Walter Kubilius

“ You've come here to kill all of us! You came here to destroy the factory! You came here to stop the machines! It's you who wanted the war!"
"No. No." Millet insisted, "we are not going to do anything. Nothing, you understand, nothing. There's no war going on. No war."
"No war!" she cried, "there's always war! Always! The Day will come, my father told me and his father told him. There's always war! Always! the day has come!" ”

“ Nowhere could they find a single soul.
"They must all be at the factory," Johnson said.
"And the children?"
"In schools and nurseries." "But they can't all be in factories and schools," protested Weaver. "There's nobody home or in the streets. Nobody!"
"Let's look into a factory," Millet suggested.
In the center of the city they found two factories. Both were of tremendous size, stretching for many times the size of a city block. From their mighty stacks stretched black fingers of smoke. A strange feeling of age hung about the factory. ”

“ They'll keep on building those bombers till the machines are worn out and become dust!"
"But the people—the people!" Weaver protested.
"The people!" Millet snorted, "Did you hear the phonograph droning over and over again: you must work—you must work—you must work! Over and over again for two hundred years! It enters into the blood! The child is born and hears those words; you must work—you must work—you must work! He spends his days in the factory—watching and watching until the day that his father dies. Then he too goes up to his positions—working—working—working. ”

“ Millet shouted to Weaver, trying to make himself heard above the din of the factory, "Giant warplanes!"
"Why hasn't anyone stopped us?" Weaver asked as they strolled under the wings of the bomber and out into the open air, "Nobody even looked at us while we walked through the whole plant!"
'Suppose they're too busy," Johnson grunted.
"Did you see the children?" Weaver asked again. "Even children! What a factory! It's like a tomb!"
"Efficient though, isn't it?" Millet smiled, "They're getting the bombers out fast enough. Let's see where they take them." ”

“ The place was a roaring factory in full blast. Giant cranes screeched along, carrying in their iron hands heavy machines which were placed in position by the waiting workmen. Long lines of coarsely clad men and women stood by the conveyors, each with his or her task. Some of the men handled the delicate tools. Others, the women and the children, did nothing but
watch and sometimes help when a moving mass of machines on the belt rumbled and shook as it rolled on a bumpy part of the conveyor. ”

“ Always be careful," the booming voice in the factory rang out. "Do not make mistakes. Efficiency counts above all else. Efficiency! Work carefully. Work carefully. Work carefully. Work carefully and enjoy your work. Enjoy your work. Enjoy your work because it is your work. ”

“ Slowly Millet, Weaver and Johnson began to get the complete picture of the strange factory. Huge boxes were brought in from the outside, obviously from the second factory, and were unpacked. The machinery and parts were assorted and distributed. Motors were sent to one place, girders, wires, steel, plates and glass to other places. The trio followed the distribution from one end to another. By the time they reached the center of the plant they realized what was being made. At the end of the factory, ready to be rolled out, they saw it. ”

“ We've nothing to lose. If there's a village we're saved. If not—"
"If not?" Millet asked, smiling.
Johnson ignored him. He drew his meagre overcoat more tightly about him and went out into the whirling snow. The three took one final look at the wreckage of the plane and the bodies that were already covered by a white mantle. Johnson led the way and Weaver followed, his arm rapidly becoming numb. Millet, face down to avoid the bite of the wind, brought up the rear.
The sun was already overhead when they reached the mountain top and saw before them in the valley the strange city. ”

“ But the Eskimo is extinct."
"Have we got food?" Johnson asked.
"None," Millet said curtly, to dispel all false hopes.
"I am not sure," Weaver said slowly, "but five minutes before we crashed I—I'm sure I saw a thin line of smoke coming up from a valley. That valley there." he said, pointing toward a mountain range.
"Nonsense!" Millet muttered, looking at the inhospitable icy peaks.
"Nonsense?" Johnson shouted, "What do you mean nonsense? Who are you to say it's nonsense! Maybe there are explorers here, an expedition of seme sort. ”

“ Leaving her alone the three men rushed to one of the windows and looked out upon the open field. The day before it was empty. Now, upon its white level, were three large black bombing planes.
"They mustn't fly!" ”