CHAPTER XXI
JASON
Next morning the headlines of the newspapers blazed out the news of themeeting at the Queen's Hall, and the world read the words of Sarakoff.
Strange to say, most of the papers seemed inclined to view the situationseriously.
"If," said one in a leading article, "it really means that immortalityis coming to humanity--and there is, at least, much evidence fromBirmingham that supports the view that the germ cures all sickness--thenwe are indeed face to face with a strange problem. For how willimmortality affect us as a community? As a community, we live togetheron the tacit assumption that the old will die and the young will taketheir place. All our laws and customs are based on this idea. We canscarcely think of any institution that is not established upon thecertainty of death. What, then, if death ceases? Our food supply----"
I was interrupted, while reading, by my servant who announced that agentleman wished to see me on urgent business. I laid aside the paperand waited for him to enter.
My early visitor was a tall, heavily-built man, with strong eyes. He wascarefully dressed. He looked at me attentively, nodded, and sat down.
"My name is Jason--Edward Jason. You have no doubt heard of me."
"Certainly," I said. "You are the proprietor of this paper that I havejust been reading."
He nodded.
"And of sixty other daily papers, Dr. Harden," he said in a soft voice."I control much of the opinion in the country, and I intend to controlit all before I die."
"A curious intention. But why should you die? You will get the germ intime. I calculate that in a month at the outside the whole of London andthe best part of the country will be infected."
While I spoke he stared hard at me. He nodded again, glanced at hisboots, pinched his lips, and then stared again.
"A year ago I made a tour of all the big men in your profession, bothhere, in America, and on the continent, Dr. Harden. I had a verydefinite reason for doing this. The reason was that--well, it does notmatter now. I wanted a diagnosis and a forecast of the future. Iconsulted forty medical men--all with big names. Twenty-one gave mepractically identical opinions. The remaining nineteen were indisagreement. Of that nineteen six gave me a long life."
"What did the twenty-one give you?"
"Five years at the outside."
I looked at him critically.
"Yes, I should have given the same--a year ago."
He coloured a little, and his gaze fell; he shifted himself in hischair. Then he looked up suddenly, with a strong glow in his eyes.
"And now?"
"Now I give you--immortality." I spoke quite calmly, with no intentionof any dramatic effect.
The colour faded from his cheeks, and the glow in his eyes increased.
"If I get the Blue Disease, do you swear that it will cure me?"
"Of course it will cure you."
He got to his feet. He seemed to be in the grip of some powerfulemotion, and I could see that he was determined to control himself. Hewalked down the room and stood for some time near the window.
"A gipsy once told me I would die when I was fifty-two. Will you believeme when I say that that prophecy has weighed upon me more than anymedical opinion?" He turned and came up the room and stood before me."Did you ever read German psychology and philosophy?"
"To a certain extent--in translations."
"Well, Dr. Harden, I stepped out of the pages of some of those books, Ithink. You've heard of the theory of the Will to Power? The men whobased human life on that instinct were right!" He clenched his hands andclosed his eyes. "This last year has been hell to me. I've been hauntedevery hour by the thought of death--just so much longer--so manythousand days--and then Nothing!" He opened his eyes and sat downbefore me. "Are you ambitious, Dr. Harden?"
"I was--very ambitious."
"Do you know what it is to have a dream of power, luring you on day andnight? Do you know what is to see the dream becoming reality, bit bybit--and then to be given a time limit, when the dream is only halfworked out?"
"I have had my dream," I said. "It is now realized."
"The germ?"
I nodded. He leaned forward.
"Then you are satisfied?"
"I have no desires now."
He did not appear to understand.
"I don't believe yet in your theory of immortality," he said slowly."But I do believe that the germ cures sickness. I have had privatereports from Birmingham, and to-morrow I'm going to publish them asevidence. You see, Harden, I've decided to back you. To-morrow I'm goingto make Gods of you and your Russian associate. I'm going to call youthe greatest benefactors the race has known. I'm going to lift you up tothe skies."
