The Reunion, as Miss Jennson had called it, took place after dinner. Allmembers of the Unit assembled in the large Lecture Room.
The audience did not include what might be called the technical staff:
the laboratory assistants, the Corps2 de Ballet, the various service person-nel, and the small assembly of handsome prostitutes who also served theUnit as purveyors of sex to those men who had no wives with them andhad formed no particular attachments3 with the female workers.
Sitting next to Betterton, Hilary awaited with keen curiosity the arrivalon the platform of that almost mythical4 figure, the Director. Questioned byher, Tom Betterton had given unsatisfactory, almost vague answers aboutthe personality of the man who controlled the Unit.
“He’s nothing much to look at,” he said. “But he has tremendous impact.
Actually I’ve only seen him twice. He doesn’t show up often. He’s remark-able, of course, one feels that but honestly I don’t know why.”
From the reverent5 way Miss Jennson and some of the other womenspoke about him, Hilary had formed a vague mental figure of a tall manwith a golden beard wearing a white robe—a kind of godlike abstraction.
She was almost startled when, as the audience rose to their feet, a dark,rather heavily built man of middle age came quietly on to the platform. Inappearance he was quite undistinguished, he might have been a businessman from the Midlands. His nationality was not apparent. He spoke6 tothem in three languages, alternating one with the other, and never exactlyrepeating himself. He used French, German and English, and each wasspoken with equal fluency7.
“Let me first,” he began, “welcome our new colleagues who have cometo join us here.”
He then paid a few words of tribute to each of the new arrivals.
After that he went on to speak of the aims and beliefs of the Unit.
Trying to remember his words later, Hilary found herself unable to doso with any accuracy. Or perhaps it was that the words, as remembered,seemed trite8 and ordinary. But listening to them was a very differentthing.
Hilary remembered once being told by a friend who had lived in Ger-many in the days before the war how she had gone to a meeting in merecuriosity to listen “to that absurd Hitler”—and how she had found herselfcrying hysterically9, swept away by intense emotion. She had describedhow wise and inspiring every word had seemed, and how, afterwards, theremembered words in their actuality had seemed commonplace enough.
Something of the same kind was happening now. In spite of herself, Hil-ary was stirred and uplifted. The Director spoke very simply. He spokeprimarily of Youth. With Youth lay the future of mankind.
“Accumulated Wealth, Prestige, influential10 Families—those have beenthe forces of the past. But today, power lies in the hands of the young.
Power is in Brains. The brains of the chemist, the physicist11, the doctor .?.?.
From the laboratories comes the power to destroy on a vast scale. Withthat power you can say ‘Yield—or perish!’ That power should not be givento this or that nation. Power should be in the hands of those who create it.
This Unit is a gathering12 place for the Power of all the world. You comehere from all parts of the globe, bringing with you your creative scientificknowledge. And with you, you bring Youth! No one here is over forty-five.
When the day comes, we shall create a Trust. The Brains Trust of Science.
And we shall administer world affairs. We shall issue our orders to Capit-alists and Kings and Armies and Industries. We shall give the World thePax Scientifica.”
There was more of it—all the same heady intoxicating13 stuff—but it wasnot the words themselves—it was the power of the orator1 that carriedaway an assembly that could have been cold and critical had it not beenswayed by that nameless emotion about which so little was known.
When the Director had ended abruptly14:
“Courage and Victory! Good Night!” Hilary left the Hall, half-stumblingin a kind of exalted15 dream, and recognized the same feeling in the facesaround her. She saw Ericsson in particular, his pale eyes gleaming, hishead tossed back in exultation16.
Then she felt Andy Peters’s hand on her arm and his voice said in herear:
“Come up on the roof. We need some air.”
They went up in the lift without speaking and stepped out among thepalm trees under the stars. Peters drew a deep breath.
“Yes,” he said. “This is what we need. Air to blow away the clouds ofglory.”
Hilary gave a deep sigh. She still felt unreal.
He gave her arm a friendly shake.
“Snap out of it, Olive.”
“Clouds of glory,” said Hilary. “You know—it was like that!”
“Snap out of it, I tell you. Be a woman! Down to earth and basic realities!
When the effects of the Glory Gas poisoning pass off you’ll realize thatyou’ve been listening to the same old Mixture as Before.”
“But it was fine—I mean a fine ideal.”
“Nuts to ideals. Take the facts. Youth and Brains—glory glory Alleluia!
And what are the youth and brains? Helga Needheim, a ruthless egoist.
