Last Conflict Read online

  LAST CONFLICT

  CLASSIC SCIENCE

  FICTION STORIES

  JOHN RUSSELL FEARN

  Edited by Philip Harbottle

  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  Copyright © 1942, 1946, 1955 by John Russell Fearn

  Copyright © 2012 by Philip Harbottle

  Published by Wildside Press LLC

  www.wildsidebooks.com

  These stories were previously published individually as follows, and are reprinted by permission of the author’s estate and his agent, Cosmos Literary Agency.

  “Last Conflict” was first published in Fantasy #1, December 1946. Copyright © 1946 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2012 by Philip Harbottle.

  “Nemesis” was first published as “The Last Hours” in Amazing Stories, May 1942. Copyright © 1942 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2012 by Philip Harbottle

  “Three’s a Crowd” was first published in British Space Fiction Magazine #13, 1955. Copyright © 1955 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2012 by Philip Harbottle.

  BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY JOHN RUSSELL FEARN

  1,000-Year Voyage: A Science Fiction Novel

  Black Maria, M.A.: A Classic Crime Novel

  The Crimson Rambler: A Crime Novel

  Don’t Touch Me: A Crime Novel

  Dynasty of the Small: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Empty Coffins: A Mystery of Horror

  The Fourth Door: A Mystery Novel

  From Afar: A Science Fiction Mystery

  The G-Bomb: A Science Fiction Novel

  Here and Now: A Science Fiction Novel

  Into the Unknown: A Science Fiction Tale

  Last Conflict: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Man from Hell: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Man Who Was Not: A Crime Novel

  One Way Out: A Crime Novel (with Philip Harbottle)

  Pattern of Murder: A Classic Crime Novel

  Reflected Glory: A Dr. Castle Classic Crime Novel

  Robbery Without Violence: Two Science Fiction Crime Stories

  Shattering Glass: A Crime Novel

  The Silvered Cage: A Scientific Murder Mystery

  Slaves of Ijax: A Science Fiction Novel

  The Space Warp: A Science Fiction Novel

  The Time Trap: A Science Fiction Novel

  Vision Sinister: A Scientific Detective Thriller

  What Happened to Hammond? A Scientific Mystery

  Within That Room!: A Classic Crime Novel

  DEDICATION

  For David Ward

  LAST CONFLICT

  To the uninitiated youth from Paradise Acres, London was a monstrous giant that awed and overwhelmed him, yet which fired within him a reckless desire to master its hugeness. He stood at the corner surveying it all, an untidy boy of seventeen whose clothes bespoke the neediness of his upbringing. Passers-by glanced at him curiously, but did not speak.

  He had heard that the city was divided into two great circles, the inner one containing all the wealth and brains it possessed, the outer relegated to the Workers, the humdrum wage earners with little ambition beyond their daily bread. The tremendous advance of science and social welfare had laid their impress upon this new London of the early part of the twenty-second century, but in the process of the change had come a sharp cleavage between its citizens. Now, one was either very rich or very poor, very intelligent or very dense, the sole key to power being either exceptional ability or wealth.

  Young Melvin Read, at the street corner, had very little money. But he was more than assured of his abilities.

  “Looking for something, sonny?” a voice asked at his elbow. He glanced up at the burly figure of a city police officer.

  “Yes,” he nodded, entirely confident. “I’m looking for the Scientific Institute. I have an appointment there.”

  “That’s the Institute down there.” The constable pointed, then looked at the boy doubtfully. “You know, by rights I ought to detain you at the station while your circumstances are looked into.”

  Melvin frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Which shows you don’t belong to this city. Everybody here, Intellectual or Worker, knows the regulations.”

  “I’m from Paradise Acres,” Melvin explained. “I came here first thing this morning, by monobus.”

  The officer reflected, as though uncertain where his duty lay. Paradise Acres was a garden suburb beyond the outskirts of the city proper, a backwater of the Workers, despised by its neighbours.

