after-effects of his process.
The meeting was now adjourned to a neighbouring chapel to hear the
report of the research. As the representatives were filing through the
door it was observed that the steam and smoke had cleared, and that open
sea extended where had been Lundy. Within the chapel, the great Bible
was decorously removed and the windows thrown open, to dispel somewhat
the odour of sanctity. For though the early and spiritual
interpretations of relativity and the quantum theory had by now
accustomed men of science to pay their respects to the religions, many
of them were still liable to a certain asphyxia when they were actually
within the precincts of sanctity. When the scientists had settled
themselves upon the archaic and unyielding benches, the President
explained that the chapel authorities had kindly permitted this meeting
because they realized that, since men of science had gradually
discovered the spiritual foundation of physics, science and religion
must henceforth be close allies. Moreover the purpose of this meeting
was to discuss one of those supreme mysteries which it was the glory of
science to discover and religion to transfigure. The President then
complimented the young dispenser of power upon his triumph, and called
upon him to address the meeting.
At this point, however, the aged representative of France intervened,
and was granted a hearing. Born almost a hundred and forty years
earlier, and preserved more by native intensity of spirit than by the
artifices of the regenerator, this ancient seemed to speak out of a
remote and wiser epoch. For in a declining civilization it is often the
old who see furthest and see with youngest eyes. He concluded a rather
long, rhetorical, yet closely reasoned speech as follows: ‘No doubt we
are the intelligence of the planet; and because of our consecration to
our calling, no doubt we are comparatively honest. But alas, even we are
human. We make little mistakes now and then, and commit little
indiscretions. The possession of such power as is offered us would not
bring peace. On the contrary it would perpetuate our national hates. It
would throw the world into confusion. It would undermine our own
integrity, and turn us into tyrants. Moreover it would ruin science.
And—well, when at last through some little error the world got blown
up, the disaster would not be regrettable. I know that Europe is almost
certainly about to be destroyed by those vigorous but rather spoilt
children across the Atlantic. But distressing as this must be, the
alternative is far worse. No, Sir! Your very wonderful toy would be a
gift for developed minds; but for us, who are still barbarians—no, it
must not be. And so, with deep regret I beg you to destroy your
handiwork, and, if it were possible, your memory of your marvellous
research. But above all breathe no word of your process to us, or to any
man.’
The German then protested that to refuse would be cowardly. He briefly
described his vision of a world organized under organized science, and
inspired by a scientifically organized religious dogma. ‘Surely,’ he
said, ‘to refuse were to refuse the gift of God, of that God whose
presence in the humblest quantum we have so recently and so surprisingly
revealed.’ Other speakers followed, for and against; but it soon grew
clear that wisdom would prevail. Men of science were by now definitely
cosmopolitan in sentiment. Indeed so far were they from nationalism,
that on this occasion the representative of America had urged acceptance
of the weapon, although it would be used against his own countrymen.
Finally, however, and actually by a unanimous vote, the meeting, while
recording its deep respect for the Chinese scientists, requested, nay
ordered, that the instrument and all account of it should be destroyed.
The young man rose, drew his handiwork from its case, and fingered it.
So long did he remain thus standing in silence with eyes fixed on the
instrument, that the meeting became restless. At last, however, he
spoke. ‘I shall abide by the decision of the meeting. Well, it is hard
to destroy the fruit of ten years’ work, and such fruit, too. I expected
to have the gratitude of mankind; but instead I am an outcast.’ Once
more he paused. Gazing out of the window, he now drew from his pocket a
field-glass, and studied the western sky. ‘Yes, they are American.
Gentlemen, the American air fleet approaches.’
The company leapt to its feet and crowded to the windows. High in the
west a sparse line of dots stretched indefinitely into the north and the
south. Said the Englishman, ‘For God’s sake use your damned tool once
more, or England’s done. They must have smashed our fellows over the
Atlantic.’
The Chinese scientist turned his eyes on the President. There was a
general cry of ‘Stop them’. Only the Frenchman protested. The
representative of the United States raised his voice and said, ‘They are
my people, I have friends up there in the sky. My own boy is probably
there. But they’re mad. They want to do something hideous. They’re in
the lynching mood. Stop them.’ The Mongol still gazed at the President,
who nodded. The Frenchman broke down in senile tears. Then the young
man, leaning upon the window sill, took careful aim at each black dot in
turn. One by one, each became a blinding star, then vanished. In the
chapel, a long silence. Then whispers; and glances at the Chinese
scientist, expressive of anxiety and dislike.
There followed a hurried ceremony in a neighbouring field. A fire was
lit. The instrument and the no less murderous manuscript were burnt. And
then the grave young Mongol, having insisted on shaking hands all round,
said, ‘With my secret alive in me, I must not live. Some day a more
worthy race will rediscover it, but today I am a danger to the planet.
And so I, who have foolishly ignored that I live among savages, help
myself now by the ancient wisdom to pass hence.’ So saying, he fell
dead.