The Man Who Fell to Earth

“We might be able to save you from destroying yourselves, if we are quick enough about it.” Then, when Bryce started to speak, he said, “Let me talk for a while. I don’t think you know what a pleasure it gives me to talk about it — to talk at length.” He had not picked his glass up again, after getting in bed. He folded his hands over his stomach, and, looking gently at Bryce, went on. “We’ve had our own wars, you see. A great many more than you have had, and we have only barely survived them. That’s where most of our radioactive materials went, into bombs. We used to be a very powerful people, very powerful; but that has been over for a long time. Now we barely survive.” He looked down at his hands, as if in speculation. “It’s a strange thing that most of your imaginative literature about life on the other planets always assumes that each planet would have only one intelligent race, one type of society, one language, one government. On Anthea — our name is Anthea, although, of course, that is not the name in your astronomy books — we had, at one time, three intelligent species and seven major governments. Now there is only one species left of any consequence, and that is my own. We are the survivors, after five wars fought with radioactive weapons. And there are not very many of us. But we know a great deal about warfare. And we have a great deal of technical knowledge.” Newton’s eyes were still fixed on his hands; his voice had assumed a monotone, as if he were reciting a prepared speech. “I have been here for five years, and I own property worth more than three hundred million dollars. In five more years it will be double that. And that is only a beginning. If the plan is carried out there will eventually be the equivalent of World Enterprises in every major country of this world. Then we will go into politics. And the military. We know about weapons and defenses. Yours are still crude. We can, for instance, render radar impotent — a thing quite necessary when I landed my craft here and more necessary when the ferry boat returns. We can also generate an energy system that will prevent the detonation of any of your nuclear weapons within a five-mile radius.”

“Is that enough?”

“I don’t know. But my superiors aren’t stupid, and they seem to think it can be done. As long as we keep our devices and our knowledge under our own control, building up the economy of one small country here, buying a critical food surplus there, starting an industry somewhere else, giving one nation a weapon, and another a defense against it….”

“But, damn it, you’re not gods.”

“No. But have your gods ever saved you before?”

“I don’t know. No, of course not.” Bryce lit a cigarette. It took three tries; his hands refused to hold steady. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. He felt somehow like a college sophomore, arguing human destiny. But this was not exactly abstract philosophizing. “Doesn’t mankind have a right to choose its own form of destruction?” he said.

Newton waited a moment before he spoke. “Do you really believe that mankind does have such a right?”

Bryce ground his cigarette, only partly smoked, into the ashtray beside him. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Isn’t there such a thing as human destiny? The right to fulfill ourselves, to live out our own lives and take our own consequences?” Saying this it suddenly struck him that Newton was the only link with — what was it? — Anthea. If Newton were destroyed there could be no carrying out of that plan; it would all be over. And Newton was frail, very frail. The thought held him fascinated for a minute; he, Bryce, was potentially the hero of all heroes — the man who could, with a heavy blow from his fist, probably save the world. This could have been very amusing; but it was not.

“There may be such a thing as human destiny,” Newton said, “but I rather imagine it resembles passenger-pigeon destiny. Or the destiny of those large creatures with small brains — I think they were called dinosaurs.”

That seemed a little supercilious. “We won’t necessarily become extinct. Disarmament is being negotiated. Not all of us are insane.”

“But most of you are. Enough of you are — it only requires a few insane ones, in the right places. Suppose your man Hitler had been in possession of fusion bombs and intercontinental missiles? Wouldn’t he have used them, regardless of the consequences? He had nothing to lose toward the end.”

“How do I know that your Antheans won’t be Hitlers?”

Newton looked away. “It’s possible, but unlikely.”

“Do you come from a democratic society?”

“We have nothing resembling a democratic society on Anthea. Nor do we have democratic social institutions. But we have no intention of ruling you, even if we could.”

“Then what do you call it,” Bryce said, “if you plan to have a bunch of Antheans manipulating men and governments all over the Earth?”