Chapter 5

Phyfe asked to be relieved of his duties as head of the expedition still in the field in order that he might devote his entire time to a study of Stroid records and manuscripts now in existence. Terry Bernard gave up field work to assist him in order to be near the site of restoration. With them was Dreyer, who attacked with feverish effort the translation of the language that had defied him so long.

Underwood was concerned with the resurrection itself. He sensed that the very secret of life was involved in the work he was doing. The instruction book left by the Stroid was in the nature of an operating manual, however, rather than a theoretical text, and now that the experiment was actually under way, Underwood abandoned everything in an attempt to study fully the processes that were taking place.

So occupied were they with their own studies that the scientists scarcely noticed the public reaction to the creature they were attempting to restore.

The first outward sign had been that wild cry of welcome the day the protoplasm was brought to Earth.

The next was the Sunday sermon preached by one of the multitude of obscure religious leaders in a poorly attended meeting in a luxurious church in that same city.

William B. Hennessey had been a publicity man in his early years before the full breakdown began to show, and he was conscious of good publicity values. But perhaps he half believed what he wrote and the mere preaching of it convinced him it was so. It is probable that there were other preachers who took the same theme that Sunday morning, but William B. Hennessey’s was the one that got the news publicity.

He said, “How many of this congregation this morning are among those who have given up in the race of life, who have despaired of values and standards to cling to, who have forsaken the leadership of all who would lead you? Perhaps you are among the millions of those who have given up all hope of solving the great problems of life. If you are, I want to ask if you were among those who witnessed the miraculous arrival of the Gift out of the Ages. Were you among those who saw the Great One?”

William B. Hennessey paused. “For centuries we have looked for leadership in our own midst and not found it. They were, after all, merely human. But now, into the hands of our noble scientists, has been imparted the great task of awakening the sleeping Great One, and when they have completed their work, the Golden Age of Earth will be upon us.

“I call upon you to throw off the shackles of despair. Come out of the prison of your disillusionment. Make ready to greet the Great One on the day of his rising. Let your hearts and minds be ready to receive the message that he shall give, and to obey the words of counsel you shall surely be given, for truly from a greater world and a brighter land than ours has come the Great One to preserve us!”

Within an hour Hennessey’s words were flashed around the world.

Terry was the only one of the scientists on the project who heard about it. He went over to the museum in the afternoon and found Underwood and Dreyer at the test board.

“Some crackpot preacher this morning gave out a sermon on Oscar here.” He jerked a thumb toward the bath. “He says we’ve got the solution to all the world’s ills. He’s calling on the people to worship Oscar.”

“You might know some fool thing like that would happen.”

Dreyer emitted a single, explosive puff of cigar smoke. “A religious cult based upon this alien intelligence. We should have predicted that development. I wonder why our computations failed to indicate it.”

“I think it’s dangerous,” said Terry. “It could turn into serious business.”

“What do you mean? I don’t get it,” said Underwood.

“Don’t you see the implications? The whole trouble with our culture is disillusionment, lack of leadership. If this thing turns out to be sentient, intelligent--even superior--why, it could become anything the people wanted to make it, president, dictator, god, or what not.”

“Oh, take it easy,” Underwood said. “This is just one little tin-horn preacher who probably didn’t have more than a hundred in his congregation. The news broadcasts must have treated it as a humorous commentary on our experiments. Just the same, we should never have allowed the news to be broadcast. It all started with that hysterical mob the day we brought the protoplasm here.”

Dreyer shook his head amid the smoke aura. “No. It began long ago when the first cave man plastered up his clay gods and found them cracked in the Sun and washed away with the rains. It began when the first cave chieftain was slain by a rival leader and his disillusioned followers looked about for a new head man. It has been going on ever since.”

“It’s no concern of ours,” said Underwood.

Dreyer went on slowly, “As one by one the gods and chieftains fell, men cast about for new leaders who would bear the burdens of mankind and show the way to that illusive paradise that all men sought. Through the ages there have always been those who would let themselves be lifted up and called great, who would undertake to lead. Some had their eyes on faraway starry places that man could never reach and their disciples fell away, heartbroken and discouraged. Others sought their goal by mastery over foreign men and nations and bathed their followers in blood and disaster. But always their star fell and men never found the elusive goal which they could not name nor define.”

“And so the Age of Disillusion,” said Underwood bitterly.

“But disillusion is a healthy thing. It leads to reality.”

“How can you call this healthy?” Underwood demanded. “Men believe in nothing. They have lost faith in life itself.”

“Faith in life? I wonder what that means,” said Dreyer, musingly. “Watch your extensions, Dr. Underwood.”

Underwood flushed, recalling Illia’s remark that Dreyer would tear off every other word and throw it back at him. “All right, then. There are no governments, no leaders, no religions to lean upon in times of need, because men have no confidence in such sources.”

“All of which is a sign that they are approaching a stage in which they will no longer need such support. And, like a baby in his first steps, they stumble and fall. They get bruised and cry, as I detect that many of our scientists have done, else they would not have run away to Venus and other places.”

Underwood blinked from the sting of Dreyer’s rebuke. “That’s the second time I’ve been accused of running away,” he said.

“No offense,” Dreyer said. “I am merely stating facts. That you do not believe them is not to your condemnation, only a commentary on the state of your knowledge. But our discussion is on the restoration of the alien, and your knowledge may have far-reaching effects in the disposition of this project.”

“Policy is controlled by the directors, who will be guided by your recommendations--”

Dreyer shook his head. “No, I think not, unless it pleases them. Should I ever recommend destruction of the alien, I would have to work through you. And that would take much convincing, would it not?”