Many Dimensions by Charles Williams (my miracle luna book free read .TXT) 📖

voice of the Home Secretary called up a vision of another

hemisphere of danger and distress; and over that danger and that

distress floated, ironically effective, the Stone. Of the two the Mayor

suffered the more, for he had the keener sight, and at the same time

the remembrance of his own son struck at his heart. He saw the silent

railways and the idle workers at the same time that he heard the moans

of the dying man and knew them for the moans of one among thousands. He

turned sharply on the Minister.

 

“Is there no way of administering relief,” he asked, “by the most

careful vigilance?”

 

“There is no way to protect the Stone if we’are to use the Stone,” Mr.

Gartef Browne said. “And now, gentlemen?”

 

“I cannot believe it,” the Mayor cried out. “Is the mind of man

incapable of dealing with this problem? Or is the Stone sent to mock

us?”

 

“Well… mock?” the Minister asked, “mock?… But I think probably

its value has been much exaggerated. We have, of course-”

 

“But I have seen these things happen,” the Mayor said.

 

“No doubt, no doubt. As I was saying,” the Minister went on, “we have,

of course, our own scientists at work on it. Analysing, you know.”

 

“Who are your scientists?” the Mayor asked.

 

“Sir Giles Tumulty primarily,” the other answered. He had never heard

of Sir Giles till the previous evening, but his

manner implied that the name ought to settle the Mayor, “And no doubt

he—they—will find some means to isolate the curative while—shall we

say inhibiting?—the non-curative elements. But you must give us time.”

 

“And am I to go back to Rich and tell the people to die?” the Mayor

asked.

 

“You talk as if your townsfolk were all the people,” Merridew muttered.

“Aren’t there any others to watch for the people than you? What of the

Unions? Are my members to starve that your townsfolk may be more

cheerful?”

 

“It seems,” the Mayor said heavily, “that this Stone is a very subtle

thing.”

 

Mr. Garterr Browne felt that his own mind was at least as good as the

Stone if it came to subtlety. It had been a difficult situation, and

now everything was coming right. He looked almost gratefully at Mr.

Merridew, but received no answering glance. The General Secretary was

beginning to feel anxious about the future.

 

“At least,” the Mayor said suddenly, “you will have the whole matter

laid before Parliament, so that we may know what resolution is come to,

and for what reason.”

 

“I very certainly will not,” Mr. Garterr Browne said, startled at this

new threat of tempest. “Why, Parliament isn’t even sitting. I shall let

the Cabinet know. Can’t you trust us to do our best?”

 

Neither of his visitors seemed anxious to do so. Both of them were

thinking of the crowds, of voices crying out questions, of the demand

of the common people for security and food and content. In the faint

noise of the traffic of London that came to them in the room there

seemed to be something which must either be laid hold of or itself lay

hold. Merridew saw before him the massed ranks of his Conference. There

was here a thing which allowed, it seemed, of no arrangement; here was

no question of percentages and scales and wage-modifications over long

periods—things that could be explained and defended. If it got out, if

the Stone were used publicly, the whole of his Unions would be raging

round him, and all the allied trades. Yet if the Stone were refused, he

seemed to see in the upright and dangerous figure of the Mayor a threat

of other action, of the outbreak of the sick and the friends of the

sick. He foresaw division and angry strife, and suddenly looking at the

Home Secretary he cried out in answer to the plaintive appeal-“But this

is civil war!”

 

The Mayor looked over at him. “I do not think you are wrong, Mr.

Secretary,” he said. “We are coming perhaps to evil days.”

 

“But really, gentlemen,” the Minister began, and then changing his

intention addressed himself to the Mayor. “Do you not see,” he said,

“that more will suffer if the Stone is used than if it is kept secret?

I am sure we all sympathize with those who are in need’of one sort or

another, but you cannot build up a house by pulling it down, nor do

good to some by doing harm to many. Besides, so little has really been

discovered about this… discovery that it’s too soon to take a gloomy

view. You, I am sure, Mr. Mayor, will explain this to the people of

Rich.”

 

“And if the people of Rich lynch me in the street I shall think it

natural,” the Mayor answered.

 

There was a knock at the door and a secretary entered. “Lord Birlesmere

is very anxious to-see you, sir,” he said. “He telephoned from the

Foreign Office Just now to know if he could come across.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Garterr Browne answered, and then, as the

secretary went out, turned to his visitors. “Well,” he said, “I must

break off the discussion. But please don’t let there be any

misunderstanding. The Government will take steps to find out what the

truth really is. As I said before, there is always likely to be

exaggeration. And then I will let you know its decision. Pray,

gentlemen, exercise all your restraining influence, and do not let

there be any talk of civil war. This is a civilized community. Your

interests—the interests of those you represent—townsfolk or unionists—

will be safe in our hands. I shall be writing to you both in a few

days. No, Mr. Mayor, I can’t discuss it further at present. Important

things are bound to take time.”

 

As the two were ushered out Mr. Garterr Browne shook his head

thoughtfully at the still ominous storm. “What is quite certain,”

he said, “is that no one must be allowed to believe in this Stone

any more. It simply must not be allowed.”