A Century of Science Fiction

by Damon Knight (ed. )

  Savage turned to the colonel. “Are we ready, Ed?”

  “Yes, General.” He glanced at Hulser, nodded. “Let’s go, Larry. Give it power.”

  Hulser depressed the switch in his hand, involuntarily closed his eyes, then snapped them open and stared at the distant explosives.

  A low humming arose from the projector.

  Page spoke to the General. “It’ll take a little time for the effect to build u-”

  As he started to say “up” the mound of explosives went up in a giant roaring and rumbling. Colonel Page was left staring at the explosion, his mouth shaped to say “p.”

  Steam and dust hid the place where the explosives had been.

  The gravel voice of the visitor spoke behind Hulser. “Well, there goes the whole shooting match, General. And I do mean shooting!”

  “It’s what we were afraid of, sir,” said Savage. “But there’s no help for it now.” He sounded bitter.

  Hulser was struck by the bitterness in both voices. He turned, became conscious that the lieutenant whom Page had reprimanded was beating at a flaming breast pocket, face livid. The people around him were laughing, trying to help.

  Page had hurried along the line of recorders, was checking each one.

  The significance of the lieutenant’s antics suddenly hit Hulser. Matches! He forgot his spare matches after losing his cigarette lighter! Hulser glanced to where the colonel had thrown the lighter, saw a black patch in the snow.

  Page returned from checking the recorders. “We can’t be sure about the coal, but as nearly as we can determine, it touched off everything else in the stack!” He put an arm on Hulser’s shoulder. “This young genius has won the war for us.”

  The (civilian?) snorted.

  Savage turned, scowled at Hulser.

  But Hulser was staring out at the explosion crater, a look of euphoria on his face.

  The technicians were moving out into the area now, probing cautiously for unexploded fragments.

  The General and his visitor exchanged a glance that could have meant anything. .

  Savage signaled his radio operator to call for transportation.

  Presently, a line of weasels came roaring up to the test site.

  Savage took Hulser’s arm in a firm grip. “You’d better come with us. You’re a valuable piece of property now.”

  Hulser’s mind came back to the curious conversation between Savage and the visitor after the explosion, and he was struck by the odd sadness in the General’s voice. Could he be an old war dog sorry to see it end? Somehow, on looking at the General, that didn’t fit.

  They sped across the barrens to the base, Hulser uncomfortable between the General and his visitor. Apparently no one wanted to discuss what had just happened. Hulser was made uncomfortable by the lack of elation around him. He looked at the back of the driver’s neck, but that told him nothing.

  They strode into the General’s office, an oblong room without windows. Maps lined the walls. A low partition separated one space containing two barren tables from another space containing three desks, One set somewhat apart. They crossed to the separate desk.

  Savage indicated his visitor. “This is Mr. Sladen.” There was a slight hesitation on the “Mr.”

  Hulser suppressed a desire to salute, shook hands. The other man had a hard grip in an uncalloused hand.

  Sladen’s gravelly baritone came out brusque and commanding. “Brief him, General. I’ll go get my people and their gear together. We’ll have to head right back.”

  Savage nodded. “Thank you, sir. I’ll get right at it.”

  Sladen cast a speculative look at Hulser. “Make sure he understands clearly what has just happened. I don’t believe he’s considered it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sladen departed.

  Hulser felt an odd sinking sensation in his stomach. Savage said, “I’m not rank happy, Hulser, and we haven’t much time. We’re going to forget about military formality for a few minutes.”

  Hulser nodded without speaking.

  “Do you know what has just happened?” asked Savage. “Yes, sir. But what puzzles me is that you people don’t seem pleased about our gaining the whip hand so we can win this war. It’s—”

  “It’s not certain that we have the whip hand.” Savage sat down at his desk, picked up a book bound in red leather. “You mean the enemy—”

  “Bright ideas like yours just seem to float around in the air, Hulser. They may already have it, or they could be working on it. Otherwise, I’d have seen that your brainstorm was buried. It seems that once human beings realize something can be done, they’re not satisfied until they’ve done it.” * “Have there been any signs that the enemy—”

  “No. But neither have they seen any signs of our new weapon ... I hope. The point is: we do have it and we’re going to use it. We’ll probably overwhelm them before they can do anything about it. And that’ll be the end of this war.” “But if explosives are made obsolete, that’ll mean an end to all wars,” protested Helser. “That’s what I’m concerned about!”

