Science fiction, American; Space colonies -- Fiction
Natt Roberts said, his voice musing, "But even that isn't the important
thing. The Co-ordinator sent us here to find a _method_ of bringing
backward cultures to industrialization. Have you got a blueprint to show
him, when you return? Can you trace out the history of Genoa for this
past half century and say, this war was necessary for progress--but
that should have been avoided? Or is this whole _free competition_
program of yours actually nothing but chaos which _sometimes_ works out
wonderfully for _some_ nations, but actually destroys others? You have
scorned our methods, our collectivized society--but when we return,
we'll have a blueprint of how we arrived where we are."
Gunther banged the table with his gavel. "Just a moment. Is there any
reason why we have to listen to these accusations when--"
Watson held up a hand, curtly, "Let us finish. If you have something to
say, we'll gladly listen when we're through."
Gunther was flushed but he snapped, "Go ahead then, but don't think any
of we Genoese are being taken in."
Watson said, "True enough, it took us a time to unite our people ..."
"Time and blood," Peter MacDonald muttered.
"... But once underway the Texcocan State has moved on in a progression
unknown in any of the Genoese nations. To industrialize a society you
must reach a certain taking off point, a point where you have sufficient
industry, particularly steel, sufficient power, sufficient scientists,
technicians and skilled workers. Once that point has been reached you
can move in almost a geometric progression. You build a steel mill and
with the steel produced you build two more mills the following year,
which in turn gives you the material for four the next year."
Buchwald grunted his disbelief.
Watson looked up and down the line of Genoese, the Earthmen as well as
the natives. "On Texcoco we have now reached that point. We have a
trained, eager population of over one billion persons. Our universities
are turning out highly trained effectives at the rate of more than
twenty million a year. We have located all the raw materials we will
need. We are now under way." He looked at them in heavy amusement. "By
the end of the next decade we will bury you."
Martin Gunther said calmly, "Are you through?"
"Yes. For the time," Watson nodded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account