The Decision
: The Highest ... TreasonColonel Sebastian MacMaine didn't feel, that morning, as though this
day were different from any other. The sun, faintly veiled by a few
wisps of cloud, shone as it always had; the guards at the doors of the
Space Force Administration Building saluted him as usual; his brother
officers nodded politely, as they always did; his aide greeted him with
the usual "Good morning, sir."
The duty list lay on his de
Sebastian MacMaine felt tense and a little irritated with himself, but
he felt nothing that could be called a premonition.
When he read the first item on the duty list, his irritation became a
little stronger.
"Interrogate Kerothi general."
The interrogation duty had swung round to him again. He didn't want to
talk to General Tallis. There was something about the alien that
bothered him, and he couldn't place exactly what it was.
Earth had been lucky to capture the alien officer. In a space war,
there's usually very little left to capture after a battle--especially
if your side lost the battle.
On the other hand, the Kerothi general wasn't so lucky. The food that
had been captured with him would run out in less than six months, and
it was doubtful that he would survive on Earth food. It was equally
doubtful that any more Kerothi food would be captured.
For two years, Earth had been fighting the Kerothi, and for two years
Earth had been winning a few minor skirmishes and losing the major
battles. The Kerothi hadn't hit any of the major colonies yet, but they
had swallowed up outpost after outpost, and Earth's space fleet was
losing ships faster than her factories could turn them out. The hell of
it was that nobody on Earth seemed to be very much concerned about it
at all.
MacMaine wondered why he let it concern him. If no one else was
worried, why did he let it bother him? He pushed the thought from his
mind and picked up the questionnaire form that had been made out for
that morning's session with the Kerothi general. Might as well get it
over with.
He glanced down the list of further duties for the day. It looked as
though the routine interrogation of the Kerothi general was likely to
provide most of the interest in the day's work at that.
He took the dropchute down to the basement of the building, to the
small prison section where the alien officer was being held. The guards
saluted nonchalantly as he went in. The routine questioning sessions
were nothing new to them.
MacMaine turned the lock on the prisoner's cell door and went in. Then
he came to attention and saluted the Kerothi general. He was probably
the only officer in the place who did that, he knew; the others treated
the alien general as though he were a criminal. Worse, they treated him
as though he were a petty thief or a common pickpocket--criminal, yes,
but of a definitely inferior type.
General Tallis, as always, stood and returned the salute. "Cut mawnik,
Cunnel MacMaine," he said. The Kerothi language lacked many of the
voiced consonants of English and Russian, and, as a result, Tallis' use
of B, D, G, J, V, and Z made them come out as P,
T, K, CH, F, and S. The English R, as it is
pronounced in run or rat, eluded him entirely, and he pronounced
it only when he could give it the guttural pronunciation of the German
R. The terminal NG always came out as NK. The nasal M and
N were a little more drawn out than in English, but they were easily
understandable.
* * * * *
"Good morning, General Tallis," MacMaine said. "Sit down. How do you
feel this morning?"
The general sat again on the hard bunk that, aside from the single
chair, was the only furniture in the small cell. "Ass well ass coot pe
expectet. I ket ferry little exercisse. I ... how iss it set? ... I
pecome soft? Soft? Iss correct?"
"Correct. You've learned our language very well for so short a time."
The general shrugged off the compliment. "Wen it iss a matteh of learrn
in orrter to surfife, one learrnss."
"You think, then, that your survival has depended on your learning our
language?"
The general's orange face contrived a wry smile. "Opfiously. Your
people fill not learn Kerothic. If I cannot answerr questionss, I am
uff no use. Ass lonk ass I am uff use, I will liff. Not?"
MacMaine decided he might as well spring his bomb on the Kerothi
officer now as later. "I am not so certain but that you might have
stretched out your time longer if you had forced us to learn Kerothic,
general," he said in Kerothic. He knew his Kerothic was bad, since it
had been learned from the Kerothi spaceman who had been captured with
the general, and the man had been badly wounded and had survived only
two weeks. But that little bit of basic instruction, plus the work he
had done on the books and tapes from the ruined Kerothi ship, had
helped him.
"Ah?" The general blinked in surprise. Then he smiled. "Your accent,"
he said in Kerothic, "is atrocious, but certainly no worse than mine
when I speak your Inklitch. I suppose you intend to question me in
Kerothic now, eh? In the hope that I may reveal more in my own tongue?"
"Possibly you may," MacMaine said with a grin, "but I learned it for my
own information."
"For your own what? Oh. I see. Interesting. I know no others of your
race who would do such a thing. Anything which is difficult is beneath
them."
"Not so, general. I'm not unique. There are many of us who don't think
that way."
The general shrugged. "I do not deny it. I merely say that I have met
none. Certainly they do not tend to go into military service. Possibly
that is because you are not a race of fighters. It takes a fighter to
tackle the difficult just because it is difficult."
