The Scientists Revolt. Edgar Rice Burroughs

explained the plan to the officer.

      “The most difficult part,” he concluded, “will be in obtaining safe escort for your wife and the two infants through the revolutionists who surround the building, but that is a chance we must take, for in their present mood they will spare no one once they gain access to the building, which now can be but a matter of hours.

      “Once you have gained the city, remain in hiding until your wife’s strength is equal to travel, then leave the country. Go to America, where funds will be sent you periodically for the care and education of the boy. From time to time you will receive instructions from us, but you will make no reports unless requested, nor attempt in any way to communicate with us, for only by maintaining the utmost secrecy may we hope to preserve the boy from the vengeance of the revolutionists. To prevent suspicion from attaching to you in any way upon the other side, you must pursue some calling that may at least partially account for your income.

      “His father, his mother, Danard, your wife, yourself, and I are the only people who will know the identity of your second twin. No other must ever know until you receive authoritative word from Assuria that the time is ripe for his return to his people. Not even the boy himself must know that he is other than your son. Do you understand fully, and do you accept the commission?”

      Donovan inclined his head in assent.

      “We are placing in your hands the fate of Assuria,” said the Science Ruler; “God grant that you may be true to the trust imposed upon you.”

      “I shall not fail you, sir,” replied the Irishman.

      * * * *

Twenty-four hours later, the rabble overcame the remaining guards and forced its way into the Science building. The fate of the Science Ruler and his wife is not known—their bodies were never found. The rage of the revolutionists when they discovered that the infant son had been spirited away was unbounded. But all this is history. If you are interested in it, I recommend to you The Last Days of the Scientists1, by Michael Sanders, large 12mo, illus., 529 pgs., G. Strake, Ltd., London.

      * * * *

      It was the sixteenth of May, two weeks after the fall of the Science Rule, that a tiny, muffled figure, with a weight at its feet, dropped from the stratosphere liner Colossic bound for New York. The Atlantic, below, received it. Watching, with tragic eyes, stood a young Irishman. At his side, sobbing softly, his wife clutched a little baby tightly to her breast.

1 Late in the twenty-first century, all of Europe became involved in a war from which emerged a scientific power that ruled the whole continent with an iron hand. It was not a dictatorial, or an unjust rule, since by scientific means, the lot of the people was materially bettered. Under the Science Rule, the country grew prosperous, and it seemed that happiness should certainly have been the lot of the people. But instead, there was constant murmuring against the rule of man by science, for it was a fact that machines did the real thinking behind the government. Robots took the place of pilots in stratosphere planes, industry became a mass of entangling robot factories, and severe economical upheavals resulted.

      However, each time, balance was restored, at least to the financial structure of the nation. But morally, the people became undermined. They had too much leisure time. In short, science had come to a continent whose people were not intellectually ready for it. They seethed beneath its irksome perfection. They yearned for something, but they knew not what. And, finally, came revolt. Machine was turned against machine, and as is the case with machines, when the human nerve center is cut, chaos resulted.

      Driven to retreat when power beams failed, the Foreign Corps finally succumbed to such ancient weapons as rifles and flame guns. A few short days of fierce fighting and the Science Rule was at an end, perhaps forever on the European continent.

      Once more Europe returned to its ancient ways, but whether they would follow the lead of still American America, the ancient, but still young in spirit, democracy, is for future historians to record. In America, science serves, it does not rule.—Excerpt from “The Last Days of the Scientists.”

      CHAPTER I

      Twenty-Two Years Later

      “‘Your Ma is a very sick woman, Mackie.”

      The older man, sitting at his desk, did not raise his eyes to his son as he spoke, and the other knew that it was because he feared to reveal the emotion that lay behind them and thus give the boy greater cause for apprehension.

      “I guessed as much when I got your message, Dad.” As he spoke, Macklin Donovan, arose. Walking to his father’s side he laid his hand affectionately and sympathetically upon the broad shoulder of the strato-police lieutenant. “May I see her?” he asked.

      “That is all, Mackie—just see her,” replied his father. “She won’t know you. The doctor has ordered absolute quiet.”

      The younger man nodded, and together they tiptoed their way upstairs to a room on the second floor.

      When they returned to the den again there was a hint of moisture on the lashes of both men.

      “How did you find me?” asked the younger man. “Through the department?”

      “Yes. I telephoned Washington. Your chief told me where you were.”

      “I am still on the Thorn case. It’s got us guessing. No one in the department believes Mr. Thorn to be more than a visionary philanthropist with conservative socialistic leanings.