Sam Merwin

“ There was a rueful twist to Ortine's half-smile. "I am not, in any real way, possessed of what you would term supernatural equipment. What may look like magic to you is nothing more than a demonstration of the realities of my own universe."
"But...?" said Justin.
"But"—Ortine grimaced—"I have no actual control over the minds or bodies of human beings. Not on their own world at any rate. Incidentally I have no control over your mind here on Belvoir, though actually, while here, you are in my type of space rather than your own. ”

“ Justin asked him.
"Because of the risk," replied Ortine. "Suppose, as a man, I were killed accidentally or murdered. Suppose, as a woman, I conceived again—I can assure you my desires in such matters are perhaps even stronger than those of your species.
"Each such accident—and in the early days I had my share—is weakening. I have only so much life force and no means of replenishing that which is spent—not in this universe. Hence I have had to indulge in what you might term economy of forces."
"Playing the devil...." Justin reminded him. ”

“ Justin told him calmly.
"You're risking the person you love most," said Ortine.
"Not yet," replied Justin. "And here's something else that has me stopped—if you're so anxious to save our planet from its so-called ruin, why are you taking the very steps that will lead to its speedy destruction?"
"Consider," said Ortine, regaining his self control, "if my plan is followed your planet will suffer a certain retrogression, of course. Now think what such a retrogression will mean—it will mean no A-bomb, no airplanes, none of the modern destructive machinery. ”

“ It occurred to him that if not a dream it must be madness. And then, for the first time, he began to wonder if the journey by train through space, if Belvoir and its inhabitants, especially Ortine and the assignment he had outlined, might not be real after all.
Even before the gates of fantasy closed behind him, Justin had recognized that his decision to back Henri Dubois could well be the key to the entire future of Missionism. As such it was entirely possible that upon that decision might depend the immediate future of humanity—if humanity still had a future. ”

“ For a Christ without his martyrdom would no longer be a Christ."
"I had no idea you'd be shocked," said Ortine, puzzled.
"I'm not shocked," replied Justin. "What has me baffled, Ortine, is your true purpose. You say that the salvation of our world rests upon elimination of all but those you choose to call sane men—the dull plodding fellows who never upset applecarts. Are you sure that these human vegetables are the ones to make a world worth living in?"
"Possibly not," said Ortine, unabashed. "But they will at least make a world in which people can live. ”

“ Justin asked quietly.
"Because, thanks to certain differences of structure between our universe and yours, we can follow the whole stream of your time," Ortine replied matter-of-factly. "Your past, of course, is not dead—you have already seen proof of that here on Belvoir—nor is your future yet unborn. In short, the past still exists, the future does exist." ”

“ Ortine said, "You have reared quite a structure upon a few involuntary hints, a smidgin of knowledge and a long train of intuition." He smiled ruefully, added, "I might as well confess you are remarkably close to the truth—not a bullseye but close."
"Thank you for that," said Justin ironically.
"You needn't feel too proud of yourself," Ortine told him. "I suppose the indications are there for anyone to read who is able to. You're right about my mission. ”

“ She regarded him gravely, then said, "Prithee, Charles, if I be thy dream, then how is it that thou art mine? For surely, never in my deepest sleep, have I e'er dreamed of a man like thyself."
He reached out and touched her and the softness of her flesh, beneath the now-limp nightgown, was as real as the touch of his own. Sudden terror struck him as he accepted emotionally for the first time the fact that Belvoir might not be a substance created by his own subconscious. If Belvoir were real, then he would never see her again. ”

“ Justin said, "It must be quite a job supplying each of these people with the food they want."
"'Tis truly remarkable, Master Charles," the girl told him. "Faith, never in my wildest dreams have I conceived of such a miracle."
"I wish you wouldn't call me 'Master Charles'," Justin said.
"And how else should I call thee?" she inquired.
"It's that 'Master' business," he explained. "In my time it means a boy, not a man. Just as 'Mistress', in my era, implies a kept woman rather than a wife." ”

“ Old Boston held Justin tightly in its grip even after he turned the key in his own lock and entered his house on Louisburg Square. For the house, if not quite Federalist, dated back to the early era of Clipper Ship affluence. Fine white paneling, graceful mahogany banisters, blue-and-gold silk wall covering of heavy Chinese silk, Sheraton furniture, Revere silverware—all combined to retain illusion of a past still alive. ”

“ It is my mission to alter both Earth's past and its future by effecting the course of the key events of your history."
"It sounds like rather a large order," said Justin.
"It is," Ortine replied simply. "While our time-span is far different from yours—I suppose I have existed for several thousand of your years—it is the first such assignment in my memory or that of my mentors."
"Then you cannot follow your own past and future," said Justin.
"Unfortunately not." Ortine looked unhappy. "No species has ever been able to do that reliably. We are all trapped within the span of our own time. ”

“ If I were to wipe out humanity, as I easily could, I should myself die."
"I think I understand," Justin told him, frowning. "By removing human imagination—you call it madness—you plan not only to reduce human population to a nubbin but to rig things so that the remnants will eliminate themselves in a manner practically painless to yourself. Am I right?"
Ortine hesitated, then said, "Consider again the man with appendicitis. If it bursts and he has no proper medical care he will die. ”

“ A gong rang in Justin's memory. He said, "Where does Sam Adams live?"
"Ye know of him?" she countered, added, "That big run-down house at the next corner. What would ye of Master Adams, Charles?"
"Never mind, honey," he told her but his thoughts were humming. Sam Adams, of course—here was his opportunity, not only to survive in Old Boston, but to do it creditably in Deborah's eyes. Surely the so-called father of the Revolution would not be able to refuse the aid of a man who knew the course of the future.
Anxiety struck him. He said, "You aren't a supporter of the Court Party are you, Debby?" ”