MacMaine gave him a short, hard laugh. "Don't you think getting
information out of you is difficult? And yet, we tackle that."
"Not the same thing at all. Routine. You have used no pressure. No
threats, no promises, no torture, no stress."
MacMaine wasn't quite sure of his translation of the last two negative
phrases. "You mean the application of physical pain? That's barbaric."
"I won't pursue the subject," the general said with sudden irony.
"I can understand that. But you can rest assured that we would never do
such a thing. It isn't civilized. Our civil police do use certain drugs
to obtain information, but we have so little knowledge of Kerothi body
chemistry that we hesitate to use drugs on you."
"The application of stress, you say, is not civilized. Not, perhaps,
according to your definition of"--he used the English word--"cifiliced.
No. Not cifiliced--but it works." Again he smiled. "I said that I have
become soft since I have been here, but I fear that your civilization
is even softer."
"A man can lie, even if his arms are pulled off or his feet crushed,"
MacMaine said stiffly.
The Kerothi looked startled. When he spoke again, it was in English. "I
will say no morr. If you haff questionss to ask, ko ahet. I will not
take up time with furtherr talkink."
A little angry with himself and with the general, MacMaine spent the
rest of the hour asking routine questions and getting nowhere, filling
up the tape in his minicorder with the same old answers that others had
gotten.
He left, giving the general a brisk salute and turning before the
general had time to return it.
Back in his office, he filed the tape dutifully and started on Item Two
of the duty list: Strategy Analysis of Battle Reports.
Strategy analysis always irritated and upset him. He knew that if he'd
just go about it in the approved way, there would be no
irritation--only boredom. But he was constitutionally incapable of
working that way. In spite of himself, he always played a little game
with himself and with the General Strategy Computer.
The only battle of significance in the past week had been the defense
of an Earth outpost called Bennington IV. Theoretically, MacMaine was
supposed to check over the entire report, find out where the losing
side had erred, and feed correctional information into the Computer.
But he couldn't resist stopping after he had read the first section:
Information Known to Earth Commander at Moment of Initial Contact.
Then he would stop and consider how he, personally, would have handled
the situation if he had been the Earth commander. So many ships in
such-and-such places. Enemy fleet approaching at such-and-such
velocities. Battle array of enemy thus-and-so.
Now what?
MacMaine thought over the information on the defense of Bennington IV
and devised a battle plan. There was a weak point in the enemy's
attack, but it was rather obvious. MacMaine searched until he found
another weak point, much less obvious than the first. He knew it would
be there. It was.
Then he proceeded to ignore both weak points and concentrate on what he
would do if he were the enemy commander. The weak points were traps;
the computer could see them and avoid them. Which was just exactly what
was wrong with the computer's logic. In avoiding the traps, it also
avoided the best way to hit the enemy. A weak point is weak, no
matter how well it may be booby-trapped. In baiting a rat trap, you
have to use real cheese because an imitation won't work.
Of course, MacMaine thought to himself, you can always poison the
cheese, but let's not carry the analogy too far.
All right, then. How to hit the traps?
* * * * *
It took him half an hour to devise a completely wacky and unorthodox
way of hitting the holes in the enemy advance. He checked the time
carefully, because there's no point in devising a strategy if the
battle is too far gone to use it by the time you've figured it out.
Then he went ahead and read the rest of the report. Earth had lost the
outpost. And, worse, MacMaine's strategy would have won the battle if
it had been used. He fed it through his small office computer to make
sure. The odds were good.
And that was the thing that made MacMaine hate Strategy Analysis. Too
often, he won; too often, Earth lost. A computer was fine for working
out the logical outcome of a battle if it was given the proper
strategy, but it couldn't devise anything new.
Colonel MacMaine had tried to get himself transferred to space duty,
but without success. The Commanding Staff didn't want him out there.
The trouble was that they didn't believe MacMaine actually devised his
strategy before he read the complete report. How could anyone out-think
a computer?
He'd offered to prove it. "Give me a problem," he'd told his immediate
superior, General Matsukuo. "Give me the Initial Contact information of
a battle I haven't seen before, and I'll show you."
And Matsukuo had said, testily: "Colonel, I will not permit a member of
my staff to make a fool of himself in front of the Commanding Staff.
Setting yourself up as someone superior to the Strategy Board is the
most antisocial type of egocentrism imaginable. You were given the same
education at the Academy as every other officer; what makes you think
you are better than they? As time goes on, your automatic promotions
will put you in a position to vote on such matters--provided you don't
prejudice the Promotion Board against you by antisocial behavior. I
hold you in the highest regard, colonel, and I will say nothing to the
Promotion Board about this, but if you persist I will have to do my
duty. Now, I don't want to hear any more about it. Is that clear?"
It was.
