Red Star Tales Page 11

  All this changed suddenly in the nineteenth century. People were seized by an insane desire to instantly expand their power by a tenfold, a thousandfold, by mechanical means. Mastering the elemental forces of nature was the first goal of humankind. The second was developing specialized apparatuses to replace human labor, or, for that matter, the work done by beasts of burden and even natural forces. Finally, the third goal was the compression of space. The second objective could only be attained after the first, and the third only after the first two. But every new invention facilitated the perfection of its predecessors; they accumulated one after the other, augmenting and enhancing each another, resulting in an uninterrupted chain of technological developments with such wide-ranging influence and such a profound effect on human cognition that inventors became quite common. Every minimally intelligent person, having received some education, could invent something that would have immortalized a new Archimedes or Hieronymus two thousand years ago.

  In the matter of conquering the forces of nature two things stood out: mastering steam power and commanding the forces of electricity. The ancients were acquainted with both kinds of power, but they never dreamed of the range of their applications. Perhaps this was because the ancients, having access to another kind of elemental energy – slave labor – depended less on natural forces. The nineteenth century compelled steam to transport it and work for it. The first steamships breached the seas, iron needles of the railways tattooed all the nations from coast to coast; machines came to life, completing tasks in minutes that would have taken humans hours and even days. Electricity turned out to be even mightier. It replaced steam to a large extent, working more intensively, more comprehensively, all the while flooding cities and streets with its magical light: thoughts began to be transmitted at lightning speed across hundreds and thousands of miles, first along telegraph lines and then wirelessly, and voices traveled on the telephone; electricity preserved fleeting moments forever on the cylinder of the phonograph, the grooves of the gramophone record, and the cinematographer’s film; it brought to life wonders that could only be dreamed of in previous centuries. Diverse technological facilitators developed simultaneously with them: machines for sewing, weaving, carding, and spinning. Machines replaced humans in the fields, plowing, seeding, harvesting, hulling, and milling in their stead; machines replaced humans in the factory, and the men who formerly wielded the chisels, hammers, choppers, and anvils began to merely supervise the steel monsters; machines replaced humans at home, writing and cooking, washing and keeping accounts for them. Finally the machines called “internal combustion engines” were invented, which drove automobiles and ships with turbines, burrowed submarines under water, and unleashed dirigibles and airplanes in the sky...

  Such was the state of affairs at the cusp of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Steam, electricity, and “internal combustion engines” enabled humankind to conquer space. Not even taking into account the conquest of both poles, the penetration of desolate deserts, and flights to rival the birds, distances between points on the globe shrunk a hundred times. What used to be a journey of many weeks was now a matter of a day; places which, until recently, only fearless pioneers could breach became resorts for bored tourists; news of the day could be broadcast to readers in a few minutes; thoughts, perilously transmitted by slaves carrying letters along dangerous high roads in the distant past, could now be instantly transmitted via telegraph and telephone.

  Finally, humans have tapped into a new mighty form of energy: radium. This force was unknown in any previous era, although as far back as two thousand years ago people were treated with radioactive mud and witches exorcised the ailing with amulets containing a tiny piece of radium. But the twentieth century has put radium to a thousand uses. Humanity has forced radium not just to cure but also illuminate the body, and to serve its needs like steam and electricity. Machines powered by radioactivity have emerged, terrifying in their all-consuming power as well as in their ability to kill anyone who is not careful around them. These secret inventions contain the potentials of great benefit to humankind together with great harm to the uninitiated.

  The final frontier of the same era was the discovery of methods that came to be called “mutation,” that is the capacity of transforming one form of energy into another without complex mechanisms. Previously, for example, electricity was produced out of steam power. The mutation method enabled any form of energy to be converted into the most convenient one. The most salient example of this method consists of unleashing energy latent in radioactive materials, which were previously inaccessible for practical uses. In this way humanity gained virtually unlimited supplies of electrical energy, obtained, moreover, with such speed and force that its production exceeded the worldwide demand. The potential of using electric power became real in all walks of life, for all scientific, social, and personal applications in all human societies across the planet. Electricity was ready to be used everywhere and by everyone. It became as ubiquitous as air and perhaps even more so; every day, every minute, so much electric energy was produced that anyone could consume it at their discretion, at will, just for entertainment, and still count on unlimited amounts being held in endless reserve for hundreds of years thanks to the same mutation method – with the insignificant rate of loss at 0.0001% per year.

  This was the situation at the beginning of the age that saw notable initiatives of “technological cooperation” of all humankind and “technological organization of the entire globe.”