  The General sneered. “Nothing, my bright-eyed young friend, has thus far made war impossible! When this one’s over, it’ll be just a matter of time until there’s another war, both sides using your projector.”

  “But, sir—”

  “So the next war will be fought with horse cavalry, swords, crossbows and lances,” said Savage. “And there’ll be other little improvements!” He slammed the red book onto his desk, surged to his feet. “Elimination of explosives only makes espionage, poisons, poison gas, germ warfare—all of these—a necessity!”

  “How can you—”

  “Don’t you understand, Hulser? You’ve made the military use of explosives impossible. That means gasoline. The internal-combustion motor is out. That means jet fuels. Airplanes are out. That means gunpowder. Everything from the smallest sidearm to the biggest cannon is out!”

  “Certainly, but—”

  “But we have other alternatives, Hulser. We have the weapons King Arthur used. And we have some modern innovations: poison gases, curare-tipped crossbow bolts, bacterial—”

  “But the Geneva Convention—”

  “Geneva Convention be damped! And that’s just what will happen to it as soon as a big enough group of people decide to ignore it!” General Savage hammered a fist on his desk. “Get this! Violence is a part of human life. The lust for power is a part of human life. As long as people want power badly enough, they’ll use any means to get it—fair or foul! Peaceful or otherwise!”

  “I think you’re being a pessimist, sir.”

  “Maybe I am. I hope I am. But I come from a long line of military people. We’ve seen some things to make us pessimists.”

  “But the pressures for peace—”

  “Have thus far not been strong enough to prevent wars, Hulser.” The General shook his head. “I’ll tell you something, my young friend: When I first saw the reference to your ideas in the charges against you, I had the sinking sensation one gets when going down for the third time. I hoped against hope that you were wrong, but I couldn’t afford not to investigate. I hoped that Major Lipari and Sergeant Chamberlain had you pegged for—”

  The General stopped, glared at Hulser. “There’s another bone I have to pick with you! Your treatment of two fine soldiers was nothing short of juvenile! If it wasn’t for the Liparis and the Chamberlains, you’d be getting thirty lashes every morning from your local slave keeper!”

  “But, sir—”

  “Don’t ‘But, sir’ me, Hulser! If there was time before you leave, I’d have you deliver personal apologies to both of them!”

  Hulser blushed, shook his head. “I don’t know. All I really know is that I was sure my idea would work, and that Lipari and Chamberlain didn’t understand. And I knew if I was killed, or if my idea wasn’t developed, the enemy might get it first.”

  Savage leaned back against his desk, passed a hand across his eyes. “You were right, of cou
rse. It’s just that you were bucking the system, and you’re not the right kind to buck the system. Your kind usually fails when you try.”

  Hulser sighed.

  “You’re now a valuable piece of property, my lad. So don’t feel sorry for yourself. You’ll be sent home where you can be around when your wife has that child.”

  Hulser looked surprised.

  “Oh, yes, we found out about her,” said Savage. “We thought at first you were just working a good dodge to get home to her.” He shrugged. “You’ll probably have it fairly soft now. You’ll be guarded and coddled. You’ll be expected to produce another act of genius! The Lord knows, maybe you are a genius.”

  “You wait and see, sir. I think this will mean an end to all wars.”

  The General suddenly looked thoughtful. “Hulser, a vastly underrated and greatly despised writer—in some circles— once said, ‘There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things.’ That’s a very deep statement, Hulser. And there you are, way out in front with ‘a new order of things.’ I hope for the sake of that child you’re going to have—for the sake of all children—that we don’t have another war.” He shrugged. “But I don’t hold out too—”

  Sladen popped back into the office. “Our air cover’s coming up, General. We’ll have to take him like he is. Send his gear along later, will you?”

  “Certainly, sir.” Savage straightened, stuck out his right hand, shook with Hulser. “Good luck, Hulser. You take what I said to heart. It’s the bitter truth that men of war have to live with. You weren’t attacking the source of the problem with your bright idea. You were attacking one of the symptoms.”

  Savage’s left hand came up from his desk with the red book. “Here’s a gift for that child you’re going to have.” He pressed the book into Hulser’s hands. “The next generation will need to understand this book.”

  Hulser had time to say, “Thank you, sir.” Then he was propelled out the door by Sladen.