All MacMaine had to do was wait, and he'd automatically be promoted to
the Commanding Staff, where he would have an equal vote with the others
of his rank. One unit vote to begin with and an additional unit for
every year thereafter.
It's a great system for running a peacetime social club, maybe,
MacMaine thought, but it's no way to run a fighting force.
Maybe the Kerothi general was right. Maybe homo sapiens just wasn't
a race of fighters.
They had been once. Mankind had fought its way to domination of Earth
by battling every other form of life on the planet, from the smallest
virus to the biggest carnivore. The fight against disease was still
going on, as a matter of fact, and Man was still fighting the elemental
fury of Earth's climate.
But Man no longer fought with Man. Was that a bad thing? The discovery
of atomic energy, two centuries before, had literally made war
impossible, if the race was to survive. Small struggles bred bigger
struggles--or so the reasoning went. Therefore, the society had
unconsciously sought to eliminate the reasons for struggle.
What bred the hatreds and jealousies among men? What caused one group
to fight another?
Society had decided that intolerance and hatred were caused by
inequality. The jealousy of the inferior toward his superior; the scorn
of the superior toward his inferior. The Have-not envies the Have, and
the Have looks down upon the Have-not.
Then let us eliminate the Have-not. Let us make sure that everyone is a
Have.
Raise the standard of living. Make sure that every human being has the
necessities of life--food, clothing, shelter, proper medical care, and
proper education. More, give them the luxuries, too--let no man be
without anything that is poorer in quality or less in quantity than the
possessions of any other. There was no longer any middle class simply
because there were no other classes for it to be in the middle of.
"The poor you will have always with you," Jesus of Nazareth had said.
But, in a material sense, that was no longer true. The poor were
gone--and so were the rich.
But the poor in mind and the poor in spirit were still there--in
ever-increasing numbers.
Material wealth could be evenly distributed, but it could not remain
that way unless Society made sure that the man who was more clever than
the rest could not increase his wealth at the expense of his less
fortunate brethren.
Make it a social stigma to show more ability than the average. Be kind
to your fellow man; don't show him up as a stupid clod, no matter how
cloddish he may be.
All men are created equal, and let's make sure they stay that way!
* * * * *
There could be no such thing as a classless society, of course. That
was easily seen. No human being could do everything, learn everything,
be everything. There had to be doctors and lawyers and policemen and
bartenders and soldiers and machinists and laborers and actors and
writers and criminals and bums.
But let's make sure that the differentiation between classes is
horizontal, not vertical. As long as a person does his job the best he
can, he's as good as anybody else. A doctor is as good as a lawyer,
isn't he? Then a garbage collector is just as good as a nuclear
physicist, and an astronomer is no better than a street sweeper.
And what of the loafer, the bum, the man who's too lazy or weak-willed
to put out any more effort than is absolutely necessary to stay alive?
Well, my goodness, the poor chap can't help it, can he? It isn't
his fault, is it? He has to be helped. There is always something he
is both capable of doing and willing to do. Does he like to sit around
all day and do nothing but watch television? Then give him a sheet of
paper with all the programs on it and two little boxes marked Yes and
No, and he can put an X in one or the other to indicate whether he
likes the program or not. Useful? Certainly. All these sheets can be
tallied up in order to find out what sort of program the public likes
to see. After all, his vote is just as good as anyone else's, isn't it?
And a Program Analyst is just as good, just as important, and just as
well cared-for as anyone else.
And what about the criminal? Well, what is a criminal? A person who
thinks he's superior to others. A thief steals because he thinks he has
more right to something than its real owner. A man kills because he has
an idea that he has a better right to live than someone else. In short,
a man breaks the law because he feels superior, because he thinks he
can outsmart Society and The Law. Or, simply, because he thinks he can
outsmart the policeman on the beat.
Obviously, that sort of antisocial behavior can't be allowed. The poor
fellow who thinks he's better than anyone else has to be segregated
from normal society and treated for his aberrations. But not punished!
Heavens no! His erratic behavior isn't his fault, is it?
It was axiomatic that there had to be some sort of vertical structure
to society, naturally. A child can't do the work of an adult, and a
beginner can't be as good as an old hand. Aside from the fact that it
was actually impossible to force everyone into a common mold, it was
recognized that there had to be some incentive for staying with a job.
What to do?
The labor unions had solved that problem two hundred years before.
Promotion by seniority. Stick with a job long enough, and you'll
automatically rise to the top. That way, everyone had as good a chance
as everyone else.
Promotion tables for individual jobs were worked out on the basis of
longevity tables, so that by the time a man reached the automatic
retirement age he was automatically at the highest position he could
hold. No fuss, no bother, no trouble. Just keep your nose clean and
live as long as possible.
It eliminated struggle. It eliminated the petty jockeying for position
that undermined efficiency in an organization. Everybody deserves an
equal chance in life, so make sure everybody gets it.
