Desperate Games

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ he said, leaning forward. ‘It’s an intelligent idea.’

He was nodding his head in an approving way, when suddenly his brow acquired a sombre expression.

‘Among us there are only scholars,’ he said. ‘Assuming that we grant this honour also to physiologists, there are still the literary Nobels. Is it your intention to seek the support of novelists and poets?’

The four ambassadors looked at each other in somewhat embarrassed silence.

Finally Fawell said, ‘I confess that we have not yet considered this question. What do you think, Betty?’

‘It is necessary to have the patronage of all the Nobels without exception,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘We have to make an appeal to the literary Nobels, which will reassure the aesthetes, and also to the Nobels for peace, who will provide us with an essential element: peace will be an asset of the first order for us, which we must emphasise.’

‘To have a man of letters join a scientific government seems impossible to me,’ murmured Fawell. ‘A man of letters writes in a way imposed on him by contemporary taste. He never makes any innovations in the spiritual realm. Our government, which focuses on the discovery of the unknown, must, by contrast, be indifferent to taste. Wells once expressed it very well: “Aesthetic life is conditioned by the times, science conditions the times.”’3

‘There’s no question about it!’ exclaimed O’Kearn, striking his table.

The visitors had attained their first goal. The scholar had been won over to their plan, to the point of considering it his own. His brain had been working actively over the past few minutes and started to put together a plan which could be carried out in practical terms.

‘No Nobel must be part of this government,’ he asserted in a peremptory tone. ‘Their support will only have more weight. What is more, most of them, like me, are too old to be men of action.’

‘But if they support us, they will demand that they should take part.’

‘It must not happen at any price. Can you really see that incompetent old fool Alex Keene running and leading the world? He would be more certain to lead it into the abyss than the present leaders.’

Sir Alex Keene was the general leader of the Nobels of biology. A specialist in bacteriology, he had made himself famous by his works on micro-organisms. He was O’Kearn’s great rival, with a little less notoriety than him.

‘And they will demand nothing at all, if we arrange some honorary functions for them which flatter their pride, while avoiding giving them the least responsibility. I think I may say that I know my colleagues and fellow Nobels.’

So O’Kearn developed the plan which he had just conceived and which was finally put into practice along his general lines: the Nobels would lend th

eir moral support to the project. Then they would be the ones to designate the members of the government, after a competition for which they would be the examiners.

‘And I give you my word that none of them will have any desire to take this exam,’ the scholar declared, his eyes gleaming with malice.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because almost all of them would fail. Just imagine Alex Keene trying to solve the problems of nuclear physics! He doesn’t even know what an atom is!… For it should be generally understood that this exam will be very difficult and will require very extensive scientific knowledge. Only men and women who are still young like you would have the courage and endurance to carry out the work of intense preparation… Ah, my children,’ O’Kearn continued in a more familiar tone, rubbing his hands together, ‘so you aspire to governing the world? You must show yourselves worthy of doing it. For my part, I can already visualise the type of problems which I’m going to compose for you.’

Satisfied at seeing their project taking shape, the four ambassadors took their leave of the scholar with his firm promise. He immediately went and wrote a confidential letter to all living Nobels, making it clear to them the importance of the decisions which were expected of them, and to set up a general meeting.

‘I can imagine them already,’ said O’Kearn, whose caustic humour was often applied at the expense of his colleagues. ‘They’ll turn up wriggling with curiosity and inflated with their own importance. The rest is up to me. Let me deal with it.’

As he walked them back, he whispered into Betty’s ear:

‘Mrs Han, you were right a hundred times over. It is necessary to have all the Nobels, especially the peace ones. Do you know why?’

‘To inspire confidence in those people who yearn for universal peace.’

‘Certainly, but also to maintain some agreement among my colleagues. Did you think about that?’

‘Sir,’ Betty replied, screwing up her eyes in a smile, ‘that was not my main argument, but this detail had also been considered from a psychological point of view.’

8.

‘Honoured Presidents…’

Thus began the letter which the Nobels addressed to every head of state on the Earth, after having decided to give their support to the project of a scientific world government during the conference they held at O’Kearn’s instigation.

This conference was a success. The great physicist made his colleagues swear themselves to secrecy, and then informed them about the project and explained to them what was expected of their celebrity, authority and ability, if they approved of it. It did not take much to develop arguments which were convincing enough to obtain their unanimous agreement. For a long time they had all deplored the blindness of present governments, which granted derisory funds to their work, whenever they were of no direct interest to national defence. All of them suffered deeply when they saw the Earth’s heritage being squandered on dangerous, frivolous or simply useless expenditure, while pure science had to go begging.