He looked at me earnestly.
"Doesn't that stir you?" he asked.
"No, I told you that I have no desires."
He laughed.
"You're dazed. You must have worked incredibly hard. Wait till you seeyour name surrounded by the phrases I will devise you. I can make menout of nothing." His eyes shone into mine. "I once heard a man say thatthe trail of the serpent lay across my papers. That man is in an asylumnow. I can break men, too, you see. Now I want to ask you something."
I watched him with ease, totally uninfluenced by his magnetism--calm andaloof as a man watching a mechanical doll.
"Can you limit the germ?" he asked softly.
I shook my head.
"Can you take any steps to stop it or keep it--within control?"
I shook my head again. He stared for a minute at me.
"I believe you," he said at last. "It's a pity. Think what we could havedone--just a few of us!" He sat for some time drumming his fingers onhis knees and frowning slightly. Then he stood up.
"Never mind," he exclaimed. "I'm convinced it will cure me. That is themain thing. I'll have plenty of time to realize my dream now, Harden,thanks to you. You don't know what that means--ah, you don't know!"
"By the way," I said, "I see you are suggesting that food may become aproblem in the future. I think we'll be all right."
"Why?"
"Well, you see, if there's no desire, there's no appetite."
"I don't understand," he said. "It seems clear that if disease ismastered by the germ, then the death-rate will drop, and there will bemore mouths to fill. If everyone lives for their threescore and ten, thefood question will be serious."
"Oh, they'll live longer than that. They'll live for ever, Mr. Jason."
He laughed tolerantly.
"In any case there will be a food problem," he said in a quiet friendlyvoice. "There will be more births, and more children--for none willdie--and more old people."
"There won't be more births," I said.
He swung round on his heel.
"Why not?" he asked sharply.
"Because there will be no desire, Mr. Jason. You can't have birthswithout desires, don't you see?"
At that moment Sarakoff entered the room. I introduced him to the greatnewspaper proprietor. Jason made some complimentary remarks, whichSarakoff received with cool gravity.
I could see that Jason was very puzzled. He had seated himself again,and was watching the Russian closely.
"The effects of last night have vanished," said Sarakoff to me. "My headis clear again and I have no intention of ever repeating theexperiment."
"You got back, to some extent."
"Yes, partly. It was tremendously painful. I felt like a man in anightmare."
I turned to Jason and explained what had happened at the restaurant. Helistened intently.
"You see," I concluded, "the germ kills desire. Sarakoff and I live on alevel of consciousness that is undisturbed by any craving. We live in awonderful state of peace, which is only broken by the appearance ofphysical danger--against which, of course, the germ is not proof."
Jason was silent.
"Do you mean to tell me," he said at length, in a very deliberate voice,"that the effect of the germ is to destroy ambition?"
/> "Worldly ambition, certainly," I replied. "But I believe that, in time,ambitions of a subtler nature will reveal themselves in us, asImmortals."
Jason smiled very broadly.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you are wonderful men. You have discoveredsomething that benefits humanity enormously. But take my advice--leaveyour other theories alone. Stick to the facts--that your germ curessickness. Drop the talk about immortality and desire. It's toofantastic, even for me. In the meantime I shall spread abroad the newsthat the end of sickness is at hand, and that humanity is on thethreshold of a new era. For that I believe with all my heart."
"One moment," said Sarakoff. "If you believe that this germ does awaywith disease, what is going to cause men to die?"
"Old age."
"But that is a disease itself."
"Wear and tear isn't a disease. That's what kills most of us."
"Yes, but wear and tear comes from desire, Mr. Jason," I said. "And thegerm knocks that out. So what is left, save immortality?"
When Jason left us, I could see that he was impressed by the possibilityof life being, at least, greatly prolonged. And this was the line hetook in his newspapers next day.