Colonel Sebastian MacMaine had been born and reared in that society. He
could see many of its faults, but he didn't have the orientation to see
all of them. As he'd grown older, he'd seen that, regardless of the
position a man held according to seniority, a smart man could exercise
more power than those above him if he did it carefully.
A man is a slave if he is held rigidly in a pattern and not permitted
to step out of that pattern. In ancient times, a slave was born at the
bottom of the social ladder, and he remained there all his life. Only
rarely did a slave of exceptional merit manage to rise above his
assigned position.
But a man who is forced to remain on the bottom step of a stationary
stairway is no more a slave than a man who is forced to remain on a
given step of an escalator, and no less so.
Slavery, however, has two advantages--one for the individual, and one
which, in the long run, can be good for the race. For the individual,
it offers security, and that is the goal which by far the greater
majority of mankind seeks.
The second advantage is more difficult to see. It operates only in
favor of the exceptional individual. There are always individuals who
aspire to greater heights than the one they occupy at any given moment,
but in a slave society, they are slapped back into place if they act
hastily. Just as the one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind can be
king if he taps the ground with a cane, so the gifted individual can
gain his ends in a slave society--provided he thinks out the
consequences of any act in advance.
The Law of Gravity is a universal edict which enslaves, in a sense,
every particle of matter in the cosmos. The man who attempts to defy
the "injustice" of that law by ignoring the consequences of its
enforcement will find himself punished rather severely. It may be
unjust that a bird can fly under its own muscle power, but a man who
tries to correct that injustice by leaping out of a skyscraper window
and flapping his arms vigorously will find that overt defiance of the
Law of Gravity brings very serious penalties indeed. The wise man seeks
the loopholes in the law, and loopholes are caused by other laws which
counteract--not defy!--the given law. A balloon full of hydrogen
"falls up" in obedience to the Law of Gravity. A contradiction? A
paradox? No. It is the Law of Gravity which causes the density and
pressure of a planet's atmosphere to decrease with altitude, and that
decrease in pressure forces the balloon upwards until the balance point
between atmospheric density and the internal density of the balloon is
reached.
The illustration may seem obvious and elementary to the modern man, but
it seems so only because he understands, at least to some extent, the
laws involved. It was not obvious to even the most learned man of, say,
the Thirteenth Century.
* * * * *
Slavery, too, has its laws, and it is as dangerous to defy the laws of
a society as it is to defy those of nature, and the only way to escape
the punishment resulting from those laws is to find the loopholes. One
of the most basic laws of any society is so basic that it is never,
ever written down.
And that law, like all basic laws, is so simple in expression and so
obvious in application that any man above the moron level has an
intuitive grasp of it. It is the first law one learns as a child.
Thou shall not suffer thyself to be caught.
The unthinking man believes that this basic law can be applied by
breaking the laws of his society in secret. What he fails to see is
that such lawbreaking requires such a fantastic network of lies,
subterfuges, evasions, and chicanery that the structure itself
eventually breaks down and his guilt is obvious to all. The very steps
he has taken to keep from getting caught eventually become signposts
that point unerringly at the lawbreaker himself.
Like the loopholes in the law of gravity, the loopholes in the laws of
society can not entail a defiance of the law. Only compliance with
those laws will be ultimately successful.
The wise man works within the framework of the law--not only the
written, but the unwritten law--of his society. In a slave society, any
slave who openly rebels will find that he gets squashed pretty quickly.
But many a slave-owner has danced willingly to the tune of a slave who
was wiser and cleverer than he, without ever knowing that the tune
played was not his own.
And that is the second advantage of slavery. It teaches the exceptional
individual to think.
When a wise, intelligent individual openly and violently breaks the
laws of his society, there are two things which are almost certain:
One: he knows that there is no other way to do the thing he feels must
be done, and--
Two: he knows that he will pay the penalty for his crime in one way or
another.
Sebastian MacMaine knew the operations of those laws. As a member of a
self-enslaved society, he knew that to betray any sign of intelligence
was dangerous. A slight slip could bring the scorn of the slaves around
him; a major offense could mean death. The war with Keroth had thrown
him slightly off balance, but after his one experience with General
Matsukuo, he had quickly regained his equilibrium.
At the end of his work day, MacMaine closed his desk and left his
office precisely on time, as usual. Working overtime, except in the
gravest emergencies, was looked upon as antisocialism. The offender was
suspected of having Ambition--obviously a Bad Thing.
* * * * *
It was during his meal at the Officers' Mess that Colonel Sebastian
MacMaine heard the statement that triggered the decision in his mind.
There were three other officers seated with MacMaine around one of the
four-place tables in the big room. MacMaine only paid enough attention
to the table conversation to be able to make the appropriate noises at
the proper times. He had long since learned to do his thinking under
cover of general banalities.
