This Crowded Earth

by Robert Bloch

  10. Harry Collins--2032

  Harry's son's house was on the outskirts of Washington, near what hadonce been called Gettysburg. Harry was surprised to find that it _was_a house, and a rather large one, despite the fact that almost all thefurniture had been scaled down proportionately to fit the needs of aman three feet high.

  But then, Harry was growing accustomed to surprises.

  He found a room of his own, ready and waiting, on the second floor;here the furniture was of almost antique vintage, but adequate insize. And here, in an atmosphere of unaccustomed comfort, he couldtalk.

  "So you're a physician, eh?" Harry gazed down into the diminutiveface, striving to accept the fact that he was speaking to a matureadult. His own son--his and Sue's--a grown man and a doctor! It seemedincredible. But then, nothing was more incredible than the knowledgethat he was actually here, in his child's home.

  "We're all specialists in one field or another," his son explained."Every one of us born and surviving during the early experimentalperiod received our schooling under a plan Leffingwell set up. It waspart of his conditional agreement that we become wards of the state.He knew the time might come when we'd be needed."

  "But why wasn't all this done openly?"

  "You know the answer to that. There was no way of educating us underthe prevailing system, and there was always a danger we might besingled out as freaks who must be destroyed--particularly in thoseearly years. So Leffingwell relied on secrecy, just as he did duringhis experimentation period. You know how _you_ felt about that. Youbelieved innocent people were being murdered. Would you have listenedto his explanations, accepted the fact that his work was worth thecost of a few lives so that future billions of human beings might besaved? No, there was no time for explanation or indoctrination.Leffingwell chose concealment."

  "Yes," Harry sighed. "I understand that better now, I think. But Icouldn't see it then, when I tried to kill him." He flushed. "And Istill can't quite comprehend why he spared me after that attempt."

  "Because he wasn't the monster you thought him to be. When I pleadedwith him--"

  "_You_ were the one!"

  Harry's son turned away. "Yes. When I was told who you really were, Iwent to him. But I was only a child, remember that. And he didn'tspare you out of sentimentality. He had a purpose."

  "A purpose in sending me to prison, letting me rot all these yearswhile--"

  "While I grew up. I and the others like myself. And while the worldoutside changed." Harry's son smiled. "Your friend Richard Wade wasright, you know. He guessed a great deal of the truth. Leffingwell andManschoff and the rest of their associates deliberately set out toassemble a select group of nonconformists--men of specialized talentsand outlooks. There were over three hundred of you at Stark Falls.Richard Wade knew why."

  "And so he was dragged off and murdered."

  "Murdered? No, Father, he's very much alive, I assure you. In fact,he'll be here tonight."

  "But why was he taken away so abruptly, without any warning?"

  "He was needed. There was a crisis, when Dr. Leffingwell died."Harry's son sighed. "You didn't know about that, did you? There's somuch for you to learn. But I'll let him tell you himself, when you seehim this evening."

  Richard Wade told him. And so did William Chang and Lars Neilstrom andall the others. During the ensuing weeks, Harry saw each of themagain. But Wade's explanation was sufficient.

  "I was right," he said. "There was no Underground when we were atStark Falls. What I didn't realize, though, was that there was anOverground."

  "Overground?"

  "You might call it that. Leffingwell and his staff formed the nucleus.They foresaw the social crisis which lay ahead, when the world becamephysically divided into the tall and the short, the young and the old.They knew there'd be a need of individuality then--and they _did_create a stockpile. A stockpile of the younger generation, speciallyeducated; a stockpile of the older generation, carefully selected. Weconspicuous rebels were incarcerated and given an opportunity to thinkthe problem through, with limited contact with one another'sviewpoints."

  "But why weren't we told the truth at the beginning, allowed to meetface-to-face and make some sensible plans for the future?"

  Harry's son interrupted. "Because Dr. Leffingwell realized this woulddefeat the ultimate purpose. You'd have formed your own in-group, asprisoners, dedicated to your own welfare. There'd be emotional ties--"

  "I still don't know what you're talking about. What are we supposed toprepare for now?"

  Richard Wade shrugged. "Leffingwell had it all planned. He foresawthat when the first generation of Yardsticks--that's what they callthemselves, you know--came of age, there'd be social unrest. The youngpeople would want to take over, and the older generation would try toremain in positions of power. It was his belief that tensions could bealleviated only by proper leadership on both sides.

