Meleager

by Herbert M. Vaughan

From the moment of his election there is an amplitude of employment for the new-comer. Thus of the junior councillors four hold the onerous posts of registrars of all births and deaths throughout the realm, their business in this capacity taking them far afield, for the whole system of Meleagrian registration is closely bound up with its public policy and edicts. Two more are concerned with the shipping and fishing industries; two with the control and inspection of the colonies in Barbaria; two are entrusted with the interests of the many indentured labourers; two or more act as commissioners of forest lands; at least four are charged with the important and troublesome duties as regards public sanitation and hygiene; and so on till every public department falls under the direct supervision of the nominees of this Council of Seventy and more. Such a shuffling and allocation of public offices may seem arbitrary and detestable to the windy demagogues of our twentieth-century civilisation; but I can assure my readers, as the result of my most careful and unbiased observation, the practical effect on the well-being of the community at large far exceeds any vaunted results that ever I saw or heard of in any democratic community on Earth. Nor do I marvel; for jobbery, sentimentalism, waste, financial dabbling, denominational intrigue, family influence are all necessarily absent from the workings of a council that is composed only of highly trained persons of gentle birth who, having resigned all the domestic and material interests of life, have no private or monetary ends to consider, but act solely for the benefit of the state, which they have chosen voluntarily to serve after a long preliminary course of special education.

Whenever a member of the council dies, or through failure of health is placed on an honorary footing, the vacant place is quickly filled. The last elected member of the hierarchy summons the chosen probationer and leads him to the council chamber where his brother members are assembled. Here he kneels, whilst a homily on the nature of the high honour conferred on him and the vast sum of confidence reposed in him, is read aloud by the Arch-priest, who acts as president. Impressive rites follow, for nothing is omitted to prove to the new member the terrible fate that awaits any councillor who may be found guilty of any disloyalty, or of even breathing a hint of The Secret, which he is now empowered to learn. What is the fate reserved for any indiscreet or treacherous councillor I cannot say; but I fancy breaches of confidence in the council itself must have been as rare in the past annals of Meleager as was the crime of Marino Faliero in those of the old Venetian republic, whose constitution, by the way, has evidently been carefully digested by the hierarchy. The oath of implicit obedience and of absolute silence having been administered, the new member is then led forward to have his crimson cloak and tunic removed and replaced by the voluminous white robes of his new order. He next receives the formal congratulations of all his colleagues, and is then made fully acquainted with the nature of The Secret, though I myself have a pretty shrewd notion his mind has already been cautiously prepared beforehand for its reception, so that he in fact possesses something more than a mere inkling of the impending revelation, which is announced with due solemnity. Here however the new member's information ceases, so that he possesses exactly the same limited amount of knowledge of The Secret as do I myself. Whether the new councillor will eventually arrive at a position of such trust and reputation as to be invited to enter the interior ring of the council, time alone can show. And it is of this paramount inner force within the council that I now wish to speak.