Colonel VanDeusen was a man who would never have made Private First
Class in an army that operated on a strict merit system. His thinking
was muddy, and his conversation betrayed it. All he felt comfortable in
talking about was just exactly what he had been taught. Slogans,
banalities, and bromides. He knew his catechism, and he knew it was
safe.
"What I mean is, we got nothing to worry about. We all stick together,
and we can do anything. As long as we don't rock the boat, we'll come
through O.K."
"Sure," said Major Brock, looking up from his plate in blank-faced
surprise. "I mean, who says different?"
"Guy on my research team," said VanDeusen, plying his fork
industriously. "A wise-guy second looie. One of them."
"Oh," said the major knowingly. "One of them." He went back to his
meal.
"What'd he say?" MacMaine asked, just to keep his oar in.
"Ahhh, nothing serious, I guess," said VanDeusen, around a mouthful of
steak. "Said we were all clogged up with paper work, makin' reports on
tests, things like that. Said, why don't we figure out something to pop
those Carrot-skins outa the sky. So I said to him, 'Look, Lootenant,' I
said, 'you got your job to do, I got mine. If the paper work's pilin'
up,' I said, 'it's because somebody isn't pulling his share. And it
better not be you,' I said." He chuckled and speared another cube of
steak with his fork. "That settled him down. He's all right, though.
Young yet, you know. Soon's he gets the hang of how the Space Force
operates, he'll be O.K."
Since VanDeusen was the senior officer at the table, the others
listened respectfully as he talked, only inserting a word now and then
to show that they were listening.
MacMaine was thinking deeply about something else entirely, but
VanDeusen's influence intruded a little. MacMaine was wondering what it
was that bothered him about General Tallis, the Kerothi prisoner.
The alien was pleasant enough, in spite of his position. He seemed to
accept his imprisonment as one of the fortunes of war. He didn't
threaten or bluster, although he tended to maintain an air of
superiority that would have been unbearable in an Earthman.
Was that the reason for his uneasiness in the general's presence? No.
MacMaine could accept the reason for that attitude; the general's
background was different from that of an Earthman, and therefore he
could not be judged by Terrestrial standards. Besides, MacMaine could
acknowledge to himself that Tallis was superior to the norm--not only
the norm of Keroth, but that of Earth. MacMaine wasn't sure he could
have acknowledged superiority in another Earthman, in spite of the fact
that he knew that there must be men who were his superiors in one way
or another.
Because of his social background, he knew that he would probably form
an intense and instant dislike for any Earthman who talked the way
Tallis did, but he found that he actually liked the alien officer.
It came as a slight shock when the realization hit MacMaine that his
liking for the general was exactly why he was uncomfortable around him.
Dammit, a man isn't supposed to like his enemy--and most especially
when that enemy does and says things that one would despise in a
friend.
Come to think of it, though, did he, MacMaine, actually have any
friends? He looked around him, suddenly clearly conscious of the other
men in the room. He searched through his memory, thinking of all his
acquaintances and relatives.
It was an even greater shock to realize that he would not be more than
faintly touched emotionally if any or all of them were to die at that
instant. Even his parents, both of whom were now dead, were only dim
figures in his memory. He had mourned them when an aircraft accident
had taken both of them when he was only eleven, but he found himself
wondering if it had been the loss of loved ones that had caused his
emotional upset or simply the abrupt vanishing of a kind of security he
had taken for granted.
And yet, he felt that the death of General Polan Tallis would leave an
empty place in his life.
Colonel VanDeusen was still holding forth.
"... So I told him. I said, 'Look, Lootenant,' I said, 'don't rock the
boat. You're a kid yet, you know,' I said. 'You got equal rights with
everybody else,' I said, 'but if you rock the boat, you aren't gonna
get along so well.'
"'You just behave yourself,' I said, 'and pull your share of the load
and do your job right and keep your nose clean, and you'll come out all
right.
"'Time I get to be on the General Staff,' I told him, 'why, you'll be
takin' over my job, maybe. That's the way it works,' I said.
"He's a good kid. I mean, he's a fresh young punk, that's all. He'll
learn, O.K. He'll climb right up, once he's got the right attitude.
Why, when I was----"
But MacMaine was no longer listening. It was astonishing to realize
that what VanDeusen had said was perfectly true. A blockhead like
VanDeusen would simply be lifted to a position of higher authority,
only to be replaced by another blockhead. There would be no essential
change in the status quo.
The Kerothi were winning steadily, and the people of Earth and her
colonies were making no changes whatever in their way of living. The
majority of people were too blind to be able to see what was happening,
and the rest were afraid to admit the danger, even to themselves. It
required no great understanding of strategy to see what the inevitable
outcome must be.
At some point in the last few centuries, human civilization had taken
the wrong path--a path that led only to oblivion.
