"But know you that the ruler of one of the nations, in order to carry on
this war--which was a war of commerce (never mind what that means)--in
order to carry it on was obliged to make great concessions to his
people. In the other nation, the ruler oppressed the workers, instead,
and drove them mad with his cruelty. So that, not long after the end of
the war, there was a great rebellion among the people who had been so
long oppressed, and their government was overthrown."
Back on the earth the four investigators reflected on this in amazement.
The case was wonderfully like that of Russia after the great war.
Perhaps--
"Immediately the other nation forced its soldiers to fight the
victorious rebels. But at home the workers had tasted of power. Many
refused to work at all; and one day, behold, there were two rebellions
instead of one! And within a very short time the whole world was
governed by--the working class!"
So this was what the Venusians had meant when they wrote that Sanus was
ruled by the workers!
"What became of these rebellions?" Rolla asked, little understanding
what it meant, but curious anyhow.
"Devastation!" stated Somat solemnly. He waved a hand, to include all
that lay within the ruined city. "Not altogether because of the workers,
although they were scarcely fit for ruling but because the former rulers
and others of that kind, who liked to oppose their wills upon others,
saw fit to start a fresh rebellion. Conflict followed conflict;
sometimes workers were in power, and sometimes aristocrats. But the
fighting ended not until"--he drew a deep breath--"until there were none
left to fight!"
"Ye mean," demanded Rolla incredulously, "that your people killed
themselves off in this fashion?"
Aye," sorrowfully. "There were a few of us--they called us 'the middle
class'--who urged equality. We wanted a government in which all classes
were represented fairly; what we called a democracy. Once the experiment
was started, but it failed.
"Saw ye the skeletons in the streets?" he went on." 'Twas a dreadful
sight, those last few days. I were but a lad, yet I remember it all too
well." He paused, then broke out fiercely: "I tell ye that I saw brother
slay brother, father slay son, son slay mother, in those last days!
"Lucky am I that I fled, I and my parents! They took me to a mountainous
country, but even there the madness spread, and one day a soldier of the
army killed my father and my mother. He sought me, also, that he might
slay me; but I hid from him beneath a heap of manure. Aye," he gritted
savagely, "I owe my life to a pile of manure!
"These other eleven men all have like tales to tell. Only one woman
survived those awful days. Young Sorplee is her son; his father was a
soldier, whom she herself slew with her own hands. Even she is now dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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