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spirit. “I wish people would stop thinking of me as a dictator, and remember I’m only a civil servant trying to administer a colonial policy in whose shaping I had no hand.”
That, thought Stormgren, was quite an engaging description. He wondered just how much truth it held.
“Can’t you at least give us some reason for your concealment? Because we don’t understand it, it annoys us and gives rise to endless rumours.”
Karellen gave that rich, deep laugh of his, just too resonant, to be altogether human.
“What am I supposed to be now? Does the robot theory still hold the field? I’d rather be a mass of electron tubes than a thing like a centipede-oh yes, I’ve seen that cartoon in yesterday’s Chicago Times! I’m thinking of requesting the original.”
Stormgren pursed his lips primly. There were times, he thought, when Karellen took his duties too lightly.
“This is serious,” he said reprovingly.
“My dear Rikki,” Karellen retorted, “it’s only by not taking the human race seriously that I retain what fragments of my once considerable mental powers I still possess!”
Despite himself Stormgren smiled.
“That doesn’t help me a great deal, does it? I have to go down there and convince my fellow men that although you won’t show yourself, you’ve got nothing to hide. It’s not an easy job. Curiosity is one of the most dominant of human characteristics. You can’t defy it forever.”
“Of all the problems that faced us when we came to Earth, this was the most difficult,” admitted Karellen. “You have trusted our wisdom in other matters-surely you can trust us in this!”
“I trust you,” said Stormgren, “but Wainwright doesn’t, nor do his supporters. Can you really blame them if they put a bad interpretation on your unwillingness to show yourselves?”
There was silence for a moment. Then Stormgren heard that faint sound (was it a crackling?) that might have been caused by the Supervisor moving his body slightly.
“You know why Wainwright and his type fear me, don’t you?” asked Karellen. His voice was sombre now, like a great organ rolling its notes from a high cathedral nave. “You will find men like him in all the world’s religions. They know that we represent reason and science, and however confident they may
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be in their beliefS, they fear that we will overthrow their gods.
Not necessarily through any deliberate act, but in a subtler fashion. Science can destroy religion by ignoring it as well as by disproving its tenets. No-one ever demonstrated, so far as I am aware, the non-existence of Zeus or Thor-but they have few followers now. The Wainwrights fear, too, that we know the truth about the origins of their faiths. How long, they wonder, have we been observing humanity? Have we watched Mohammed begin the Hegira, or Moses giving the Jews their laws? Do we know all that is false in the stories they believe?”
“And do you?” whispered Stormgren, half to himselL
“That, Rikki, is the fear that torments them, even though they will never admit it openly. Believe me, it gives us no pleasure to destroy men’s faiths, but all the world’s religions cannot be right-and they know it. Sooner or later man has to learn the truth: but that time is not yet. As for our secrecy, which you are correct in saying aggravates our problems-that is a matter beyond our control. I regret the need for this concealment as much as you do, but the reasons are sufficient. However, I will try and get a statement from my-superiors- which may satisfy you and perhaps placate the Freedom League. Now, please, can we return to the agenda and start recording again?”
“Well?” asked van Ryberg anxiously. “Did you have any luck?”
“I don’t know,” Stormgren replied wearily as he threw the files down on his desk and collapsed into the seat. “Karellen’s consulting his superiors now, whoever or whatever they may be. He won’t make any promises.”
“Listen,” said Pieter abruptly, “I’ve just thought of something. What reason have we for believing that there is anyone beyond Karellen? Suppose all the Overlords, as we’ve christened them, are right here on Earth in these ships of theirs?
They may have nowhere else to go, but they’re hiding the fact
from us.”
“It’s an ingenious theory,” grinned Stormgren. “But It clashes with what little I know-or think I know-about Karellen’s background.”
“And how much Is that?”
“Well, he often refers to his position here as something
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temporary, hindering him from getting on with his real work, which I think is some form of mathematics. Once I mentioned Acton’s quotation about power corrupting, and absolute power corrupting absolutely. I wanted to see how he’d react to that. He gave that cavernous laugh of his, and said: ‘There’s no danger of that happening to me. In the first case, the sooner I finish my work here, the sooner I can get back to where I belong, a good many light-years from here. And secondly, I don’t have absolute power, by any means. I’m just-Supervisor.’ Of course, he may have been misleading me. I can never be sure of that.”
“He’s immortal isn’t he?”
“Yes, by our standards, though there’s something in the future he seems to fear: I can’t imagine what it is. And that’s really all I know about him.”
“It isn’t very conclusive. My theory is that his little fleet’s lost in space and is looking for a new home. He doesn’t want us to know how few he and his comrades are. Perhaps all those other ships are automatic, and there’s no-one in any of them. They’re just an imposing fa�ade.”
“You,” said Stormgren, “have been reading too much science-fiction.”
Van Ryberg grinned, a little sheepishly.
“The ‘Invasion From Space’ didn’t turn out quite as expected, did it? My theory would certainly explain why Karellen never shows himself. He doesn’t want us to learn that there aren’t any more Overlords.”
Stormgren shook his head in amused disagreement.
“Your explanation, as usual, is much too ingenious to be true. Though we can only infer its existence, there must be a great civilization behind the Supervisor-and one that’s known about man for a very long time. Karellen himself must have been studying us for centuries. Look at his command of English, for example. He taught me how to speak it idiomatically!”
“Have you ever discovered anything he doesn’t know?”
“Oh yes, quite often-but only on trivial points. I think he has an absolutely perfect memory, but there are some things he hasn’t bothered to learn. For instance, English is the only language he understands completely, though in the last two years he’s picked up a good deal of Finnish just to tease me. And one doesn’t learn Finnish in a hurry! He can quote great
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slabs of the ‘Kalevala’, whereas I’m ashamed to say I know only a few lines. He also knows the biographies of all living statesmen, and sometimes I can identify the references he’s used. His knowledge of history and science seems complete-. you know how much we’ve already learned from him. Yet, taken one at a time, I don’t think his mental gifts are quite outside the range ot human achievement. But no man could possibly do all the things he does.”
“That’s more or less what I’ve decided already,” agreed van Ryberg. “We can argue round Karellen forever, but in the end we always come back to the same question-why the devil won’t he show himself? Until he does, I’ll go on theorizing and the Freedom League will go on fulminating.”
He cocked a rebellious eye at the ceiling.
“One dark night, Mr. Supervisor, I hope some reporter takes a rocket up to your ship and climbs in through the back-door with a camera. What a scoop that would be!” –
If Karellen was listening, be gave no sign. But, of course, he never did.
In the first year of their coming, the advent of the Overlords had made less difference to the pattern of human life than might have been expected. Their shadow was everywhere, but it was an unobtrusive shadow. Though there were few great cities on Earth where men could not see one of the silver ships glittering against the zenith, after a little while they were taken as much for granted as the sun, moon or clouds. Most men were probably only dimly aware that their steadily rising standards of living were due to the Overlords. When they stopped to think of it-which was seldom-they realized that those silent ships had brought peace to all the world for the first time in history, and were duly grateful.
But these were negative and unspectacular benefits, accepted and soon forgotten. The Overlords remained aloof, hiding their faces from mankind. Karellen could command respect and admiration: he could win nothing deeper so long as he pursued his present policy. It was hard not to feel resentment against these Olympians who spoke to man only over the radio-teleprinter circuits at United Nations Headquarters. What took place between Karellen and Stormgren was never publicly revealed, and sometimes Stormgren himself wondered why the Supervisor found these interviews necessary. Perhaps he