  "He himself had an important voice in government circles. He set up anarrangement whereby a certain number of posts would be assigned topeople of his choice, both young and old. Similarly, in the variousprofessions, there'd be room for appointees he'd select. Given a yearor two of training, Leffingwell felt that we'd be ready for thesepositions. Young men, like your son, would be placed in key spotswhere their influence would be helpful with the Yardsticks. Older mensuch as yourself would go into other assignments--in communicationsmedia, chiefly. The skillful use of group-psychological techniquescould avert open clashes. He predicted a danger-period lasting abouttwenty years--roughly, from 2030 to 2050. Once we weathered that span,equilibrium would be regained, as a second and third generation camealong and the elders became a small minority. If we did our work welland eliminated the sources of prejudice, friction and hostility, thetransition could be made. The Overground in governmental circles wouldfinance us. This was Leffingwell's plan, his dream."

  "You speak in the past tense," Harry said.

  "Yes." Wade's voice was harsh. "Because Leffingwell is dead, ofcerebral hemorrhage. And his plan died with him. Oh, we still havesome connections in government; enough to get men like yourself out ofStark Falls. But things have moved too swiftly. The Yardsticks arealready on the march. The people in power--even those we reliedupon--are getting frightened. They can't see that there's time left totrain us to take over. And frankly, I'm afraid most of them have noinclination to give up their present power. They intend to useforce."

  "But you talk as though the Yardsticks were united."

  "They are uniting, and swiftly. Remember the Naturalists?"

  Harry nodded, slowly. "I was one, once. Or thought I was."

  "You were a liberal. I'm talking about the _new_ Naturalists. The onesbent on actual revolution."

  "Revolution?"

  "That's the word. And that's the situation. It's coming to a head,fast."

  "And how will we prevent it?"

  "I don't know." Harry's son stared up at him. "Most of us believe it'stoo late to prevent it. Our immediate problem will be survival. TheNaturalists want control for themselves. The Yardsticks intend todestroy the power of the older generation. And we feel that if matterscome to a head soon, the government itself may turn on us, too.They'll have to."

  "In other words," said Harry, "we stand alone."

  "Fall alone, more likely," Wade corrected.

  "How many of us are there?"

  "About six hundred," said Harry's son. "Located in private homesthroughout this eastern area. If there's violence, we don't have achance of controlling the situation."

  "But we can survive. As I see it, that's our only salvation at themoment--to somehow survive the coming conflict. Then, perhaps, we canfind a way to function as Leffingwell planned."

  "We'll never survive here. They'll use every conceivable weapon."

  "But since there's no open break with the government yet, we couldstill presumably arrange for transportation facilities."

  "To where?"

  "Some spot in which we could weather the storm. What aboutLeffingwel
l's old hideout?"

  "The units are still standing." Harry's son nodded. "Yes, that's apossibility. But what about food?"

  "Grizek."

  "What?"

  "Friend of mine," Harry told him. "Look, we're going to have to workfast. And yet we've got to do it in a way that won't attract anyattention; not even from the government. I suggest we set up anorganizing committee and make plans." He frowned. "How much time doyou think we have--a year or so?"

  "Six months," his son hazarded.

  "Four, at most," Wade said. "Haven't you been getting the full reportson those riots? Pretty soon they'll declare a state of nationalemergency and then nobody will be going anywhere."

  "All right." Harry Collins grinned. "We'll do it in four months."

  * * * * *

  Actually, as it worked out, they did it in just a day or so underthree.

  Five hundred and forty-two men moved by jetter to Colorado Springs;thence, by helicopter, to the canyon hideaway. They moved in smallgroups, a few each week. Harry himself had already established theliaison system, and he was based at Grizek's ranch. Grizek was dead,but Bassett and Tom Lowery remained and they cooperated. Food would beready for the 'copters that came out of the canyon.

  The canyon installation itself was deserted, and the only problem itpresented was one of rehabilitation. The first contingent took over.

  The jetters carried more than their human cargo; they were filled withequipment of all sorts--microscans and laboratory instruments anddevices for communication. By the time the entire group was assembled,they had the necessary implementation for study and research. It was awell-conceived and well-executed operation.

  To his surprise, Harry found himself acting as the leader of theexpedition, and he continued in this capacity after they wereestablished. The irony of the situation did not escape him; to allintents and purposes he was now ruling the very domain in which he hadonce languished as a prisoner.