Of this small secret council within a larger secret council I can only state with certainty that its numbers vary from fourteen (the minimum) to twenty, which latter figure is never exceeded. The members of this inner clique are elected from the other members of the council, but on what principles I cannot say. The great difference between the larger and the smaller sets within the council is this: the latter not only know The Secret, but they are the individuals who carry out its details and work its machinery for the purposes I have already explained. With one exception every member of this interior circle has some time or another performed the voyage between the Earth and Meleager; and how strangely does it strike me in my utter solitude to reflect that here in Meleager are nearly a score of persons whose acquaintance with the planet of my birth is in some ways more extensive than my own! The sole exception is the Arch-priest, who may not be transported to Earth, because he is the one person who is in constant and close touch with the King. The limitation is subtle, but it is sound; for I can imagine some fine possibilities of intrigue between the King and the Arch-priest, if the latter had not only visited the Earth but was also familiar with the extraordinary methods whereby that end was attained. (I need hardly add that no senator of the inner ring is ever allowed to address or visit the King except in the presence of two other councillors.) This picked handful of the council chooses the Arch-priest from the general body, so that this functionary stands in an intermediate position of knowledge concerning the working of The Secret, for he thus knows more than the ordinary member of the council and less than his brethren of the inner ring. He is chiefly charged with the control of the services and staff of the temple, and he has also to superintend the establishment on Mount Crystal, where (so I strongly suspect) are kept in honourable confinement those aged members of the council who have grown infirm or garrulous under stress of years. What exact share these persons of the inner ring partake in the working of The Secret I naturally cannot tell; and I often speculate as to whether they themselves are mechanicians possessing a skill far beyond that achieved by any of our engineers on Earth, or whether they merely control certain servants who own the necessary technical knowledge to carry out the intricacies of the aerial machinery under their instruction. In other words, are these score of elderly men their own mechanics, or are they only overseers of others? For there are certainly large numbers of assistants attached to the service of the council, and a certain proportion of these menials I know to be deaf and dumb, the result, it is whispered, of a certain cruel operation which is inflicted sometimes with the consent of the patient, and sometimes (so I gather) by force following on brutal seizure. Is it that the priests are ever on the look-out for capable young mechanics to train for this purpose, and are such promising youths liable to disappear? On the other hand, many of these deaf and dumb servants of the temple have families, and apart from their unknown duties seem free to come and go; being dumb, they cannot chatter, and being deaf they cannot listen; and since the native language is purely phonetic and not literary, people so afflicted cannot converse with their fingers, as is the case with our deaf-mutes on Earth. My own theory is that these persons, having a natural taste in things scientific, are first carefully trained so as to acquire all the technical skill necessary for the accomplishment of the details of The Secret, and are then to their surprise suddenly given the option of being rendered deaf and dumb to be thus retained in the service of the council, or of being instantly and privately executed, for the hierarchy would have no scruples in so acting if by their refusal to submit The Secret were in any way endangered. All this reasoning however on my part is, I admit, founded on pure supposition. For aught I can adduce to the contrary, the journey to and from the Earth may be accomplished by means of some unknown power of levitation, such as is only claimed on Earth by the mahatmas and skooshoks of Tibet, whose wild theories are laughed to scorn by all enlightened Europeans and Americans. There are, I know, vast vaults beneath the Temple of the Sun, and perhaps these may shelter aeroplanes and cars of a type and capacity undreamed of on Earth; on the other hand, these capacious cellars may merely contain treasure and archives, or indeed nothing at all. Possibly there may be elaborate machines concealed in the temple on Mount Crystal, for I am convinced that it is on this conspicuous mountain that the returning Meleagrian envoys from the Earth alight. But I frankly confess I am completely at a loss to explain the system of communication with the Earth; it is a fascinating subject for speculation, but I am also fully cognizant of its perils to any would-be investigator.

Although there can be comparatively little fear of intrigue arising between the King and the councillors of the second grade, yet there exists no real friendliness or confidence between us. They treat me outwardly with marked deference, whilst I in my turn always show myself cordial and polite, but I have no personal friend in the whole body except the Arch-priest, for whom I have conceived a genuine liking and respect. My intimate companions are practically confined to the nobility, and though they are ignorant and illiterate, yet I prefer their honest prattle to any cautious discussion or interchange of lofty ideas with the highly educated priesthood. Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from eulogising the unselfish devotion of these persons to their tasks of administration, which is shown equally by every member. The clique of the interior circle do not of course participate in the actual business of government, for they are presumed to have reached a higher plane of usefulness to the state, but the junior councillors pursue their avocations with unflagging zeal. The tedious work of registration, which entails constant vigilance and many journeys to remote places; the settlement of trade questions; the management of the twin departments of medicine and sanitation; the marshalling of taxation; the control of the army;—all these and many other duties occupy the whole existence of the councillors who know no rest or respite from their allotted tasks.

Take the instance of hygiene alone. The accumulated wisdom of some two thousand years of the Earth's progress in the science of healing lies all at the disposal of the executive hierarchy of Meleager. And I feel compelled to pay a sincere tribute to the intelligent industry of the councillors in their untiring efforts to produce everywhere a "corpus sanum in civitate sanâ." The abundant water-supplies of the cities; the meticulous care wherewith every source of contamination is traced; the constant experiments that are made daily in the hospitals (less elaborately equipped than our own, but fully as clean and serviceable); the thoughtful measures to preserve existing health and to improve the physical condition of the mass of the citizens;—all testify to the common-sense and thoroughness of the means adopted by the ministers of public hygiene and eugenics. Thanks to their wise measures pure water, pure air, wholesome food, the prompt eradication of all epidemics, and the segregation of the physically or morally unsound are gradually producing a race that for health and happiness has no parallel on our progressive democratic Earth, where the boasted advance of European civilisation only conveys in its train to healthy but nominally uncivilised tribes and nations every species of moral, physical and æsthetic evil that did not exist under the old conditions of isolation and ignorance.

