Evening Star Newspaper, October 20, 1935, Page 88

6 Magazine Section THE STORY SO FAR UR civilization wrecked by the second World War, whichlasts for thirty years. New York, London, Paris — all our great cities laid in ruins. Steamships sunk, railroads ripped up, factories bombed, industry destroyed. Half the people in the world — men, women, little children — killed by high explosives, gas and pestilence. National frontiers wiped out as all countries are churned in the great cauldron of war. Nations falling apart into petty states ruled by military dictators. You and your children and your grand- children — if any survive — liv- ing in chaos like that of the Middle Ages. This is the world as H. G. Wells sees it in 1970. Can mankind pull out, and if so, how? Who canrebuild civilization ? *‘Science!” says Wells. The encineers, the inventors, the cool-headed men of brains. Men clever enough to win power peacefully; intelligent enough to use it not just for themselves, but for the good of all people. Agroupofsuchmenand women, those who havesurvived the thirty years of war, come together and establish headquarters at Basra. They call their organization Wings Over the World, the brotherhood of science. They construct new, better airplanes. They perfect a ‘‘peace gas’ which makes those who breatheit fall asleep for forty- eight hours. With planes and gas they get control of the world and build a new civilization for man- kind. By 2054 all peoples are united in one nation. What will this new world of your grandchildren be like? Wells gives you his idea of it in the following installment, the fourth in a five part serial. CHAPTER V A. D. 2054 copulos, the rebel artist of the new era. He speaks with force and bittermess: “I do not like this machinery. All these wheels going round. Everything going so fast andslick. No."” Theotocopulos is sitting at the foot of a great mass of marble. He is wearing the white overalls of a sculptor and carries a mallet and a chisel. A second sculptor, a bearded man, says: ‘“Well, what can we do about it?"’ Theotocopulos: “Talk.Talk. Radiois every- where. This modern world is full of voices. I am going to talk all this machinery down.” ‘‘But will they let you?"” Theotocopulos, imperiously: “They’ll let me. I shall call my talks, ‘Art and Life.’ That sounds harmless enough. And I will go for this brave New World of theirs —tooth and claw.” . A large space, rather than a room, par- taking of the nature of a conservatory and THIS WEEK Things to Come (ities built underground, with artificial light and weather; wireless telephones carried on the wrist; rockets to the moon—these are some of the things which this new serial predicts for your grandchildren—after the second World War by H. G. WELLS A startling prophecy in a new fiction form—the scenario. Later you can see this story on the screen, produced by Alexander Korda large drawing-room. There are neither pillars nor right angles. The roof curves gently over the space. Beautiful plants and a fountain. Through the plants one catches a glimpse of the City Ways. An old gentleman of a hun- dred and ten years or thereabouts, but good- looking and well preserved, sits in an arm- chair. A pretty little girl lies on a couch and looks at a piece of apparatus on ‘which pic- tures appear. It has a simple control knob. A capuchin monkey is playing with a ball on the rug. Adoll in an exaggerated costume of the period lies on a seat. Girl: “I like these history lessons.” The apparatus is showing Lower New York from above — an airplane travelogue. Little Girl: ‘“‘What a funny place New York was — all sticking up and full of windows." Old Man: “They built houses like that in the old days.” Little Girl: “Why?” “They had no light inside their cities as we have. So they had to stick the houses up into the daylight — what there was of it. They had no properly mixed and conditioned air.” He manipulates the knob and shows a sim- ilar view of Paris. “Everybody lived half out of doors. And windows of soft brittle glass everywhere. The Age of Windows lasted four centuries. They never seemed to realize that we could light the interiors of our houses with sunshine of our own."” Little Girl: “They keep on inventing new things now, don't they? And making life love- lier and lovelier?"” “Yes . . . Lovelier — and bolder. I suppose I'm an old man, my dear, but some of it seems almost like going too far. This Space Gun that they keep on shooting . . . "’ “What ¢s this Space Gun, great-grand- father?”’ “Itis a gun they discharge by electricity — a lot of guns one inside the other — each one October 20, 1935 Illustration by Jules Gotlieb LOUD querulous voice: *‘I G N b . : s . . i< el “This is a new world,” he said. “It drives to greater destinies. Theold Love Storyis nearly finished with” ical triumphs.” The voice is the voice of Theoto- discharges the next inside. I don't properly understand that. But the cylinder it shoots out at Jast goes so fast that it goes — swish — right away from the earth.” “What! Right out into the sky! To the stars!"” “They may get to the stars in time, but what they shoot at now is the moon.” “You mean they shoot cylinders at the moon! Poor old moon!” “Not exactly at it. They shoot the cylinder 80 that it travels round the other side of the moon and comes back, and there’s a safe place in the Pacific Ocean whereit drops. They get more and more accurate. They say they can tell within twenty miles where it will come back and they l:eep the sea clear for it. You see?"’ “But how splendid. And can people go in the cylinders? Can I go when I grow up? And see the other side of the moon! And plump back — ker-splosh! — into the sea?"” R ——————T