He glanced around the table and his face was set and white. “Gentlemen, what is happening tonight all over the world is beyond science—our science, at any rate.”
“It can’t be,” said the Secretary of Labor. “Damn it, Mr. President, there’s got to be an explanation.”
“Further experiments—much more delicate and decisive ones—are being arranged, especially for the non-daylight-saving areas of the Pacific Time Zone, where we still have four hours to arrange them. And the top scientists of California will be on the job.” The President took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Until we have their reports and analyses, early tomorrow morning, shall we adjourn, gentlemen?”
The Defense Secretary frowned. “But, Mr. President, the purpose of our conference tonight was not to discuss this mysterious broadcast. Can we not get back to the original issue?”
“Do you really think that any major step should even be contemplated before we know what happened tonight—is happening tonight, I should say?”
“If we don’t start the war, Mr. President, need I point out again who will? And the tremendous—practically decisive—advantage of taking the first step, gaining the offensive?”
“And obey the order in the broadcast?” growled the Secretary of Labor. “Why not? Weren’t we going to do just that anyway, because we had to?”
“Mr. Secretary,” the President said slowly. “That order was not addressed to us specifically. That broadcast was heard—is being heard—all over the world, in all languages. But even if it was heard only here, and only in our own language, I would certainly hesitate to obey a command until I knew from whom that command came. Gentlemen, do you fully realize the implications of the fact that our top scientists, thus far at any rate, could not conceivably duplicate the conditions of that broadcast? That means either one of two things: that whoever produced the phenomenon is possessed of a science beyond ours, or that the phenomenon is of supernatural origin.”
The Secretary of Commerce said softly, “My God.”
The President looked at him. “Not unless your god is either Mars or Satan, Mr. Weatherby.”
The hour of 8:30 P.M. had, several hours before, reached and passed the International Date Line. It was still 8:30 P.M. somewhere but not of June 9th, 1954. The mysterious broadcast was over.
It was dawn in Washington, D. C. The President, in his private office, was still interviewing, one after another, the long succession of experts who had been summoned—and brought by fast planes—to Washington for the purpose.
His face was haggard with weariness, his voice a trifle hoarse.
“Mr. Adams,” he said to the current visitor, “you are, I am given to understand, the top expert on electronics—particularly as applied to radio—in this country. Can you offer any conceivable physical explanation of the method used by X?”
“X?”
“I should have explained; we are now using that designation for convenience to indicate the—uh—originator of the broadcast, whether singular or plural, human, extraterrestrial, or supernatural—either diabolical or divine.”
“I see. Mr. President, it could not have been done with our knowledge of science. That is all I can say.”
“And your conclusion?”
“I have none.”
“Your guess, then.”
The visitor hesitated. “My guess, Mr. President, outrageous as it seems, is that somewhere on Earth exists a cabal of scientists of whom we do not know, who have operated in secret and carried electronics a step—or several steps—beyond what is generally known.”
“And their purpose?”
“I would say, again a guess, their purpose is to throw the world into war to enable them to take over and rule the world. Indubitably, they had other—and more deadly—devices for later use, after a war has weakened us.”
“Then you do not believe war would be advisable?”
“My God, no, Mr. President!”
“Mr. Everett,” said the President. “Your theory of a cabal of scientists corresponds with one I heard only a few minutes ago from a colleague of yours. Except for one thing. He believes that their purpose is evil—to precipitate war so they can take over. You believe, if I understand you correctly, that their purpose is benevolent.”
“Exactly, sir. For one thing, if they’re that good in electronics, they’re probably that good in other fields. They wouldn’t need to precipitate a war in order to take over. I think they are operating secretly to prevent war, to give mankind a chance to advance. But they know enough of human nature to know that men are pretty apt to do the opposite of what they are told. But that’s psychology, which is not my field. I understand you are also interviewing some psychologists?”
“Yes,” said the President, wearily.
“Then, if I understand you correctly, Mr. Corby,” said the President, “you believe that the command to fight was designed to produce the opposite effect, whoever gave it?”
“Certainly, sir. But I must admit that all of my colleagues do not agree with me. They make exceptions.”
“Will you explain the exceptions?”
“The major one is the possibility that the broadcast was of extra-terrestrial origin. An extra-terrestrial might or might not know enough of human psychology to realize that the command in question is likely—if not certain—to have the opposite effect. A lesser possibility is that—if a group of Earth scientists, operating secretly, produced the broadcasts, they might have concentrated on the physical sciences as against the mental, and be ignorant of psychology to the extent that—well, they would defeat their purpose.”
“Their purpose being to start war?”
“Not my opinion, Mr. President. Only a consideration. I think they are trying to prevent war.”
“In which case the command was psychologically sound?”
“Yes. And that is not opinion solely. Mr. President, people have been awake all night organizing peace societies, not only here, but all over the world.”
“All over?”
“Well—we don’t know, of course, what is going on behind the Iron Curtain. And circumstances are different there. But in my opinion, a movement for peace will have arisen there, too, although it may not have been able to organize, as elsewhere.”
“Suppose, Mr. Corby, your idea of a group of benevolent scientists—or ones who think they are benevolent scientists—are back of it. What then?”
“What then? We’d damn well better not start a war—or anybody else either. If they’re that good in electronics, they’ve got other stuff. They’ll like as not utterly destroy whatever country makes an aggressive move first!”
“And if their purpose is malevolent?”
“Are you joking, Mr. President? We’d be playing right into their hands to start a war. We wouldn’t last ten days.”
“Mr. Lykov, you are recommended to me as the top expert on the psychology of the Russian people under Communism. What is your opinion as to how they will react to what happened last night?”