It was at that moment that Colonel Sebastian MacMaine made his
decision.
More
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Had the casting succeeded? They were reduced to mere conjecture. There was indeed every reason to expect success, since the mould has absorbed the entire mass of the molten metal; still some considerable time must elapse before they could arrive ... The Coming Of The Food
I. Our theme, which began so compactly in Mr. Bensington's study, has already spread and branched, until it points this way and that, and henceforth our whole story is one of dissemination. To follow the Food of the Gods further is to trace the... The Coming Of The Ice
It is strange to be alone, and so cold. To be the last man on earth.... The snow drives silently about me, ceaselessly, drearily. And I am isolated in this tiny white, indistinguishable corner of a blurred world, surely the loneliest creature in t... The Coming Of The Light
The first of the new meteors landed on the earth in November, 1940. It was discovered by a farmer in his field near Brookline, Massachusetts, shortly after daybreak on the morning of the 11th. Astronomically, the event was recorded by the observat... The Coming Of The Shining One
The Norseman turned toward us. There was now no madness in his eyes; only a great weariness. And there was peace on the once tortured face. "Helma," he whispered, "I go a little before! Soon you will come to me--to me and the Yndling who will aw... The Coming Of The Soldiers
For a moment Jim was handicapped in fleetness and agility by the fact that his arms were hampered. But the two hideous guards, though each was a dozen times more powerful than any man its size, were handicapped in a chase, too--by the very weight ... The Coming Of Yolara
"Never was there such a girl!" Thus Larry, dreamily, leaning head in hand on one of the wide divans of the chamber where Lakla had left us, pleading service to the Silent Ones. "An', by the faith and the honour of the O'Keefes, an' by my dead mot... The Common Man
It would, of course, take a trio of Ivory Tower scientists to conceive of tracking down that statistical entity, the Common Man, and testing out an idea on him. And only the Ivory Tower type would predict that egregiously wrongly! F... The Cone
The night was hot and overcast, the sky red, rimmed with the lingering sunset of mid-summer. They sat at the open window, trying to fancy the air was fresher there. The trees and shrubs of the garden stood stiff and dark; beyond in the roadway a g... The Consequences Of A Deviation
Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at least as far as the projectile's impulsive force was concerned; its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral line; it would certainly not return to earth; it would certainly not remain ... The Coral Kingdom
The next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To my great surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, no doubt, had been reinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I. Of what had passed during the night they were ... The Cosmic Express
The year 1928 was a great year of discovery for AMAZING STORIES. They were uncovering new talent at such a great rate, (Harl Vincent, David H. Keller, E. E. Smith, Philip Francis Nowlan, Fletcher Pratt and Miles J. Breuer), that Jack Wi... The Council Of State
It was a brilliant assemblage of high dignitaries and military officers that had gathered in the Imperial Winter Palace at St. Petersburg. Of the influential personages, who, by reason of their official position or their personal relations to the ru... The Count Steps Over The Line
The Silver Cloud's crew, if we may so term it, had busied themselves in various ways, according to their several dispositions and bents of mind. Dr. Jones was occupied more or less of the time with the invalids, who came to him from far and wide. ... The Counter-attack
The news which caused me to change my plans was grave enough. As I have explained, the American lines lay roughly to the east and the south of the city in the mountains. My own Gang held the northern flank of the east line. To the south of us was ... The Country Of The Blind
Three hundred miles and more from Chimborazo, one hundred from the snows of Cotopaxi, in the wildest wastes of Ecuador's Andes, there lies that mysterious mountain valley, cut off from all the world of men, the Country of the Blind. Long years ago ... The Court-martial
The mausoleum of Anar Kali, a great octagonal building in the gardens to the south of the town, was the place whither the Russian prisoners were taken. Heideck and Edith Irwin were not the first that had found quarters there; for, besides about a ... The Crimson Sea
I was in the heart of a rose pearl, swinging, swinging; no, I was in a rosy dawn cloud, pendulous in space. Consciousness flooded me, in reality I was in the arms of one of the man frogs, carrying me as though I were a babe, and we were passing thro... The Crying Of The Man
AS I drew near the house I saw that the light shone from the open door of my room; and then I heard coming from out of the darkness at the side of that orange oblong of light, the voice of Montgomery shouting, "Prendick!" I continued running. Pr... The Crying Of The Puma
MONTGOMERY interrupted my tangle of mystification and suspicion about one o'clock, and his grotesque attendant followed him with a tray bearing bread, some herbs and other eatables, a flask of whiskey, a jug of water, and three glasses and knives.... The Crystal Egg
There was, until a year ago, a little and very grimy-looking shop near Seven Dials, over which, in weather-worn yellow lettering, the name of "C. Cave, Naturalist and Dealer in Antiquities," was inscribed. The contents of its window were curi... The Cylinder Opens