  “Well?” asked the boy, challengingly. “Are you going to run me in or not?”

  “No—but I should. Better be on your way before I change my mind.” The officer’s eyes twinkled.

  Melvin nodded, murmured his thanks, and hurried through the crowds of shoppers and strollers in the afternoon sunshine. He was grateful for the shade of the Institute’s great hall, and paused for a moment to get his bearings, At length he saw the door of the reception office. He opened it quietly, closed it carefully behind him, and found himself in a deserted, well-furnished room with a fan whirring softly in the ornate| ceiling.

  “State your business, please!”

  He gave a start and cast a bewildered look round. On a screen set in the wall he saw the stern visage of a woman, and below the screen a loudspeaker.

  “Name, please, and nature of business,” the image insisted. “Speak plainly. The pick-ups will carry your voice.”

  Melvin cleared his throat. “I’m—I’m Melvin Read, from Paradise Acres. I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Colin Melbridge. He works here. He’s a scientist.”

  “When was this appointment made?” the woman asked, acidly.

  The boy hesitated before he replied. “Five years ago.”

  “Five years ago! Hmm—just as I thought! A cheap trick to try to gain admission to the Institute. Rebellious young men like you have tried it before, and I’m here to prevent it. For your information, Mr. Melbridge has been dead these two years as a result of a laboratory accident.”

  “Dead!” Melvin gasped. “But—but he can’t be! I mean— Well, he told me to come here in five years’ time and ask for him. I’ve witnesses to prove it—my brother Levison, and Lalia Melbridge. They were there when I asked Mr. Melbridge if I could get a job in the Institute, and he told me to come and see him when I was seventeen.”

  The woman’s expression softened a little. “You mean Miss Melbridge?”

  “Yes, Mr. Melbridge’s daughter. She was about thirteen then....”

  The boy waited breathlessly as the receptionist considered. Then she said, tersely: “Your statement can be verified. Sit down, please.”

  The screen blanked and Melvin waited, anxious, but still hopeful. Presently an inner door opened and a slender, fair-haired girl in a white smock came in. He leapt to his feet, returning her stare. She hesitated a moment, then came forward with outstretched hand.

  “Melvin Read! I couldn’t believe it when they told me. I’m a student employee here. Do sit down.”

  She drew him on to a settee beside her, searched his serious, firm features with her clear blue eyes.

  “I’m glad you remember me,” he said, awkwardly. “I didn’t get a very warm reception from the old battle axe—”

  “Miss Hart?” She laughed. “Oh, don’t take any notice of her! But you—you came to look for Dad?”

  “I’ve heard about him being killed, from Miss Hart. I’m sorry—for you, I mean, not because he can’t help me. But I’m still in earnest, Miss Melbridge. I love scientific things, and I want a job in this city. I’m only a Worker’s son, but—”

  “Call me Lalia,” she encouraged. “Like you used to. You know, you really deserve a job here as reward for your patience and determinat
ion. I owe it to you, anyway, if I’m to keep Dad’s promise. Just think how it all started when you and your brother saved me from drowning in that brook at Paradise Acres five years ago. I was trying to fish—remember?”

  The boy nodded, his grey eyes reflective. “I’ve often wondered what your father must have thought of us and whether he remembered. He asked us what we wanted as a reward for saving you. Levison didn’t want anything, and I asked for a job in the city when I grew up. Your father told me to come and see him in five years’ time, and to study some special science until then. And I’ve done that, Lalia.”

  “You have? What subject?”

  “Atomic physics, the same as Levison. He wants to be a scientist too, only he hasn’t the ambition that I have. He’s got some idea about helping other people with his knowledge, no matter what it costs him. Silly, really—he’ll never get anywhere. I want to help myself, to make enough money to stand on my own feet like my father did. He was clever; he would have been an Intellectual by now if— Oh, Levison’s a fool!” he finished, irritably.