  It was not until he was on the plane winging south that Hulser had an opportunity to examine the book. Then he gripped it tightly in both hands, stared out the window at the sea of clouds. Tlie book was a limited edition copy, unexpurgated, of the works of Niccolo Machiavelli, the master of deceit and treachery.

  SUGGESTED READING

  If you have enjoyed reading this anthology, as I hope, you

  may want to look up some of the stories and books mentioned in it. Here they are:

  Aldiss, Brian W. Galaxies Like Grains of Sand. Signet Books (paperback), New York, 1960.

  Asimov, Isaac. 1, Robot. Gnome Press, New York, 1950.

  Bierce, Ambrose. The Collected Writings of Ambrose Bierce. Citadel Press, New York, 1946.

  Blish, James. Earthman, Come Home. Putnam, New York, 1955.

  -. They Shall Have Stars. Faber, London, 1956; Avon

  (paperback), New York, 1957, as Year 20181.

  -. A Clash of Cymbals. Faber, London, 1959; Avon

  (paperback), New York, 1958, as The Triumph of Time.

  Bradbury, Ray. “The Pedestrian,” in Golden Apples of the Sun. Doubleday, New York, 1953.

  de Camp, L. Sprague. Lest Darkness Fall. Henry Holt & Co., New York, 1941.

  Derleth, August (ed.) Beyond Time and Space. Pellegrini and Cudahy, New York, 1950.

  Gernsback, Hugo. Ralph 124C41 + . Frederick Fell, Inc., New York, 1950.

  Heinlein, Robert A. “By His Bootstraps,” in Famous Science Fiction Stories. Modern Library, New York, 1957.

  -. “Coventry,” in Revolt in 2100. Shasta, Chicago,

  1953.

  -. “Lifeline,” in The Man Who Sold the Moon. Shasta,

  Chicago, 1950.

  -. Methuselah's Children. Gnome Press, New York,

  n.d.

  -. “Requiem,” in Famous Science Fiction Stories.

  Modern Library, New York, 1957.

  -. “Universe,” in The Best of Science Fiction. Crown

  Publishers, New York, 1946.

  Leinster, Murray. Sidewise in Time. Shasta, Chicago, 1950.

  Lewis, C. S. Out of the Silent Planet. Macmillan, New York, 1943.

  -. See also Perelandra, Macmillan, New York, 1944;

  and That Hideous Strength, Macmillan, New York, 1946.

  O’Brien, Fitz-James. Collected Stories. Boni, New York, 1925 (eight stories).

  -. The Diamond Lens. Rudge, New York, 1932 (thirteen stories).

  Poe, Edgar Allen. The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Random House (Modern Library [G40]), New York.

  Pratt, Fletcher (ed.). World of Wonder. Twayne Publishers, New York, 1952.

  Reynolds, Mack and Brown, Fredric (eds.). Science Fiction Carnival. Shasta, Chicago, 1953.

  Simak, Clifford. City. Gnome Press, New York, 1952.

  Stapledon, Olaf. Odd John, in Portable Novels of Science. Viking Press, New York, 1945.

  Sturgeon, Theodore. “Ether Breather,” in Without Sorcery. Prime, Philadelphia, 1948.

  Twain, Mark. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Modern Library, New York, 1949.

  Verne, Jules. From the Earth to the Moon and a Trip Around It. Lippincott, New York, 1958.

  -. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Doubleday (Dolphin Series [Cl67]), New York, 1960.

  Wells, H. G. Seven Science Fiction Novels of H. G. Wells. Dover Publications, New York, 1949.

  -. Twenty-eight Science Fiction Stories. Dover Publications, New York, 1952.

  Here is another list, of books about science fiction. Some,

  but not all, are mentioned in this anthology.

  Amis, Kingsley. New Maps of Hell. Harcourt, Brace, New York, 1960.

  Bailey, J. O. Pilgrims Through Space and Time. Argus, New York, 1947.

  Davenport, Basil. Inquiry into Science Fiction. Longmans, Green, New York, 1955.

  de Camp, L. Sprague. Science Fiction Handbook. Hermitage, New York, 1953.

  Knight, Damon. In Search of Wonder. Advent, Chicago, 1956.

  Kornbluth, Cyril, et al. The Science Fiction Novel. Advent, Chicago, 1959.

  Lewis, C. S. An Experiment in Criticism. Cambridge University Press, New York, 1961.

  Nicolson, Marjorie Hope. Voyages to the Moon. Macmillan, New York, 1948.

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