They came lower until they could see into the trenches. There were men playing cards, others sleeping; another was vomiting. Another was buttoning up his trousers when his head was blown off. His body stood for a moment with his hand fumbling at his buttons. Then it collapsed ridiculously. One of the men who was playing wiped a card on his breeches and then played it. Another man went mad, climbed out of the trenches and rushed screeching in the direction whence the missile had come. “I have seen enough,” said Ultimus. “Why do they go there?” “Because if they did not Fatterland would be overrun with the savages hired by the Fattish.” “Would that be worse?” “It would not last so long,” replied the officer, “but we should have lost our honour as a nation.” “That,” said Ultimus, “is exactly how the most beautiful woman in Fatland talks. What is this honour?” “It is holy,” said the officer with so fatuously fervent an expression that Ultimus laughed. “Does your Highness wish to see the eastern frontier?” “No, thank you. That is enough.” The airship soared up. It was now night. The stars came out and Ultimus mused: “Out of all the planets why should this be tortured with the life of men? Is it their vast numbers that drive them mad? Or are they so vile that war is their normal condition and peace only a rest from it?” For the first time Ultimus responded to the beauty of the world. They flew low over mountains, and great rivers and wide valleys. The variety of it all entranced him, accustomed as he was to the monotony of the sea and the narrow limitations of the island. Apart from the horror of war it was amazing to him that men should desert such loveliness to spend their days in holes dug in the ground. XV: SIEBENHAAR ON SOCIETY Meanwhile on the island the philosopher and the chambermaid lived through difficult hours. The girl wept without ceasing and said if she had known how dull it was going to be she never would have come. Remembering Arabella’s dissatisfaction, Siebenhaar said: “Women have no resources within themselves. They take life too seriously. It is never amusing to them. Society is organised for their protection and amusement and they take no interest in it, and let men, who are only worried or irritated by it, bring it to ruin without a protest. Women are the criminals who are responsible for everything, for they encourage men in their vanity and weaken them in their power. They desire safety, and detest originality, intellect, imagination.” The chambermaid sobbed: “I thought it was going to be fun to be a Queen, but there is no fun in reigning over sticks and stones.” “Women,” said Siebenhaar, “want their lovers and their babies and their fun. When they have to choose between the three, they choose their fun. No. They are not the criminals; it is men who are that for letting them have their fun to keep them quiet. Oh! Ultimus, that was a true instinct of yours to destroy them in their thousands!”