Hansen wanted very much to live was about to answer the Behemoth that he would be happy to undertake the mission. But he simply could not, even to save his life. The Behemoth had been honest with him. He just couldn’t lie in return.
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t work,” he said regretfully. They would never believe me. They would think I had gone crazy and lock me up. It would be even worse if they did believe I was speaking the truth. They would regard you as even more dangerous to their survival, both here on to all of the humans on Earth. Because human nature is so vile, they could not understand that life form could behave decently to them.”
The Behemoth nodded his head in agreement. I am afraid Earthman that you are correct. We had already assumed that but wanted to give you a chance to tell us your views.”
Hansen bowed his head and waited for the words condemning him to death. He could not blame them. They would be acting logically. He only hoped it would be quick and painless. .He was surprised when he heard the Behemoth say, “All right, Earthman; we will release you. You are free to return to your kind.” Hansen was amazed at hearing these words, but the Behemoth went on to explain. “Killing you would not reduce the menace your kind is to us. And you appear far more civilized in your behavior than the people from your planet we have encountered thus far. It would simply be irrational for us to kill you without purpose.”
Hansen gravely expressed his thanks. He also pledged that he would never lift his hand against the Behemoths again, in the army or elsewhere, but would instead do anything he could to modify man’s treatment of them. The Behemoths cared for his wound, putting a poultice on it which overnight greatly reduced the swelling and pain. The next morning, true to their word, Hansen was pointed in the right direction and set free.
Two days later, Hansen stumbled into a base camp and was cared for by the startled garrison. As he had decided to do on his journey, Hansen remained silent about his conversation with the Behemoth, stating only that the regiment had been attacked and overrun when their ammunition was exhausted. He described the retreat of the survivors and told his sympathetic interrogators that they had been overtaken and killed. He had survived; he explained, through blind luck by being hidden in a ditch under the dead bodies of some of the others.
After a few days of rest, Hansen was transported back to Broma City and interrogated events on the wiping out of the regiment. To his satisfaction, they seemed satisfied by his story. After a short period of rest in a resort maintained by the army, he was awarded a medal for valor, promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, and posted to another regiment. To everyone’s surprise, he expressed his gratitude but submitted his resignation, stating that he had decided to return to Earth and go into another profession.
Hansen was given a luxury cabin when he departed Broma Three on the first spacecraft that carried passengers back to Earth. He had already decided he would enter government service or seek political office. Hopefully, he would be successful in gaining enough clout to be able to modify the treatment given by humans to the Behemoths on Broma Three as well as to the various animal species on Earth. In his mind, there was absolutely no doubt that when comparing human beings with Behemoths, which species was more civilized.
ADMIRALTY AFFAIRS
The Earl of Brundell was probably the least qualified person in England to be named First Lord of the Admiralty. Nonetheless, he was chosen for the post because the British Cabinet concluded his support was necessary if it was to retain power. In making the selection they ignored the fact that the Earl’s sea sickness was so severe that he could not stand to be on board a ship, even one docked in the harbor. An even greater defeat was his total lack of common sense.
Brundell’s unsuitability for the position became clear within a fortnight of his taking office, when he ordered that the three new men of war to be christened be named H.M.S. Torpid, H.M.S. Turgid and H.M.S. Timorous. To the cries of outrage from the naval officers under him, he declared that torpid, turgid and timorous were all perfectly fine words found in the Oxford Dictionary, and he would tolerate no opposition.
Worse was to follow. The Earl decided that since French men of war possessed forecastles, the English would do them one better, with sixcastles in the bow of the vessel. This fifty percent increase in the height of the superstructure made the vessels top heavy, subject capsize in the slightest heavy seas.
Unable to convince the Earl of the stupidity of this change in ship design, the British admirals took the only course open to them. They ordered the men of war of the British fleet to remain at anchor in their home ports. Eventually, they knew, Brundell would leave officce, at which time they could scrap the vessels he designed and replace them with efficient fighting vessels.
With the navy effectively removed from operations, Britain quickly lost its position as mistress of the seas. First to go was the vital supply line to India. Bombay and Calcutta were evacuated as the British forces could no longer defend them from French naval attacks, and the British garrisons were withdrawn to the greater safety of Delhi.
Next to be lost was British naval superiority in the Mediterranean. The British colonies of Malta and Cyprus had to surrender. Gibraltar managed to hold out, but only due to the skill of the governor in purchasing supplies from nearby Spanish towns.
At length, the Cabinet was forced to face the fact of Brundell’s appalling stupidity and of the destruction he was wrecking on Britain’s vital interests. He had to be replaced as First Lord of the Admiralty. But how” The Cabinet believed it still needed his political support.
After considerable discussion, it was decided to promote him from First Lord of the Admiralty to be prime minister. Although theoretically a post of greater power, the ministers decided that he would do less harm there. The various ministers, they decided, would render him harmless by taking charge of affairs in their own departments. The sitting prime minister graciously retired to pave the way for Brundell’s elevation.