  II

  At that time, the population of the earth was – let’s round up the numbers – five billion people. A quarter of this population – perhaps even more than a quarter – lived in metropolitan cities, or the so-called capitals of the world, of which there were 122 with each city housing 10 million people. The same percentage, that is about a quarter more, lived in smaller cities and towns, of which there were several thousands with a population of a half million each. The other half of humanity, two and a half billion, were by the old definition agrarian people, although the term had lost its traditional meaning. Villages or hamlets did not exist in their old sense anymore. There were either small townships with specialized functions – factory-town, university-town, library-town, hospital-town – or isolated settlements of people working the land. They could be raising crops or digging for construction, or conversely engaged in forestry and animal husbandry; still others would just settle outside of town by personal preference. Superior communications made distances between these habitations immaterial: personal airplanes took people to the nearest underground station in a few minutes, from there to the nearest capital in half an hour by “automatic cigars,” and in a few more hours to any place in the world. If those who lived in these “miniature” specialized towns could be added to the “urban” population, it is obvious that almost the whole planet’s population had run to the urban centers. Outside the cities – that is between the polar caps, high mountains, and deep forest – lived a maximum of 400 to 450 million people, less that 10% of the earth’s population.

  City life, which is the only kind of life worth discussing in this day and age, was completely homogenous, thanks to the availability of electricity and other forms of energy discussed above. Physical labor, or indeed physical effort of any sort, almost completely disappeared from human life except in sports, athletics, and games. People still amused themselves by flying airplanes, riding electric trains, and sailing on motor submarines, and they still played ball and ran, swam, or jumped for exercise; there were still misfits who walked or rode bicycles, supported the old institution of boxing, and sparred at fencing matches, but all this belonged to the same sphere of entertainment as card games, billiards, or chess. People were so physically inactive that doctors had to issue warnings about muscular atrophy, decreased mobility, or impairments in arm movement.

  From the moment he awoke, man fell under the regime of the machines. An automatic alarm sounded at the time of awakening; dressing and was
hing took minimum effort with the help of automatic gadgets. Leaving an apartment in a multistoried building, he would press a button to call the elevator and descend directly to the depths of the “metropolitan” or “imperial,” depending on the destination. Automatic subterranean walkways would transport him without any physical effort to the final destination, whereupon another elevator would take him up to his place of work. Since every aspect of work was also automated, human effort was required only for accounting. All production was carried out by machines; all trade was automated; goods were transported from country to country and across oceans... [Editor’s note: the text ends here].

  First published in Russian: 1915

  Translation by Anindita Bannerjee

  * * *

  1. Parables usually convey a moral lesson. Modern fiction relies on its readers, or as the last resort critics, to discern the moral of a story. Following this convention, I am not going to lay bare the allegory behind my creation. But I can allow myself to make one note. In these days of the “great war,” when our opponents set all their hopes upon the technological superiority of Germany, perhaps it would not be so absurd to compose fiction that attempts to personify technology. The abyss towards which the German creed’s radical convictions lead us is the dark, menacing specter that stood before the author’s imagination as he conjured up the unbelievable story recounted here (Author’s note).

  RED STAR

  IN RETROGRADE

  ALEXANDER BELYAEV

  1926

  PROFESSOR DOWELL’S HEAD

  I. The First Encounter

  “Please, take a seat.”

  Miss Adams sank into a deep leather chair. While Professor Kern opened and read her letter, she glanced swiftly around his office.

  What a gloomy room! But a good place to work: there were no distractions. A lamp with an opaque shade cast just enough light to illuminate the writing desk, which was heaped with books, manuscripts and proof sheets. The solid black oak beneath was barely visible. The wallpaper and the curtains were dark-colored. Only the gold-seamed bindings in the heavy bookcases gleamed in the semi-darkness. An ancient wall-clock slowly and portentously measured out time with its long pendulum.

  Transferring her gaze to Kern, Miss Adams smiled at the thought that someone had very successfully styled him to match his office.

  His heavily built, rigid, solid frame looked like part of the furniture; it might have been carved out of the same black oak. His large glasses in their tortoiseshell frames resembled clock dials. His steel-grey pupils swung like pendulums, crossing from one line of her letter to the next. His right-angled nose, straight slash of a mouth and square, forward-thrusting chin gave his face the look of a stylized decorative mask, carved by a Cubist sculptor.

  You should see a mask like that above a mantelpiece and not a writing table, Miss Adams thought.

  “My colleague Smith has already spoken about you. Yes, I need an assistant. You’re a medic? Excellent. Seven dollars a day. You’ll be paid every week. The work isn’t difficult. But I impose one non-negotiable condition.”

  Drumming his dry fingers on the desk, Professor Kern asked an unexpected question.

  “Can you be silent?... Women are all so talkative! You’re a woman – that’s unfortunate. You’re an attractive woman – that’s even worse.”

  “But what has that got to do with—”

  “Everything! It has everything to do with it. An attractive woman is a woman twice over. That means she has twice as many feminine failings. If you haven’t got one yet, you’ll soon have a husband, or a fiancé, or a gentleman friend. And then all secrets will go to the devil!”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts’! You must be as dumb as a fish. You must keep silent about everything you hear here. Can you accept this condition? I must warn you: failure to observe this condition will entail extremely unpleasant consequences for yourself. Extremely unpleasant!”