  But with Wade and Chang and the others, he set up a provisional systemwhich worked out very well. And proved very helpful, once the newsreached them that open revolt had begun in the world outside.

  A battered 'copter landed one evening at dusk, and the wounded pilotpoured out his message, then his life's blood.

  Angelisco was gone. Washington was gone. The Naturalists had struck,using the old, outlawed weapons. And it was the same abroad, accordingto the few garbled reports thereafter obtainable only _via_ ancientshortwave devices.

  From then on, nobody left the canyon except on weekly 'copter-lifts tothe ranch grazing lands for fresh supplies. Fortunately, that area wasundisturbed, and so were its laconic occupants. They neither knew norcared what went on in the world outside; what cities were reporteddestroyed, what forces triumphed or went down into defeat, whatactivity or radioactivity prevailed.

  Life in the canyon flowed on, more peacefully than the river cleavingits center. There was much to do and much to learn. It was, actually,a monastic existence, compounded of frugality, abstinence, continenceand devotion to scholarly pursuits. Within a year, gardens flourished;within two years herds grazed the grassy slopes; within three yearscloth was being woven on looms in the ancient way and most of thehomespun arts of an agrarian society had been revived. Men fell sickand men died, but the survivors lived in amity. Harry Collinscelebrated his sixtieth birthday as the equivalent of a second-yearstudent of medicine; his instructor being his own son. Everyone wasstudying some subject, acquiring some new skill. One-time rebelliousnatures and one-time biological oddities alike were united by thecommon bond of intellectual curiosity.

  It was, however, no Utopia. Some of the younger men wanted women, andthere were no women. Some were irked by confinement and wandered off;three of the fleet of eleven 'copters were stolen by groups ofmalcontents. From time to time there would be a serious quarrel. Sixmen were murdered. The population dwindled to four hundred and twenty.

  But there was progress, in the main. Eventually Banning joined thegroup, from the ranch, and under his guidance the study-system wasformalized. Attempts were made to project the future situation, toprepare for the day when it would be possible to venture safely intothe outside world once again and utilize newly-won abilities.

  Nobody could predict when that would be, nor what kind of world wouldawait their coming. By the time the fifth year had passed, evenshortwave reports had long since ceased. Rumors persisted thatradioactive contamination was widespread, that the population had beenvirtually decimated, that the government had fallen, that theNaturalists had set up their own reign only to fall victim to internalstrife.

  "But one thing is certain," Harry Collins told his companions as theyassembled in the usual monthly meeting on the grounds before the oldheadquarters building one afternoon in July. "The fighting will endsoon. If we hear nothing more within the next few months, we'll sendout observation parties. Once we determine the exact situation, we canplan accordingly. The world is going to need what we can give. It willuse what we have learned. It will accept our aid. One of these days--"

  And he went on to outline a carefully-calculated program of makingcontact with the powers that be, or might be. It sounded logical andeven the chronic grumblers and habitual pessimists in the group wereencouraged.

  If at times they felt the situation fantastic and the hope forlorn,they were heartened now. Richard Wade summed it up succinctlyafterwards, in a private conversation with Harry.

  "It isn't going to be easy," he said. "In the old science fictionyarns I used to write, a group like this would have been able toprevent the revolution. At the very least, it would decide who won iffighting actually broke out. But in reality we were too late toforestall revolt, and we couldn't win the war no matter on whose sidewe fought. There's just one job we're equipped for--and that's to winthe peace. I don't mean we'll step out of here and take over theworld, either. We'll have to move slowly and cautiously, dispersing inlittle groups of five or six all over the country. And we'll have tosound out men in the communities we go to, find those who are willingto learn and willing to build. But we can be an influence, and animportant one. We have the knowledge and the skill. We may not bechosen to lead, but we can _teach_ the leaders. And that's important."

  Harry smiled in agreement. They _did_ have something to offer, andsurely it would be recognized--even if the Naturalists had won, evenif the entire country had sunk into semi-barbarism. No useanticipating such problems now. Wait until fall came; then they'dreconnoitre and find out. Wait until fall--

  It was a wise decision, but one which ignored a single, importantfact. The Naturalists didn't wait until fall to conduct theirreconnaissance.

  They came over the canyon that very night; a large group of them in alarge jetter.

  And they dropped a large bomb....