Little did they realize that in addition to being incredibly stupid, Brundell was also extremely energetic? Far from becoming a figurehead as prime minister, he grabbed all power into his own hands and began to exercise it fully, with no discretion.
What had happened to the British fleet was repeated in the country at general. Farmers rebelled at the mishandling of agricultural prices. Riots erupted in London and other major cities over the lack of food supplies. Bullion flowed from Britain in a torrent, and the Bank of England was rescued from bankruptcy only by the pawning of the crown jewels. The hapless sovereign locked himself into Buckingham Palace and pretended to be mad. In Scotland and Wales, demands for independence from England rose in a crescendo.
It was clear that if Brundell remained prime minister for much longer, the destruction he was inflicting could never be reversed. The Cabinet met in secret to discuss the best way of removing him. The time-honored means used to remove incompetent prime ministers, elevating them to the House of Lords, could not be employed to Brundell’s case because he already was an Earl.
Finally, a solution was found. He was named Viceroy to India and quickly hustled on board vessels that was conveniently heading to the subcontinent in the fervent hope that it would be intercepted and Brundell made captive by a French man of war. The new prime minister summoned representatives of the parties in Parliament to a secret gathering. There, they jointly agreed that while they could in the future name incompetents to be prime minister, it would always be a lazy one who would undertake no new policies.
And so it has been. Many incompetents have served as British Prime Minister, but never an energetic one. At the next general election, Brundell’s party was decisively defeated. Today, as a result of his performance, it is now defunct. You will look hard in British history to find any mention of the Earl of Brundell or of his party, so thoroughly have the British deliberately written him out of their history.
Unfortunately, when the thirteen British colonies gained independence from Great Britain and formed t
he United States of America, the story of the Earl of Brundell did not carry across the Atlantic. After some year of capable presidents, the United States in recent years is observing the harmful effects in this country of presidents who have been both incompetent and energetic.
DOUBLE JEOPARDY
W. Langdon Smuthers lived in the nicest residence in Hell. It was not only centrally air-conditioned, but had four bedrooms, a massive dining room, a book-lined library, a swimming pool and a tennis court. Those who saw it could not understand how a damned soul could possibly be given such a fine home. It was located in that quarter of Hell reserved for deceased government officials, Congressmen, former dictators and the like. The garbage was picked regularly once a month, and few dogs polluted the lawns of neighbors. Probably the most unpleasant aspect was the torrent of screams of pain from the homes of Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin, reflecting the high level of torture inflicted on them because of their crimes on earth.
Smuthers, who had served in the United States Senate for three terms before joining being killed in a plane accident while campaigning for re-election, was very pleased by his abode. Given the fact that as a politician he had been involved in corrupt deals and was now a damned soul in Hell, his treatment was really quite good. There was only one problem. He never got to spend any time in his house. What matter than it had a very an Olympic sized swimming pool or a well manicured lawn or that its tennis court was always in perfect shape. What matter that his large household staff included a celebrity chef and a pastry cook? He never was at home to enjoy
With amazing frequency, Smuthers was dispatched by Satan around the world on missions utilizing his diplomatic skill. One day he was in deepest Africa, the next in the Middle East, the next in Latin America. A few hours after returning home from abroad, before he had a chance even to change into a clean shirt or have a hot meal, the Devil would send for him again give him another mission. And it was not as though he was able to accomplish anything on these trips. The individuals he was forced to talk with were all either simpletons too stupid to comprehend what he told them or so pompous they refused to listen to anyone but themselves.
Finally, he could stand this no more. Returning from one particularly unpleasant mission thoroughly exhausted, his stomach rebelling from the horrible that’s he had been obliged to eat, his head throbbing from lack of sleep, he had gone directly to Satan’s office before stopping off at his home. The Arch Fiend received him at once.
After the turbulent plane ride, Smuthers found the Devil’s office pleasant, the air conditioning making this the coolest place in Hell. “What a pleasure,” Satan said. Satan was seated in a comfortable desk chair behind a large desk. On the walls were several plaques testifying to the efficiency of his office. In the center there was a large photograph, showing him in the full regalia of an angel, back before he rebelled against God and was sent down to reign over Hell.
Smuthers launched into his complaints. He did not object to being sent to Hell. After all, he had been a politician and individuals entering politics must realize that they are placing their immortal souls in jeopardy. But he honestly felt that a shorter time in Hell rather than all eternity was the proper answer and that at a minimum the torture he was being subjected to was unfair and that some amelioration of his treatment.
The devil sat silently, pondering. From the time to time, he scratched his head with his tail. Finally, he spoke. Satan, of course, has no mercy within him nor tenderness, but occasionally what appear to be signs of fairness come through. This seems to be the case now.
