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diff --git a/30475-0.txt b/30475-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92c5a48 --- /dev/null +++ b/30475-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,386 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30475 *** + +[Illustration: Illustrated by KNOTH] + + +With a Vengeance + +By J. B. WOODLEY + + + _Keep this in mind in teaching + apprentices: They are future + journeymen--and even masters!_ + + + October 10, 2119 + New San Francisco + +Today, at precisely 9:50 a.m., Kyle became First Imperator of Terra. His +coup was so fantastically direct and facile that I am almost tempted to +believe that old cliche "the time was right." + +Well, however badly it can be expressed, I suppose the world _was_ ripe +for this sort of thing. I can remember when much the same used to +happen in elections. One man would win over another by a tremendous +majority, and historians would then set about to show how "the time was +right." + +Why do I persist in tormenting myself with that phrase! Analytically, I +might say I resent this new aristocracy of politics. Specifically, I +might say I resent Kyle. + +And both are true, both are true. + +This swing, though, to absolute monarchy, complete with the installation +of the Kyle Dynasty--damn him! This is something which psychologists, +not historians, must explain. Has the age of the Common Man, so bravely +flaunted for over one hundred years, truly come to nothing? Would people +really prefer a figurehead and a symbol of undisputed authority? + +In this instance, one may again conclude that "the time was right." +Contact with planets like Mars and Venus undoubtedly had its influence. +I must confess that the televised audiences with the Mrit of Venus and +the Znam of Mars _did_ make Terra's President--I should say, late +President--look a bit seedy. I daresay there is such a thing as a too +common Common Man. + +Kyle was such, twenty years ago. His name wasn't Kyle then, although it +was something very like that. I must see if any of the old ledgers are +about! I'd like to see what the Imperator's name was when His Most +Imperial Majesty was an apprenticed nobody! + + * * * * * + + October 12, 2119 + New San Francisco + +I found it! Buried in stacks of dust behind the old printing press that +was once the heart of my _Beacon-Sentinel_. There were others there too. +Spent a delightful morning with them, reading back through those old +account books. + +I wonder whatever happened to Hastings? And Drew? Best linotype men I +ever had. They became pilots, or something, as I recall. Too bad, too +bad. They could have had such brilliant futures, both of them. Why they +felt they must ally themselves with the non-thinking, muscle-flexing +variety of mankind--of which our Ruler is an excellent example--I'll +never know. + +Ah, yes, Kyle! In those days he was Kilmer Jones. I don't remember him +too well, actually, except for the day I fired him. + +I suppose he was right in changing his name. We couldn't very well have +an Imperator named Kilmer the First, or Jones the First. Much too +common, not at all in keeping. + +Gawky fellow--that Kilmer. When Bard brought me a sample of his work--I +guess I'll have to call it that--we both had a good laugh over it! +Atrocious spelling! Couldn't follow the proofreader's marks. Indeed, I +wonder if the fellow could even read! The punctuation! And the grammar! + +I called the boy to the office that morning--or was it the next day? No +matter. I called him in and told him, as kindly as possible, that I +thought there were other vocations to which he might be better suited. +The irony of it! Kilmer Jones--Kyle I! + +And he stood there, I remember, with those seventeen-year-old hands that +were all knuckles and bone and chapped skin, twisting those hands and +shifting his weight from one foot to the other. + +"Please, Mr. Booth," he said, his voice cracking. "I ain't got no other +job in mind. I wanna be a noospaper man. I ain't got no--" + +If not for that "ain't got no," I think I might have relented. But no +one is going to ruin the English language as he did! Not in my offices! + +I took him to task severely for his offensive usage, outlined a correct +example of what he had attempted to say, gave him a brief lesson in the +history of the tongue, and explained why it had been chosen as the +official Terran speech. I think my conclusion was, "You'll be much +better off in a position which requires you to quote neither Milton nor +Shakespeare nor any author save possibly those who write the comic +strips." + +"Got no training," he said softly. (I supposed it was to keep his voice +from exhibiting its usual adolescent gymnastics.) + +I shuddered slightly, I remember. "You mean, 'I _have_ no training.'" + +"Yeah ..." softly again. "Yeah, Mr. Booth." + +"_Yes!