  Lalia looked puzzled. “Rather strange to find twins with such different temperaments, isn’t it? You are twins, aren’t you?”

  He nodded, sullenly. “We’re identical in looks, but in nothing else,” he assured her. He was silent for a moment, then went on urgently; “I need a job, Lalia—badly. Science is the only thing that interests me, and I need money to help Mother at home. Levison’s started to make a little money, but one of us has got to make lots of it, and I’m the one. I’ve studied hard these past five years, hoping your father would keep his promise to me. He isn’t here now, but if you could help me—”

  She pondered. “Dad was a senior Chemist, and I’m only a student at the moment, with no influence whatever. All I can do is put your case before the Chief, Mernas Steele, and see if he can let you sit for an examination for the Electronics Department. Dad was a great friend of his; he helped him in his early days. If I told him about Dad’s promise—”

  “You’d really do that?” The boy’s eyes widened.

  “You saved my life, didn’t you? Come along with me,” she said.

  * * * *

  Lalia Melbridge had taken a big risk on behalf of Melvin Read and it was only later that he realized it. Had he not proved himself unusually promising when it came to the examination, the girl might have been discharged for allowing such a rank outsider to seek admission to the hallowed precincts of the city’s Intellectual Circle. But as it happened Melvin more than justified himself, and his untiring application to the post that automatically followed soon established him firmly.

  Indeed, though she had inherited much of her father’s ability, Lalia found it hard to keep pace with Melvin’s brilliance. He began in a fairly lowly position, and remained so for a year—then his uncommon skill earned him the position of overseer of a small student section. From then on there was no stopping him. Spurred by the streak of ruthless ambition in his nature, in five years he had become third in importance in his Department; and in ten years, though still but twenty-seven, he was answerable only to the Chief Scientist for his decisions.

  To Lalia, watching his meteoric progress with quiet interest, he was a man to admire. His general brusqueness she dismissed as the natural manner of a busy, astute thinker, and she accepted his orders without question. Pride admiration, love—she experienced all these emotions in turn, and wondered if any feelings other than his passion for science and his driving ambition ever stirred beneath his hard exterior. Finally she set herself to find out.

  Melvin found her at the door of his home one summer evening, almost ten years to the day since he had entered the city as an immature youth. He lived on his own in a special residential quarter of the Intellectuals on the rim of the city’s inner circle, which was carefully separated from the outer ring of humble Workers’ dwellings by a broad belt of green parkland segmented by great highways radiating like spokes from the towering central hub.

  “Why, Lalia!” He was obviously surprised to see her at the door, her neat little runabout just outside the gate. “Come in—if you’ll forgive the general untidiness. A bachelor home, you know....”

  “You need a wife,” she smiled, as he took her coat. But he seemed not to notice the remark and motioned her to his study across the hall.

  “Make yourself at home,” he invited, reaching for a silver box. “Cigarette?”

  His grey eyes met hers over the flame of the lighter. She asked: “You don’t mind my coming here? Your neighbours may question the ethics, since this is the house of the Vice-Chief of Electronics. It might start gossip, though I didn’t think of it until I’d almost got here.”

  “Then it does no good to think of it now,” he said briefly, as she sat down. “I’m sure you have a perfectly good reason for coming. As for the narrow minds and prattling tongues of my neighbours, one day they’ll be proud of having lived within a mile of here.”

  Lalia only smiled. She was used to his egotism.

  “I suppose,” he went on, “you did come for some special reason?”

  Her upturned gaze was steady as she replied, softly: “I came to see if you are the lonely man I think you are in private life.”

  “Lonely!” He gave her a keen look. “The busy man is never lonely, Lalia. I have plenty to occupy me.”

  She hesitated. “Don’t you think I might share your interests—help you? I’ve a good scientific knowledge, have worked beside you for ten years. Doesn’t it all count for something?”

  He looked down at her pensively, then smiled tautly as he sat down beside her. “You sound like a woman in love!”