“What you say, Mr. Smuthers,” he said with a smile that might also have been a leer, “Does seem to have an element of truth in it, your treatment is definitely different from that accorded other souls in Hell. Unfortunately, my hands are tied. There is not much I can do to remedy the situation. I certainly can’t discharge you from Hell and give you a pass to Heaven. Even you would have to admit that would not be justified. As for reducing your period in Hell, the administrative procedures preclude that.
The Arch Fiend fell silent. Smuthers rose to leave, defeated, when Satan spoke again. “You know,” he said, “There is something I might be able to do. It rarely happens that someone is sent to Hell as a result of mechanical failure. When that happens, I can send them back to life, to give them so to speak a second chance. Naturally, your old body has been disposed of, but there are some available occasionally. Let me so what I can do.”
The Devil does not always lie; sometimes he speaks the truth for his own purposes. One day after only a brief period of continued torture, Smuthers found himself back on Earth in a new body. He had just graduated from law school and was trying to decide what career path he should choose. The reborn Smuthers possessed one advantage not shared by any living person. He retained a full memory of what Hell was like and how his previous conduct and led him to end up there.
Initially, Smuthers decided to become a district attorney and devote his life to obtaining proper punishment for malefactors and protection of the innocent. In this way, he would do enough good to avoid Hell. Eventually, he concluded that an even surer means to assure a place in Heaven was for him to-become a politician again. With his special knowledge, he would be able to avoid all of the practices that had led him into Hell before. In this way, he might do more good for more people than an as district attorney.
Despite the many challenges to such a course of action, Smuthers carried out his plan without deviation. Unlike other politicians, he never once did anything the least bit unethical or illegal. He made sure that his campaign expenses were also audited several times over to insure against accidental improprieties.. Most atypically, he never promised to deliver what he was not certain of being able to provide, regardless of how his vote would affect his popular support among the voters, he only voted for measures that would enhance the public good.
By the time Smuthers was elected to the United States Senate, he was nicknamed “Honest John” by the Washington press corps. His reputation grew to the extent that the President, seeking to restore public confidence in the administration after a series of scandals, each worse than the one before, nominated him to be Secretary of State. Although he would damage his reputation by joining an administration so tarred by scandal, he unselfishly accepted the post in the expectation that he now might be able to help not just the citizens of the United States, but also m the oppressed populations of the world.
As Secretary of state, Smuthers traveled around the globe tirelessly, attempting to resolver international crises, to provide humanitarian assistance and to prevent wars and genocide. In many respects, his existence was as difficult as it and been when he was being employed by the Devil. This time, however, Smuthers knew he was advancing the cause of good, not evil and was insuring his eventual future in Heaven.
Sadly, on one such trip, Smuthers’ aircraft suffered series mechanical failure. The plane crashed into a mountain, killing everyone on board, including the Secretary of State. Smuthers regained consciousness to find himself back in Hell, in his old residence. He rushed to see the Devil to complain and was immediately ushered in to Satan’s office.
The office and the Arch Fiend looked unchanged. “This is most unfair,” Smuthers declared, sputtering with anger. “I did everything I could to redeem myself. I shouldn’t be here now. It is most, most unfair.”
“Indeed it is,” agreed the Devil smiling. Although the Devil is without mercy or tenderness, he is well known for having a rather unusual sense of humor.
BANCROFT’S TIME MACHINE
You almost certainly have never heard of Arthur Bancroft time machine. This is because of his efforts to hide its existence. Unlike virtually every other effort to achieve this elusive goal, it was successful. Not only successful. His machine was easy to assembly and made out of easily obtainable components. He made a large number of machines for testing purposes and began the trials. This revealed only one minor defect. Although it could go forward in time to any des
ired period or go backward in the same fashion, his time machinery could only make a one-way trip. In short, once a person took it into the future or the past, he was stuck permanently in that period. He could not return.
It took a long time and the expenditure of many machines for Bancroft to accept the situation. In his first test of it, he set the control for an hour in the future, sent it off on its trip and waited patiently for an hour for it to reappear. To his disappointment it failed to do so. He waited another hour and then another. Finally, he concluded that he must have made an error in setting the control of the machine and tried the experiment again. The result was the same. It had gone for good.
Bancroft comforted himself with the possibility that while the mechanism to travel into the future needed some adjustment, the machine would still function properly if sent into the past. He set the controls for the machine to travel to the past, but to a slightly different site, his upstairs bedroom instead of hi laboratory. The machine vanished as before. Bancroft raced upstairs to his bedroom, hoping to find that the machine had arrived there an hour before. Once again, there was no time machine. Another failure.
Test after test produced the same result. He took the machine apart, examined each component carefully for flaws and found nothing. He reassembled the time machine and tried again, both trips to the past and to the future. Still total failure. Not a single machine every returned.
STRANGE SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY OMNIBUS Page 13