“ Ortine inquired caustically.
"I'll tell you why," replied Justin. "You've got to get away because we're beginning to learn too much. Sooner or later the existence of this ship of yours is going to be discovered—you are going to be discovered. And when that happens, you're in the wrong galaxy and your physical weapons will be as useless as your psychological weapons are useless against an educated mind and spirit." ”

“ Why, I retired to my bed on a February evening in seventeen sixty-one, to dream of the great white ship that would carry me far from prosaic Boston to some fine city overseas, instead of which the ship brought me here to Belvoir."
"I'll be damned!" said Justin, stunned not only by the date of Deborah's transfer to Belvoir but by the similarity of her experience to his own.
"Methinks we are all damned," said Deborah Wilkins. "Certes we are not in heaven unless our good pastors have been led sorely astray. ”

“ Justin said, "I must say, everyone seems to know more about my intentions than I do myself. But let's say I do arrange to let him have some money—just how is that going to drive the sun into nova?"
"Henri Dubois," Ortine stated, "is perhaps the most dangerous type of madman that exists. His madness takes the form of a fanatical oversimplification of the virtues through which mankind can hope to attain happiness." ”

“ Ortine paused, added, "Your species is aggressive too. As I have already told you, we are very similar."
"Why not simply cut and run and then come back in force and destroy us?" countered Justin.
"Time is much less simple than you people seem to think," said Ortine. "The few months it would require us to organize such an expedition in my universe would be the equivalent of several centuries in this one. And by that time, if you have not destroyed yourselves, you may know as much as we." ”

“ Then, "One more question, doctor—what does Ortine want you to do about him—flunk him?"
"My dear fellow, how can I flunk a chap who isn't even a student?" Dr. Phillips' tone was mildly reproachful. "No, all he wants me to do is refuse him admission to the university. I was already of half a mind to do so anyway. Can't think why Ortine should go to all this trouble."
"Probably he just likes to be sure," said Justin. Within him a glow of fresh exultation was forming. Each of them had been brought here because, at some time or other, he had made a decision favorable to one of the so-called madmen. ”

“ Ortine replied, "You should know better than that, Justin. Why should I trouble to bring all of you here, why should I have spent the time and labor I have on this experiment—when I could blast your planet out of hand?"
Justin studied him for a moment, then said, "I can think of a pair of possible reasons, Ortine. One—your extra-space weapons might not be effective in this universe. Two—from some of the things you have dropped about polymorphous conception and birth, you may not be able to dis-ally yourself from humanity so easily." ”

“ The red-headed man's voice was sharp as the crack of an Australian bullwhip. He said, "That's Will Molineux!" Then, fiercely, to Justin, "What have ye done to bring Will and his cutthroats on ye'r tail?"
"I had a little trouble with Mr. Adams," Justin murmured.
"So!" The big man took a menacing step toward him. He glanced at Deborah, who appeared stricken, then said, "'Twould appear there is more in this entire episode than meets the eye. Mayhap ye'r one with my wretched wife and her wretched Tory friends." ”

“ Justin told him. "Now tell me—why are you here? And why do you want me?"
Ortine flicked ashes on the floor, which immediately absorbed them. He said, "I have been sent here to prevent your planet from destroying itself and probably forcing your sun into nova.
"For while your sun is not a great star it lies in an area correspondent to one of the most congested and thickly settled areas of my universe. It is not supposed to go into the nova stage for some billions of your years. ”

“ Justin asked him quietly. Behind him Deborah gasped again and Justin reached out a hand for her to hold. A faint stirring of her fingers suggested she must be crossing herself.
Ortine looked distressed. He said, "Really, there was nothing deliberate about it. It's something that—well, it just happened." He dropped his cigarette onto the floor, pulled out his case, offered a smoke to Justin.
"Consider my mission. To perform it successfully it was vital that I should become intimately acquainted with humanity not merely on the surface but inside, where fears and motives dwell. ”

“ Justin said curiously, "that if mankind follows the Golden Rule it will destroy the world—how?"
"Because," Ortine replied patiently, "neither Dubois nor any other man will be able to get enough people to do as he wishes. Yet if he obtains backing from you he will be able to spread his doctrine to enough people so that the natural enemies of the Golden Rule will be forced to take action against them. ”

“ Ortine nodded. "Right—Marcus Rutilius Catanio. A very well-balanced young man."
Justin said, "When you first discussed with me the madmen of history who have succeeded—you'll pardon an apparent digression—it occurred to me afterward that you failed to mention the Christ."
Ortine made a deprecatory gesture. "My dear fellow, I can never be certain how deep such spiritual beliefs go in any of you humans. I thought it more tactful...."
"This Marcus Rutilius What's-his-name," Justin went on. "From what Dr. Phillips just told me, it is his job to prevent the Christ from going to Jerusalem." ”

“ Justin reached for the bottle to refill his glass, added, "I know Marie. Since she has no intention of facing facts you'll never get out of the batter's box professionally. Personally? Well, she has no intention of giving me any grounds for divorce. Not that I wouldn't appreciate some, Jack."
The psychiatrist said, "Charley, there's just one sort of human that absolutely baffles a man in my profession—that's an absolutely sane man."
"Oh, come, Jack," said Justin. "All sanity is relative." ”

“ Men are always struggling because of some shibboleth, killing others who disagree with their pathetic beliefs."
"Not a pretty picture," mused Justin. Then, rallying, "But it is only part of the story. Men have done great things as well."
"True," replied Ortine easily, "and they would have been free for greater accomplishments if they hadn't been oppressed down the ages by a series of influential madmen. Some of them, of course, were foiled by the sane men around them. Consider Napoleon, Charles the Twelfth, Julius Caesar, Aaron Burt, Bolivar, Joan of Arc, Adolph Hitler. ”