  “All right, I am. You’d have seen that long ago if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your work. Not that I blame you; you’ve done very well. But surely you can afford to relax now and again? There are other things—”

  He shook his head impatiently. “I can’t relax, Lalia, until I’ve achieved the objective I set myself as a boy—nothing less than absolute control of this city.”

  She was silent for a moment, her fair head bowed. Then, suddenly, she said: “You’re aiming high, aren’t you, trying to attain the Mastership? It will take you another twenty years. We won’t be young any more then, Melvin.”

  “You believe in taking things into your own hands, don’t you?” he remarked dryly. “Of course, I can see your point of view. Womanlike, you think our ten years of friendship and your help in the beginning give you the right to own me.”

  “Nothing so unpleasant,” she objected quietly. “I am suggesting, since you seem too occupied to consider it yourself, that we get married. Why not? We have the same interests, the same ambitions, and you must know I would never have done so much for you if—if I hadn’t loved you from the start.”

  “Marriage,” he answered slowly, “is an emotional distraction I can’t afford at this moment. With a beautiful woman like you for my wife, I might lose my grip on essentials. But—”

  She sat waiting for him to continue. For a while he seemed to be weighing something in his mind. Finally, he nodded in decision.

  “There’s no point in attaining my objective entirely alone. In fact, your help is just what I need at this stage. Let me show you something.”

  He moved to a wall safe and took out a roll of blueprints, laid them flat on his desk, and switched on the reading lamp so that the light fell across them. She rose and stood beside him.

  “Something electronic?” she asked presently.

  His grey eyes narrowed. “I believe this will give me the Mastership. The idea has absorbed my mind this past ten years. With this machine I can control the weather. Think what that means in a climate like ours.”

  “But that’s wonderful!” Her admiring gaze was on him. “But,” she added, dubiously, “Rufus Latimer will never give up the Mastership. He’s too popular, anyway.”

  “Popular!” His tone was contemptuous. “Popularity isn’t power. He may have earned his position by his contribution to science, bu
t he can’t keep it forever and he’s had it long enough. I have here something greater than Latimer ever conceived. Once the Intellectuals know of it—and they will, very soon—they will have to depose him in my favour. If they don’t—”

  She almost recoiled from the glare he gave her, the fierce determination in his voice. He saw her startled look, recovered himself quickly, and said in even tones: “Produce something better than the Master and you become the Master. That’s the rule, isn’t it?”

  Suddenly he seized her hands in his own, looked into her face in desperate earnest. “Listen, Lalia. Wouldn’t it be better to build this machine before we turn to more personal matters. It’s a great bargaining weapon, and Master and Mistress of London is better than plain Mr. and Mrs. Read, isn’t it?”

  She was smiling now. “Perhaps,” she said. “Though I haven’t got your all-consuming ambition, remember. Still, if you want it that way—”

  “Good!” His smile was broader than she had seen it for many years. “You’ve solved something of a problem for me. I’d been wondering how I was going to get this machine built quickly and secretly, without assistance. I want the help of someone I can trust. If we work together at the Institute at night, we can finish the machine in three months. Nobody can question what we’re doing if I have authorised it—except Steele, of course, and I can satisfy him all right. And it really needs two people to construct a machine as intricate as this one.”

  “How does it work?” she asked, frowning over the blueprints.

  “Quite simply, it will produce reactions in the atmospheric layers and vary the pressures normally controlled by wind action, thereby achieving climatic stability.”

  The girl’s frown deepened. “You’re not too generous with the details, are you?” she said. “In these plans—” She stopped, and her brows lifted slightly. “But perhaps you don’t want to tell me too much about it?”

  He regarded her steadily as he rolled up the prints.

  “I ask you to co-operate with me, Lalia, without my having to explain more than is necessary for your part in the actual construction. It isn’t that I don’t trust you, but what you don’t know you cannot repeat, even in an unguarded moment.”