When I returned to the common the sun was setting. Scattered groups were hurrying from the direction of Woking, and one or two persons were returning. The crowd about the pit had increased, and stood out black against the lemon yellow of th... The Dark Nebula
Years melted into the past, centuries, aeons. The light of the incandescent star, sank to a furious red. It was later, that I saw the dark nebula--at first, an impalpable cloud, away to my right. It grew, steadily, to a clot of blackness in the n... The Dark Sun
How long our souls lay in the arms of joy, I cannot say; but, all at once, I was waked from my happiness, by a diminution of the pale and gentle light that lit the Sea of Sleep. I turned toward the huge, white orb, with a premonition of coming troub... The Days Of Imprisonment
The arrival of a second fighting-machine drove us from our peephole into the scullery, for we feared that from his elevation the Martian might see down upon us behind our barrier. At a later date we began to feel less in danger of their eyes... The Dead Immortal
When I reached home, Sarakoff was out. He had left a message to say he would not be in until after midnight, as he was going to hear Leonora sing at the opera, and purposed to take her to supper afterwards. Dinner was therefore a solitary meal for... The Deadly Daughters
These gorgeous fanatics were equally at home with men, murder, or matrimony, and they used all three with amazing success. Dr. Hubert Long, 40, bachelor and assistant professor of political science at Mentioch University, thrust his ru... The Death Of The Curate
It was on the sixth day of our imprisonment that I peeped for the last time, and presently found myself alone. Instead of keeping close to me and trying to oust me from the slit, the curate had gone back into the scullery. I was struck by a... The Death Sentence
A few moments before the appointed time on the following morning a strong guard of Zat Arras' officers appeared at our quarters to conduct us to the great hall of the temple. In twos we entered the chamber and marched down the broad Aisle of Ho... The Decision
Colonel Sebastian MacMaine didn't feel, that morning, as though this day were different from any other. The sun, faintly veiled by a few wisps of cloud, shone as it always had; the guards at the doors of the Space Force Administration Building sal... The Declaration Of War
The capital city of the Fenachrone lay in a jungle plain surrounded by towering hills. A perfect circle of immense diameter, its buildings of uniform height, of identical design, and constructed of the same dull gray, translucent metal, were arran... The Delegate From Venus
Everybody was waiting to see what the delegate from Venus looked like. And all they got for their patience was the biggest surprise since David clobbered Goliath. "Let me put it this way," Conners said paternally. "We expect a cert... The Depths Of Omean
Now I realized why the black pirate had kept me engrossed with his strange tale. For miles he had sensed the approach of succour, and but for that single tell-tale glance the battleship would have been directly above us in another moment, and the... The Destroyers
Anketam stretched his arms out as though he were trying to embrace the whole world. He pushed himself up on his tiptoes, arched his back, and gave out with a prodigious yawn that somehow managed to express all the contentment and pleasure that... The Destruction Of Lo-tan
"How did you know I had been taken to Lo-Tan as a prisoner?" I asked the little group of Wyoming Bosses who had assembled in Wilma's tent to greet me. "And how does it happen that our gang is away out here in the Rocky Mountains? I had expected, a... The Diamond Maker
Some business had detained me in Chancery Lane nine in the evening, and thereafter, having some inkling of a headache, I was disinclined either for entertainment or further work. So much of the sky as the high cliffs of that narrow canon of traffic... The Discovery Of Lines Upon Mars-the Great Martian Controversy
After the little interlude with M'Allister, I resumed my remarks by saying that "The year 1877, so memorable for the near approach of Mars and the discovery of its two tiny satellites, was also the year in which a still more important discove... The Discovery Of The Food
I. In the middle years of the nineteenth century there first became abundant in this strange world of ours a class of men, men tending for the most part to become elderly, who are called, and who are very properly called, but who dislike extrem... The Disillusionment Of Ginger Stott
I Stott maintained an obstinate silence as we walked together up to the Common, a stretch of comparatively open ground on the plateau of the hill. He walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down, as he had walked out from Ailesworth w... The Dochart Pit
HARRY FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty. His grave looks, his habitually passive expression, had from childhood been noticed among his comrades in the mine. His regular features, his deep blue eyes, his curly hair, rather chestn... The Doctor Disappears
Hotep saw that he was ruined, and he went to fall down before Pharaoh and beg for mercy. The monarch, not having the courage of his own hard-heartedness, answered him,-- "I desire not to deal harshly with thee, O Hotep; for thou hast struggled ... The Door In The Wall
I One confidential evening, not three months ago, Lionel Wallace told me this story of the Door in the Wall. And at the time I thought that so far as he was concerned it was a true story. He told it me with such a direct simplicity of convicti... The Dope On Mars
Somebody had to get the human angle on this trip ... but what was humane about sending me? My agent was the one who got me the job of going along to write up the first trip to Mars. He was alway... The Dying World