Torquil Ericsson, an impractical17 dreamer. Dr. Barron, who’d sell hisgrandmother to the knacker’s yard to get equipment for his work. Takeme, an ordinary guy, as you’ve said yourself, good with the test tube andthe microscope but with no talent whatever for efficient administration ofan office, let alone a world! Take your own husband—yes, I’m going to sayit—a man whose nerves are frayed18 to nothing and who can think of noth-ing but the fear that retribution will catch up with him. I’ve given youthose people we know best—but they’re all the same here—or all that I’vecome across. Geniuses, some of them, damned good at their chosen jobs—but as Administrators19 of the Universe—hell, don’t make me laugh! Perni-cious nonsense, that’s what we’ve been listening to.”
Hilary sat down on the concrete parapet. She passed a hand across herforehead.
“You know,” she said. “I believe you’re right .?.?. But the clouds of gloryare still trailing. How does he do it? Does he believe it himself? He must.”
Peters said gloomily:
“I suppose it always comes to the same thing in the end. A madman whobelieves he’s God.”
Hilary said slowly:
“I suppose so. And yet—that seems curiously20 unsatisfactory.”
“But it happens, my dear. Again and again throughout history it hap-pens. And it gets one. It nearly got me, tonight. It did get you. If I hadn’twhisked you up here —” His manner changed suddenly. “I suppose Ishouldn’t have done that. What will Betterton say? He’ll think it odd.”
“I don’t think so. I doubt if he’ll notice.”
He looked at her questioningly.
“I’m sorry, Olive. It must be all pretty fair hell for you. Seeing him godown the hill.”
Hilary said passionately21:
“We must get out of here. We must. We must.”
“We shall.”
“You said that before—but we’ve made no progress.”
“Oh yes we have. I’ve not been idle.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“No precise plan, but I’ve initiated22 subversive23 activities. There’s a lot ofdissatisfaction here, far more than our Godlike Herr Director knows.
Amongst the humbler members of the Unit, I mean. Food and money andluxury and women aren’t everything, you know. I’ll get you out of hereyet, Olive.”
“And Tom too?”
Peters’s face darkened.
“Listen, Olive, and believe what I say. Tom will do best to stay on here.
He’s”—he hesitated—“safer here than he would be in the outside world.”
“Safer? What a curious word.”
“Safer,” said Peters. “I use the word deliberately24.”
Hilary frowned.
“I don’t really see what you mean. Tom’s not—you don’t think he’s be-coming mentally unhinged?”
“Not in the least. He’s het up, but I’d say Tom Betterton’s as sane25 as youor I.”
“Then why are you saying he’d be safer here?”
Peters said slowly:
“A cage, you know, is a very safe place to be.”
“Oh no,” cried Hilary. “Don’t tell me you’re going to believe that too.
Don’t tell me that mass- hypnotism, or suggestion, or whatever it is, isworking on you. Safe, tame, content! We must rebel still! We must want tobe free!”
Peters said slowly:
“Yes, I know. But—”
“Tom, at any rate, wants desperately26 to get away from here.”
“Tom mayn’t know what’s good for him.”
Suddenly Hilary remembered what Tom had hinted at to her. If he haddisposed of secret information he would be liable, she supposed, to prosec-ution under the Official Secrets Act—that, no doubt, was what Peters washinting at in his rather embarrassed way—but Hilary was clear in herown mind. Better to serve a prison sentence than remain on here. Shesaid, obstinately27:
“Tom must come too.”
She was startled when Peters said suddenly, in a bitter tone:
“Have it your own way. I’ve warned you. I wish I knew what the hellmakes you care for that fellow so much.”
She stared at him in dismay. Words sprang to her lips, but she checkedthem. She realized that what she wanted to say was, “I don’t care for him.
He’s nothing to me. He was another woman’s husband and I’ve a respons-ibility to her.” She wanted to say, “You fool, if there’s anybody I careabout, it’s you. .?.?.”
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收听单词发音
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1
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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attachments
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| n.（用电子邮件发送的）附件( attachment的名词复数 )；附着；连接；附属物 | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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fluency
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| n.流畅，雄辩，善辩 | |
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trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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physicist
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| n.物理学家，研究物理学的人 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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impractical
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| adj.不现实的，不实用的，不切实际的 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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administrators
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| n.管理者( administrator的名词复数 )；有管理（或行政）才能的人；（由遗嘱检验法庭指定的）遗产管理人；奉派暂管主教教区的牧师 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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subversive
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| adj.颠覆性的，破坏性的；n.破坏份子，危险份子 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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