The Science Fiction anthology - Andre Norton

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“He built one like it. It confirmed his theories. His calculations showed him something else too. He saw the destructive potentialities of an atomic explosion. He himself could not have built an atomic bomb; he didn’t have the facilities. But his knowledge would have enabled other men to do so. He looked about him. He saw a political setup of warring principalities, rival states, intrigue, and squabbles over political power. Giving the men of his time atomic energy would have been like handing a baby a firecracker with a lighted fuse.

      “What should he have done? Let his secrets die with him? He didn’t think so. No one else in his age could have derived the knowledge that he did. But it was an age of brilliant men. Leonardo. Michelangelo. There were men capable of learning his science, even as men can learn it today. He gathered some of them together and founded this society. It served two purposes. It perpetuated his discoveries and at the same time it maintained the greatest secrecy about them. He urged that the secrets be kept until the time when men could use them safely. The other purpose was to make that time come about as soon as possible.”

      Crandon looked at Don’s unbelieving face. “How can I make you see that it is the truth? Think of the eons that man or manlike creatures have walked the Earth. Think what a small fraction of that time is four hundred years. Is it so strange that atomic energy was discovered a little early, by this displacement in time that is so tiny after all?”

      “But by one man,” Don argued.

      Crandon shrugged. “Compared with him, Don, you and I are stupid men. So are the scientists who slowly plodded down the same road he had come, stumbling first on one truth and then the succeeding one. We know that inventions and discoveries do not occur at random. Each is based on the one that preceded it. We are all aware of the phenomenon of simultaneous invention. The path to truth is a straight one. It is only our own stupidity that makes it seem slow and tortuous.

      “He merely followed the straight path,” Crandon finished simply.

      Don’s incredulity thawed a little. It was not entirely beyond the realm of possibility.

      But if it were true! A vast panorama of possible achievements spread before him.

      “Four hundred years!” he murmured with awe. “You’ve had four hundred years head-start on the rest of the world! What wonders you must have uncovered in that time!”

      “Our technical achievements may disappoint you,” warned Crandon. “Oh, they’re way beyond anything that you are familiar with. You’ve undoubtedly noticed the shielding material on the reactor. That’s a fairly recent development of our metallurgical department. There are other things in the laboratory that I can’t even explain to you until you have caught up on the technical basis for understanding them.

      “Our emphasis has not been on physical sciences, however, except as they contribute to our central project. We want to change civilization so that it can use physical science without disaster.”

      For a moment Don had been fired with enthusiasm. But at these words his heart sank.

      “Then you’ve failed,” he said bitterly. “In spite of centuries of advance warning, you’ve failed to change the rest of us enough to prevent us from trying to blow ourselves off the Earth. Here we are, still snarling and snapping at our neighbors’ throats—and we’ve caught up with you. We have the atomic bomb. What’s POSAT been doing all that time? Or have you found that human nature really can’t be changed?”

      “Come with me,” said Crandon.

      He led the way along the narrow balcony to another door, then down a steep flight of stairs. He opened a door at the bottom, and Don saw what must have been the world’s largest computing machine.

      “This is our answer,” said Crandon. “Oh, rather, it’s the tool by which we find our answer. For two centuries we have been working on the newest of the sciences—that of human motivation. Soon we will be ready to put some of our new knowledge to work. But you are right in one respect, we are working now against time. We must hurry if we are to save our civilization. That’s why you are here. We have work for you to do. Will you join us, Don?”

      “But why the hocus-pocus?” asked Don. “Why do you hide behind such a weird front as POSAT? Why do you advertise in magazines and invite just anyone to join? Why didn’t you approach me directly, if you have work for me to do? And if you really have the answers to our problems, why haven’t you gathered together all the scientists in the world to work on this project—before it’s too late?”

      Crandon took a sighing breath. “How I wish that we could do just that! But you forget that one of the prime purposes of our organization is to maintain the secrecy of our discoveries until they can be safely disclosed. We must be absolutely certain that anyone who enters this building will have joined POSAT before he leaves. What if we approached the wrong scientist? Centuries of accomplishment might be wasted if they attempted either to reveal it or to exploit it!

      “Do you recall the questionnaires that you answered before you were invited here? We fed the answers to this machine and, as a result, we know more about how you will react in any given situation than you do yourself. Even if you should fail to join us, our secrets would be safe with you. Of course, we miss a few of the scientists who might be perfect material for our organization. You’d be surprised, though, at how clever our advertisements are at attracting exactly the men we want. With the help of our new science, we have baited our ads well, and we know how to maintain interest. Curiosity is, to the men we want, a powerful motivator.”

      “But what about the others?” asked Don. “There must be hundreds of applicants who would be of no use to you at all.”

      “Oh, yes,” replied Crandon. “There are the mild religious fanatics. We enroll them as members and keep them interested by sending pamphlets in line with their interests. We even let them contribute to our upkeep, if they seem to want to. They never get beyond the reception room if they come to call on us. But they are additional people through whom we can act when the time finally comes.

      “There are also the desperate people who try POSAT as a last resort—lost ones who can’t find their direction in life. For them we put into practice some of our newly won knowledge. We rehabilitate them—anonymously, of course. Even find jobs or patch up homes. It’s good practice for us.

      “I think I’ve answered most of your questions, Don. But you haven’t answered mine. Will you join us?”

      Don looked solemnly at the orderly array of the computer before him. He had one more question.

      “Will it really work? Can it actually tell you how to motivate the stubborn, quarrelsome, opinionated people one finds on this Earth?”

      Crandon smiled. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

      Don nodded, his tense features relaxing.

      “Enroll me as a member,” he said.

      There were two important things—one, that she was very old; two, that Mr. Thirkell was taking her to God. For hadn’t he patted her hand and said: “Mrs. Bellowes, we’ll take off into space in my rocket, and go to find Him together.”

      And that was how it was going to be. Oh, this wasn’t like any other group Mrs. Bellowes had ever joined. In her fervor to light a path for her delicate, tottering feet, she had struck matches down dark alleys, and found her way to Hindu mystics who floated their flickering, starry eyelashes over crystal balls. She had walked on the meadow paths with ascetic Indian philosophers imported by daughters-in-spirit of Madame Blavatsky. She had made pilgrimages to California’s stucco jungles to hunt the astrological seer in his natural habitat. She had even consented to signing away the rights to one of her homes in order to be taken into the shouting order of a temple of amazing evangelists who had promised her golden smoke, crystal fire, and the great soft hand of God coming to bear her home.

      None of these people had ever shaken Mrs. Bellowes’ faith, even when she saw them sirened away

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