Not in the Script — Reading Notes

Jules Barnes' assignment was to write a play which would save Earth from an invasion; he wrote well--and yet the crucial scene was--

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy December 1955 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Colen Shratt studied his image in the silver-framed mirror. His mustache was neatly clipped, his face clean shaven and well talcumed. His captain's uniform--light blue--was pressed and looked as if it had just been bought. He was fastidious in everything he did.

He looked away from the mirror as the valet approached.

"Mr. Barnes is ready to see you, sir," the valet said.

Captain Shratt was ushered into a study where Jules Barnes was waiting.

"Won't you be seated?" Barnes invited.

The captain sat, laid his cap on his knee.

"Mind if I have one?"

Barnes fixed himself a drink. He seated himself on a sofa, leaned back and said: "Now what's it all about? What would an intelligence officer want with me?"

"I'm not only representing the Americas at this moment, Mr. Barnes, but all of earth as well. I'm here to ask you to do a service for the world."

"A service?" Barnes sipped at his drink. "You must be mistaken about me captain. I'm just a playwright."

"But I haven't made a mistake, Mr. Barnes. And you _can_ save the world. Just by writing a play."

"Mr. Barnes, within two months we shall have a visitor from Mars."

Jules Barnes finished his drink. "You don't say?"

"Are you sure you won't have a drink? Or have you had too many?"

"Mind if I use your phone?"

The captain dialled a number, said into the mouthpiece: "General?... Shratt. I'm at Barnes.... Yes. Of course. Have the President put on, will you?" The captain turned to Barnes. "You'd recognize the voice of William Livingstone, the President of the Americas, wouldn't you?"

Barnes nodded his head silently.

He took the receiver from Shratt and listened gravely.

The captain watched the playwright put down the receiver. "Well?" he said.

Barnes sat down, gulped noisily. "I'm listening."

"We're going to have a visitor from the planet Mars. Now supposedly, they will be on a friendly mission. But that will not be so. Their purpose is to determine our strength. If they decide we are ahead in nuclear physics and rocket-ship expansion we will be attacked. If they decide we are behind in experiments then we will be safe."

"I don't understand. Why shouldn't they attack us if they know we are weak?"

"They're not in any great hurry. If they believe we are strong and ready to launch rocket ships into space then they will stop us, determined we should never leave our planet to conquer space. If they believe we are weak and backward, they will let us alone, for the time being. As long as we aren't a threat then they'll feel safe, ready to conquer us at their own sweet time. They move when they think we're strong, ready to blast ships into space, ready to conquer the stars. Till then they'll let us alone, knowing we're weak and ineffectual."

"How do you know all this?" Barnes asked, moving to make himself and Shratt drinks. This time, the captain accepted his drink. "How can you possibly know of their plans?"

"We've picked up their ship by radar. We've been listening in on their conversations with Mars through a new I.B.M. machine. And Germany has sent their best code experts to give a hand. They broke down the language. And the messages between Mars and their ship was in code. So the experts did a double job, and well too, I might add. All the governments of the world have been alerted. They're all ready to cooperate."

"Well, where do I come in?"

"We want you to write a play."

"Yes. A play. And every industry on earth will be a participant. You will write and direct. The world will be the stage. Don't you see? You will write and direct every move that will convince the Martians we are backward, we are nothing, we are insignificant. They must be convinced our industry doesn't compare with theirs, our brains are childish to theirs, our leaders are weak and ineffectual, our weapons mere toys. You must write this play before they get here. It will be your greatest triumph. It will be the play of all plays. It will be the play that will save the world from destruction. It must be written within a month. That's what we want you to do."

"Within a month? That's impossible."