"And now tell us of yourself," said 25X-987, "and about your world." Professor Jameson, noted in college as a lecturer of no mean ability and perfectly capable of relating intelligently to them the story of the earth's history, evolution and mar... The Eagle's Nest
On the morrow, when I awoke after a sound sleep, our vehicle seemed motionless. It seemed to me evident that we were not running upon land. Yet neither were we rushing through or beneath the waters; nor yet soaring across the sky. Had the inve... The Earth
Thus I was, and only the memory that I had lived through the dark, once before, served to sustain my thoughts. A great time passed--ages. And then a single star broke its way through the darkness. It was the first of one of the outlying clusters of ... The Eastern Tunnel
The next day was Tuesday, the 30th of June and at six o'clock in the morning we resumed our journey. We still continued to follow the gallery of lava, a perfect natural pathway, as easy of descent as some of those inclined planes which, in very... The Electric Gun
There was much excitement aboard the Advance. The submarine came to a stop in the water, while the treasure-seekers waited anxiously for what was to follow. Would they be rammed again? This time, stationary as they were, and with the other boat c... The Encounter
CHAPTER I I Oliver Brand was seated at his desk, on the evening of the next day, reading the leading article of the New People, evening edition. * * * * * "We have had time," he read, "to recover ourselves a little from the intoxication... The End
When it came time for Ernest and me to go to Washington, father did not accompany us. He had become enamoured of proletarian life. He looked upon our slum neighborhood as a great sociological laboratory, and he had embarked upon an apparently endl... The End
We may remember the intense sympathy which had accompanied the travelers on their departure. If at the beginning of the enterprise they had excited such emotion both in the old and new world, with what enthusiasm would they be received on their ... The End Of Tao
The scene of desolation that met us in the Lone City was at once extraordinary and awesome. It seemed impossible that our rays, acting for so brief a period, could have done so much damage. The city was nothing more than a semicivilized settlement... The End Of The Journey
"Say Doc!" It was Larry's voice flung back at me. "I was thinking about that frog. I think it was her pet. Damn me if I see any difference between a frog and a snake, and one of the nicest women I ever knew had two pet pythons that followed her aro... The End Of The Old Order
So far as Graham was able to judge, it was near midday when the white banner of the Council fell. But some hours had to elapse before it was possible to effect the formal capitulation, and so after he had spoken his "Word" he retired to his n... The End Of The Solar System
From the abutment, where once had been the windows, through which I had watched that first, fatal dawn, I could see that the sun was hugely greater, than it had been, when first the Star lit the world. So great was it, that its lower edge seemed alm... The Enemy To Be Starved Into Submission
"He is gone!" cried Martha, running out of her kitchen at the noise of the violent slamming of doors. "Yes," I replied, "completely gone." "Well; and how about his dinner?" said the old servant. "He won't have any." "And his supper?" "H... The Epilogue
I cannot but regret, now that I am concluding my story, how little I am able to contribute to the discussion of the many debatable questions which are still unsettled. In one respect I shall certainly provoke criticism. My particular provin... The Escape
The Mercutians all regarded me curiously as we came among them. By the respect they accorded Tao, and his attitude toward them, I decided he was the leader of the entire party. I stopped, wondering what would happen next. The man guarding me was s... The Escape
"Are you sure you understand, Tallis?" MacMaine asked in Kerothic. The alien general nodded emphatically. "Perfectly. Your Kerothic is not so bad that I could misunderstand your instructions. I still don't understand why you are doing this. Oh I... The Escape From Mardonale
"That was a wonderful bluff, Dick!" exclaimed the Kofedix in English as soon as Nalboon and his guards had disappeared. "That was exactly the tone to take with him, too--you've sure got him guessing!" "It seemed to get him, all right, but I'm wo... The Escape Of The Dead
A sense of delicious dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed, and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring to my feet but was horrified to discover that ... The Eternal Wall
A scream of brakes, the splash into icy waters, a long descent into alkaline depths ... it was death. But Ned Vince lived again--a million years later! "See you in half an hour, Betty," said Ned Vince over the party telephone. "We'll be out a... The Ethics Of Espionage
The steamer from Karachi to Bombay had about twenty officers and a larger number of noncommissioned officers and men on board who had been wounded in the first engagements on the frontier. The sight of them was not calculated to relieve the gloomy... The Eve Of Battle
In twenty minutes the Ithuriel ran alongside the Britain, which was one of the five most formidable battleships in existence. For five years past a new policy had been pursued with regard to the navy. The flagships, which of course contained the c... The Eve Of The Third Day
A touch upon Constans's shoulder and a voice in his ear aroused him. He sprang to his feet; the sunshine was streaming through the glazeless casements, and Constans, being yet heavy with sleep, blinked against it as a man drunken with wine. Oxenfo...