“They’re going to think it’s a Capitalist plot. They’re going to think we did it.”
“What purpose could they conceivably think we had?”
“To trap them into starting a war. Of course they intended to start one anyway—it’s just been a question of which of us started it first, now that, since their development of atomics, they’ve had time to stock-pile—but they probably think right now that for some reason we want them to make the first move. So they won’t; at least not until they’ve waited a while.”
“General Wilkinson,” said the President, “I know it is early for you to have received many reports as yet from our espionage agents in Europe and Asia, but the few that you have received—indicate what?”
“That they’re doing just what were doing, sir. Sitting tight and wondering. There have been no troop movements, either toward borders or away from them.”
“Thank you, General.”
“Dr. Burke,” said the President, “I have been informed that the Council of United Churches has been in session all night. From the fact that you look as tired as I feel, I judge that is correct.”
The most famous minister in the United States nodded, smiling faintly. “And is it your opinion—I mean the opinion of your council—that last night’s occurrence was of supernatural origin?”
“Almost unanimously, Mr. President.”
“Then let’s ignore the minority opinion of your group and concentrate on what you almost unanimously believe. Is it that the—we may as well call it miracle, since we are discussing it on the assumption that it was of supernatural origin—was of divine or diabolical origin? More simply, was it God or the devil?”
“There, Mr. President, we have an almost even split of opinion. Approximately half of us believe that Satan accomplished it somehow. The other half that God did. Shall I outline briefly the arguments of either faction?”
“Please.”
“The Satan group. The fact that the command was an evil one. Against the argument that God is sufficiently more powerful than Satan to have prevented the manifestation, the Satan group countered quite legitimately that God—in his infinite wisdom—may have permitted it, knowing the effect is likely to be the reverse of what Satan intended.”
“I see, Dr. Burke.”
“And the opposing group. The fact that, because of the perversity of human nature, the ultimate effect of the command is going to be good rather than stupid. Against the Satan group’s argument that God could not issue an evil command, even for a laudable purpose, the counter-argument is that man cannot understand God sufficiently to place any limitation whatever upon what He can or cannot, would or would not, do.”
The President nodded. “And does either group advocate obeying the command?”
“Definitely not. To those who believe the command came from Satan, disobedience is automatic. Those who believe the command came from God aver that those who believe in Him are sufficiently intelligent and good to recognize the command as divine irony.”
“And the Satan group, Doctor—do they believe the devil is not smart enough to know that his command may backfire?”
“Evil is always stupid, Mr. President.”
“And your personal opinion, Dr. Burke? You have not said to which faction you belong.”
The minister smiled. “I am one of the very small faction which does not accept that the phenomenon was of supernatural origin at all, either from God or the devil.”
“Then whom do you believe X to be, Doctor?”
“My personal guess is that X is extra-terrestrial. Perhaps as near as Mars, perhaps as far as another Galaxy.”
The President sighed and said, “No, Walter, I simply cannot take time out for lunch. If you’ll bring me a sandwich here, I’ll have to apologize to my next visitor or two for eating while I talk. And coffee, lots of coffee.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Just a minute, Walter. The telegrams that have been coming in since eight-thirty last night—how many are there now?”
“Well over forty thousand, sir. We’ve been working at classifying them, but we’re several thousand behind.”
“And?”
The presidential secretary said, “From every class—ministers, truck drivers, crackpots, business leaders, everybody. Offering every theory possible—but pretty much only one conclusion. No matter who they think instigated that broadcast or why, they want to disobey its command. Yesterday, I would say that nine-tenths of our population was resigned to war; well over half thought we ought to start it first. Today—well, there’s always a lunatic fringe; about one telegram out of four hundred thinks we should go to war. The others—well, I think that today a declaration of war would cause a revolution, Mr. President.”
“Thank you, Walter.”
The secretary turned at the doorway. “A report from the army recruiting corps—enlistments thus far today have been fifteen—throughout the entire country. An average day for the past month, up to noon, was about eight thousand. I’ll send in your sandwich, sir.”
“Professor Winslow, I hope you will pardon my eating this sandwich while we talk. You are, I am told, professor of semantics at New York University, and the top man in your field?”
Professor Winslow smiled deprecatingly. “You would hardly expect me to agree to that, Mr. President. I presume you wish to ask questions about last night’s—uh—broadcast?”
“Exactly. What are your conclusions?”
“The word ‘fight’ is hardly analyzable. Whether it was meant in fact or in reverse is a matter for the psychologists—and even they are having grave difficulty with it, until and unless they learn who gave that command.”
The President nodded.
“But, Mr. President, the rest of the broadcast, the phrase in another voice that preceded the command. ‘And now a word from our sponsor’—that is something which should give us something to work on, especially as we have studied it carefully in many languages, and worked out fully the connotation of every word.”
“Your conclusion?”
“Only this; that it was carefully worded, designed, to conceal the identity of the broadcaster or broadcasters. Quite successfully. We can draw no worthwhile conclusions.”
“Dr. Abrams, has any correlating phenomenon been noticed at your or any other observatory?”
“Nothing, Mr. President.” The little man with the gray goatee smiled quietly. “The stars are all in their courses. Nothing observable is amiss with the universe. I fear I can give you no help—except my personal opinion.”
“Which is?”
“That—regardless of the meaning, pro or con, of the command to fight—the opening phrase meant exactly what it said. That we are sponsored.”
“By whom? God?”
“I am an agnostic, Mr. President. But I do not rule out the possibility that man isn’t the highest natural being in the universe. It’s quite large, you know. Perhaps we’re an experiment conducted by someone—in another dimension, anywhere. Perhaps, generally speaking, we’re allowed to go our way for the sake of the experiment. But we almost went too far, this time, toward destroying ourselves and ending the experiment. And he didn’t want it ended. So—” He smiled gently. “—a word from our sponsor.”
The President leaned forward across the desk, almost spilling his coffee. “But, if that is true, was the word meant?”
“I think that whether it was meant—in the sense in which you mean the word ‘meant’—is irrelevant. If we have a sponsor, he must know what its effect will be, and that effect—whether it be war or peace—is what he wanted to achieve.”