  Miss Adams was puzzled and intrigued.

  “I’m willing, provided there isn’t anything not entirely—”

  “Anything criminal, you wanted to say? You may put yourself completely at ease. Nor are you in danger of being saddled with any responsibility. Are your nerves in good condition?”

  “I’m healthy…”

  Professor Kern nodded. His dry, sharp finger pressed the button of an electric bell.

  The door opened silently. In the half-darkness of the room, as if on a half-exposed photographic plate, Miss Adams could just see the shining whites of a pair of eyes; then the glint of a Negro’s gleaming face gradually appeared. His black hair and suit melted into the dark curtain behind the doorway.

  “John, show this young lady the laboratory.”

  The Negro nodded, inviting her to follow, and opened a second door.

  Miss Adams entered a completely dark room.

  A switch clicked, and the brilliant light from a hemispherical ceiling lamp filled the room. Miss Adams involuntarily covered her eyes. After the gloom of the office, the pure whiteness of the walls was blinding. The glass panels of the cupboards shone with glittering surgical instruments. The steel and aluminium of various apparatuses shone with a cold light. Polished copper components reflected a heavy, yellow gleam. Pipes, retorts, machines. Glass and metal.

  In the middle of the room stood a large dissecting table. The headless corpse of a man lay on the table with the rib-cage exposed. By the table was a glass case, holding a pulsating human heart. Narrow tubes led from the heart to various containers.

  Miss Adams turned her head away; suddenly she saw something that made her shudder as if from an electric shock.

  A human head was watching her – only the head, without a torso.

  It had been fixed to a square glass panel, which was supported by four tall, shiny metallic legs. From the severed neck and the arteries, two tubes led away to the containers through an opening in the glass. A third, thicker tube connected the head to a large cylinder. The cylinder and the containers were supplied with taps, manometers, thermometers, and other devices Miss Adams didn’t recognize.

  The head looked at her attentively and sorrowfully, blinking its eyelids. There could be no doubt that the head was alive. Separated from its body, it led an independent and fully conscious existence.

  In spite of the shocking sight before her, Miss Adams could not fail to notice that this head looked astonishingly similar to a famous scientist who had died not long before, the surgeon Professor Dowell, celebrated for his experiments with the revival of organs extracted from fresh corpses. Miss Adams had attended his brilliant public lectures more than once, and she clearly remembered that high forehead, the distinctive profile, the wavy light-brown hair and beard silvered with grey, the sky-blue eyes… Yes, this was Professor Dowell’s head! Only his lips and nose had become sharper, drier, his temples and cheeks drawn in, his eyes had sunk into their sockets, and his white skin had acquired the dark-yellow tinge of a mummy’s. But living, human awareness sparkled in his eyes.

  Miss Adams felt her the roots of her hair tingling. But, as if she’d been bewitched, she couldn’t look away from those pale blue eyes. The head soundlessly moved its lips.

  That was too much for Miss Adams’ nerves. She sensed that she was close to fainting. The Negro supported her and led her out of the laboratory.

  “This is horrible… it’s horrible,” Miss Adams said over and over, sinking into the armchair.

  Professor Kern drummed his fingers on the table without speaking.

  “Tell me, was that really the head of…”

  “Of Professor Dowell? Yes, it’s his head. The head of Dowell, my late respected colleague, whom I restored to life. Unfortunately, I was only able to resurrect his head. We can’t have it all at once! Even so, we scientists are invading the ‘inalterable laws’ of nature, challenging death itself and snatching their daily bread from miracle-workers and from God himself. But we can’t have it all at once, as I say! Poor Dowell was suffering from a di
sease for which there is still no cure. As he was dying, he willed his body to be used for the scientific experiments that he and I had carried out together. ‘My entire life has been dedicated to science. I hope my death may serve science too. I would prefer for my body to be excavated by a fellow scholar, not a graveyard worm,’ he said. That was Professor Dowell’s legacy. And so I took his body. I managed not only to resurrect his heart, but his consciousness – his ‘soul,’ to use the terminology of the masses. What’s horrible about that? Until now, people have always thought death was horrible. Hasn’t humanity been dreaming of resurrection from the dead for a thousand years?”

  “I would prefer death to such a resurrection.”

  Professor Kern gestured vaguely with one hand.

  “Well, yes, it has its inconveniences for the person resurrected. It would be unpleasant for poor Dowell to be shown to the public in this… incomplete condition. That’s why we’re keeping this experiment a secret, by Dowell’s own wish. Moreover, we still haven’t completed the experiment.”

  “And how did Professor Dowell – that is, his head – express this wish? Can the head speak?”

  For just a moment, Professor Kern looked embarrassed.

  “No… Professor Dowell’s head doesn’t speak. But it listens, understands and manages to reply with facial expressions…”

  And clearly wishing to change the subject, he asked, “And so, will you accept my offer? Excellent! I shall expect you tomorrow by nine in the morning. But remember: silence, silence, and silence!”