“We have eliminated wars and prevented large-scale starvation. But just barely. We can handle twenty billions of population— but only if we keep the worldwide society absolutely stable.”
Kobryn’s voice took on a ring of steel at those words. “We must have stability. At any price. All our computer predictions and all our best social planners come to the same conclusion: unless we have stability, this crowded world of ours will crumble into chaos—starvation, disease, war, barbarism. Without stability, we will destroy ourselves and poison this planet completely.”
There was a long, silent moment while Kobryn stared at them from the viewscreen, letting his words sink in. No one in the audience spoke. The quiet was broken only by somebody’s cough and the nervous shuffling of feet.
“The price we must pay for stability is progress. You and your work are part of that price.”
Now everyone stirred. A sort of collective sigh went through the big room, almost a gasp but not strong enough. More worried and afraid than shocked or angry.
Kobryn went on, “Most of you are geneticists and biochemists. You have proven in recent experiments that you can alter the genetic material in a fertilized ovum, so that you can control the physical and mental characteristics of the baby that is ultimately born. Professor DeVreis, you yourself told me that within a few years, you could produce a superman—”
“Yes,” DeVreis agreed in his rickety, aged voice. “A superman… or a zombie, a slave with bulging muscles and just enough intelligence to follow orders.”
“Just so,” Kobryn said, his face expressionless. “In either case, the result would be a complete shattering of society’s stability. We cannot allow this to happen.”
“Can’t allow…”
“What does he mean?”
“You can’t stop science!”
“Gentlemen, please!” Kobryn raised his voice. “Think a moment! No matter how attractive the picture you have of raising a race of supermen, you must realize that it will never come to pass. Who will be the first superman? How will you select? Don’t you understand that twenty billions of people will bury you in their stampede to have their children made into godlings? Or worse still, they might slaughter the first few supermen you produce in an insane fit of fear and jealousy.”
“No, it wouldn’t happen that way—”
“We wouldn’t let…”
“No matter how you look at it, any large-scale tampering with mankind’s genetic heritage will destroy society as we know it. Believe me! We have spent a year and more examining this question. The best computers and social engineers in the world have labored on the problem. Our world needs stability. Genetic engineering is a de-stabilizing element, a wild card that will destroy society. The government cannot permit this.”
“But it will create a better society! A world of supermen!”
Kobryn shook his head. “No! It will create chaos. Look at what happened in the last century, when vast groups of peoples suddenly became aware that they could be free of the social systems that had enslaved them. When the last vestiges of the European empires were removed from Asia and Africa, when the American Negro and the world’s youth realized that they had political power, what happened? Was there a peaceful march toward a happy society? No, nothing of the sort. There were wars and revolutions, riots and assassinations—it took nearly the entire twentieth century before an equilibrium was reached. And for most of that time the world population was below five billions!
“Now, we have in our grasp this possibility of genetic engineering, the possibility of making our children into godlings—or slaves. Do you think the people of the world will stand patiently in line, waiting for you to work your miracle on them? Don’t you understand that many would-be tyrants would use your knowledge to produce the zombies Professor DeVreis spoke of? In a world of twenty billions, we would never recover from such a violent upset to the social order. There would be no new equilibrium, only chaos. Our world would come crashing down in anarchy and noting. Your laboratories would be destroyed, and you yourselves would be torn to pieces by the mobs.”
There were a few halfhearted protests from the audience.
Finally Kobryn said grimly, “The government has decided that all research in genetic engineering must be stopped. Therefore, we have brought the leaders in this work to this meeting. You and your colleagues—some two thousand scientists, in all—are to be exiled.”
“Exiled!”
“What?”
“But you can’t…”
“Permanently exiled, together with your immediate families, aboard an orbital satellite that has been set aside especially for you.”
Kaufman was on his feet “You can’t do that! We’re citizens and we have constitutional rights!”
“The world constitution specifically gives the Legislative Assembly the power to suspend constitutional guarantees in cases of extreme emergency,” Kobryn replied “Last week, the Assembly voted and approved your exile. The World Court has reviewed the situation and found that we are acting in a perfectly legal manner.”
Kaufman stood there for a moment, hand up as if there was another point he wanted to make. Then slowly, like an inflated doll collapsing from a leak, he crumpled back onto his chair.
“No one regrets this drastic action more that the Council of Ministers,” Kobryn said to the silent audience. “You men and women represent the world’s best scientists. But for the safety and stability of the world’s billions, a few thousand must be sacrificed. Your living conditions aboard the satellite, though rather crowded, will be as pleasant and even luxurious as they can be made to be. We do not wish to harm you. We have tried to find an alternate solution to the problem. There is none. And it is absolutely imperative that your work in genetic engineering is not allowed to affect mankind. We are trying to avert disaster. I hope you understand.”
“Filthy liar,” Kon muttered.
Frederick stood up and called out, “My name is Clark Frederick. I’m neither a geneticist nor a biochemist, but a rocket engineer. A few of my colleagues are here too. Are we included in this exile? And if so, why?”
Kobryn glanced away, at something or somebody out of camera range. Then he looked down, as if quickly reading something.
“Ah Dr. Frederick, yes. You and several other scientists and engineers who have been working on interstellar rockets are also included—I regret to say. It was decided that your work could also upset the stability of society, and…” Kobryn shrugged, as if to say. You know the rest.
Frederick’s face turned red with anger. “How in blazes can rockets to Alpha Centari or Barnard’s Star upset the social equilibrium on Earth?”
“Let me explain,” said Kobryn “If the masses of people on Earth believed that starships could transport them to new worlds, new planets of other stars, there might be millions who would seek out this new frontier. As you know full well, only a pitiful handful could ever hope to travel in a starship. It’s much too expensive for true colonization.”
“Of course. Everyone knows that,” Frederick replied.
“No, not everyone The great masses of people would expect your starships to transport them to new worlds, where they could begin new lives, free of Earth. And when we would tell them that this is impossible, they would not believe us. The result would be protests, riots, uprisings.” Kobryn shook his head “We cannot permit it. I am truly sorry.”