_" I cried impatiently. "Not 'yeah,' but _yes_!" + +I searched for his severance pay on my desk, wondering who the devil had +hired him in the first place. Gave him three weeks pay, as I recall it, +one more than necessary. + +Unmannerly pup! He just stood there for a minute and then finally left +without even a "Thank you," or "Good-by." + +And this is the man who is Kyle the First, Ruler of Terra at the age of +thirty-seven! I wonder what he is like now.... + + * * * * * + + January 1, 1 + New San Francisco + +There is no longer any need to wonder. Surprisingly few heads have +rolled, but apparently Jonesy chooses to exhibit his power in other +ways. + +Thanksgiving Day, a custom preserved in certain portions of the +Directorate of North America, is three weeks away--even though it is +January. + +The Year One. There used to be some childish joke about the Year One. +Don't remember it just now. + +Thanksgiving harvest in January. Christmas celebration in February. +Spring planting in July! To say nothing of the inconvenience this has +caused in my bookkeeping department! I suppose the man will now try to +change the weather to suit his new calendar! + + * * * * * + + January 8, 1 + New San Francisco + +He can't last! He can't! A dictator is one thing. A monarch is another. +But Kyle is something else! + +Naturally he had to remove certain persons from his way. And his summer +palace in the plains region of America--that's all right, that's all +right! An authority of Kyle's stature is expected to remove +undesirables, and to have a summer palace, and a winter palace, and +anything else he wants! Of course! + +But why this? Why _this_ of all things! + +No newspapers! Just like that! _He_ waves an edict, and just like that, +_no newspapers_! The _Beacon-Sentinel_ has been a great paper for the +last twenty-five years! It was nothing, and I was nothing, and together +we became a Voice! And now again, we are nothing! + +Oh, I see what's behind it! It's revenge, that's what it is! Because he +once couldn't become a "noospaper" man, he's taking his vengeance this +way. + +A man as petty as that shall be overthrown! Mark my words! And the +clumsiness of it! + +I see what he is! I know him! He's still that pup of seventeen, playing +king with the world, twisting his hands in glee over his childish +triumph. + +No subtlety! Just a direct pushing over an applecart he couldn't steer! +Doesn't matter whose apples you destroy, does it, Jonesy? Just push it +over--push it over! + + * * * * * + + January 16, 1 + New San Francisco + +Closed the _Beacon-Sentinel_ yesterday. My savings are enough to take +care of me for a few years. After that--ah, well, I am no longer a young +man. I am glad that Elsa is not here to see this. + + * * * * * + + February 12, 1 + New San Francisco + +Received a letter this morning, requesting me to appear at the chambers +of His Most Imperial Majesty, Kyle the First, on Tuesday of next week. +His Most Imperial Majesty can see me between 10:15 and 10:25 on that +morning. + +Ten minutes--rather a brief spell in which to roll another head. + +I find myself amazed, though. Is this man so truly powerful that he +needs no police to make his arrests for him? Can he really send messages +via jetmail and be certain his enemies will not try to escape? + +I don't want to attempt flight. Life without my work is no longer life. + + * * * * * + + February 17, 1 + Kyleton Palace, North America + +I don't understand. I've gone over it twice, and I don't understand. If +only Elsa were still with me! I could talk to her. She would help me +decipher what it's all about. + +This morning, at 10:15 sharp, I was taken to the public audience chamber +in the palace. + +His Majesty was seated behind a desk facing the doors. Behind him, on +the wall, was His Coat of Arms. + +He stood up and walked toward me, waving away the guards. "How are you, +Mr. Booth?" he said. And offered me His Hand! + +I recovered my presence of mind, of course, and replied as was fitting. + +And then He said it! "I shall be at liberty later this week to discuss +more fully the details of these past years." (Shades of "ain't got no!") +"Meanwhile, my secretary will give you a complete dossier on my planned +Official Bulletin." He lighted a cigarette after offering me one. "I +should deem it an honor," he continued, "to have a man of your literary +versatility and--I must add--your vast practical experience become Chief +Editor of that Bulletin. The publication, which I should enjoy +christening _The Terran Beacon-Sentinel_--with your permission, +sir--shall be more than my official organ. It shall set the standards +for the coming newspaper world." + +He cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled. "I believe we are in perfect +accord about certain standards, are we not, Mr. Booth? The deplorable +grammatical practices of some newspapers! Well, really, Mr. Booth! I +feel assured of your agreement!" + +He led me around the desk and pointed to the Coat of Arms. As He stood +silent, I felt obliged to look more closely. I had seen it before, of +course, but seeing it now, greatly enlarged, I was able to make out its +detail. + +What I had thought was a mere decorative border, I now realized was a +motif I have seen all my life! A tiny lighthouse sending forth a beam! +The trademark of my paper! + +As I stood there, gaping, His Majesty laughed softly and said, "That, +Mr. Booth, I felt impelled to include. For, without your most fortuitous +termination of my apprenticeship in your organization, I should not have +risen to my present position." + + * * * * * + +Again He took my hand and shook it, warmly. His hair is just a bit gray +at the temples, and there are signs of strain on His finely featured +face. Those awkward hands are now strong and purposeful. + +He apologized that He must return to His duties, and went with me to the +door. "My secretary will fill in further details about your new +position. Newspapers shall once again be published. No--don't say a +word, Mr. Booth! I know what you are thinking. + +"Your salary," he continued as we stood at the open door, "shall, of +course, be commensurate to your high authority in this new field. Allow +me, now, to thank you most deeply and sincerely for your unwitting aid +in my youth. I assure you, Mr. Booth, I have often thought of that day +we talked. And I hope to repay you, in some measure, for what you did." + +He said more, mostly polite phrases of good-by. And then I was outside +after being handed a folder by some man. + +An official jetmobile took me to my residence--which turned out to be in +the East Wing. Here I am, and I don't understand. I came prepared to +suffer heaven only knows what as part of Kilmer Jones's childish pattern +for revenge. + +Instead, here I am, head of the Official Bulletin, titular ruler and +ruler-in-fact of the future journalism of the world! + +There is something behind this--I keep feeling there is. But what? What? +Or is he truly generous, to a degree never before known among absolute +monarchs? + + * * * * * + + February 13, 1 + Kyleton Palace, North America + +I am a suspicious and most humble old man. I see now that Kyle's +generosity amazed me only because I myself would have been incapable of +such an action. + +Just now, I fear for His Majesty. I was right, before, when I said there +was no subtlety in the man. He is too open, too fair, too forgiving. A +ruler with such greatness of heart might easily allow some small +insignificant person in too far, too close. I fear for him! + + * * * * * + + February 14, 1 + Kyleton Palace, North America + +Tomorrow we begin publication! The pressroom is magnificent! I can +hardly wait. It's been a long time since I've felt such exuberance. + +This afternoon I am to conduct a conference of some eight hundred +editors! His Majesty's secretary has sent me an outline on Journalistic +Standards, which I shall study after lunch. + +There was a note attached, in His Majesty's handwriting--such beautiful +penmanship, too. "A mere formality," it said, "for, of course, you and I +know full well what the future of journalism shall be, Mr. Booth." + + * * * * * + + Later-- + +How wrong can one man be in one lifetime? + +I wonder now _why_ he changed the calendar. I wonder now what poor devil +he destroyed then. But _I'll_ cheat him! + +I'll cheat him yet! + + * * * * * + + Obituary, _Trran Bacon-Sntinl_, + Fbruary 16, 1 + +Th unfortunat and untimly dmis of Gorg W. Booth is hrby notd with sorrow +by thos who knw and lovd him. + +Mr. Booth, formr ditor and publishr of th _Bacon-Sntinl_ of Nw San +Francisco, Dirctorat of North Amrica, had apparntly bn in poor helth for +som tim. It is blivd that worry ovr th succss of his nw policy-stting +_Trran Bacon-Sntinl_ was a contributing factor in his suicid lat in th +aftrnoon of Fbruary 14. + +His Most Imprial Majsty Kyl th First has ordrd a fitting monumnt to his +lat lamntd frind. A simpl shaft of granit shall b rctd in th gardn +facing th Ast Wing of Kylton Palac, whr Mr. Booth mad his residnc. On th +shaft shall b inscribd th lgnd: + + "How bautous mankind is! Oh brav nw world, + That has much peepl in't!" + +Th quotation is from _Th Tmpst_. Mr. Booth was a grat admirr of +Shakspar. + +An vn mor fitting and long-livd mmorial is xprssd in th dict rlasd +through th offics of His Majsty on th vry day of Mr. Booth's dath. It +reeds in part: + + "Th nw linguistic policy on Trra, as dmonstratd in th _Trran + Bacon-Sntinl_, shall hncforth b known as Boothtalk." + +Mr. Booth bfrindd Our Imprial Rulr in His youngr days, and, as w all +know, His Majsty nvr forgts a frind. + + --J. B. WOODLEY + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ October 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. Calendar + dates remain as printed, and, based on the narrative, may be + intentional. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of With a Vengeance, by J. B. Woodley + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30475 *** |