Although belonging to the aristocratic caste, yet these servants of the state wield their power with magnificent impartiality, weeding out the weaklings alike in the families of noble, merchant or plebeian. Adult degenerates are always removed to the island of Madù off the northern coast. Here the sexes are kept apart, but the poor creatures are permitted to live in tolerable comfort and to receive visits from their relatives, who however (it must be confessed) usually display no very marked anxiety to avail themselves of this privilege. For as time advances, it is commonly coming to be regarded as a social offence to harbour in one's household any idiotic or misshapen being. Thus almost all Meleagrians now heartily concur in the state regulations whereby all infants with obvious mental or bodily defects are at once strangled by the officials who attend in the train of the visiting councillors, and they also make little or no objection to the deporting of grown criminals to Madù.

This public acquiescence in a measure destined solely for the improvement of the race as a whole is, I believe, of comparatively recent date. For a long time the removal of malformed and idiotic infants, as well as the enforced deportation of lunatics or seriously diseased persons, was strongly resented by their families; but firm persistence on the part of the hierarchy and a gradual spread of reasonableness among the whole community have slowly gained the public approval for severe regulations that were at first as novel as they were distasteful. I particularly mention this case, as it tends to show that though conciliation of the populace must always form one of the leading tenets of the council's policy, yet it can on occasion enforce an unpopular edict throughout the nation in its own interest, despite the indignant protests of all classes. I have been told that the then reigning King, a most enlightened Switzer, did splendid service for the council by personally in his capacity of Child of the Sun, ordering his father's own people to obey the new regulations. How long ago this struggle arose I have no notion; and oh, how often have I yearned to learn more concerning that predecessor of mine whose memory is still gratefully held by the hierarchy to-day! How and under what circumstances did he finally "cease to reign"? Did he later on attempt to oppose the ruling body, after having saved it from possible collapse? But no questions of mine, however artfully or artlessly addressed, could ever secure me any but evasive answers.

I can never fix in my inconstant mind my exact feeling towards these "potent, grave and reverend signiors" of the council, these impassive and industrious priests (who are in reality not priests at all, for their task is almost purely a secular one, the priestly office being practically merged in that of the statesman). And in the performance of these duties they are as unselfish as they are indefatigable; nor is there any apparent taint of personal jealousy or internal intrigue amongst the hierarchy. When during my rides abroad for pleasure or for hunting I see a pair of these white-robed councillors, equally servants and rulers of the state, visit some remote hamlet and observe the scrupulous care and the genuine interest wherewith they inquire into and carry out every necessary arrangement for the public weal; and when I consider the implicit faith placed by the country folk in their rulers, I am somehow reminded of the mission of the Apostles of old as they wandered through the towns and villages of the Roman world healing and assisting helpless humanity. At other times, however, I am inclined to regard them with a mixture of hatred and contempt, whenever I reflect on the unprecedented system of conscious fraud whereon all their beneficent action rests. How strange, for example, must it seem for a newly elected candidate to learn for the first time that the religious teaching he has imbibed from infancy is a deliberate fabrication, which he himself is now called on to champion and perpetuate; that the divinity of the Sun is a hollow myth; that his Child is a mortal from another planet; that the world of Meleager, far from being the special creation and care of the Sun-god, is in reality a mere speck in a vast solar system, such as has been propounded by our own astronomers Copernicus and Galileo. What a terrible moment it must prove for a sensitive soul, implected with the beautiful mythology of a lifetime, when in a trice the whole of his religious environment is stripped rudely from him like a garment! I often meditate on the unique moral dilemma that must face every new councillor. How fearful an awakening! How difficult for a conscientious nobleman to combine the two phases of a public benefactor and of a promulgator of an elaborate lie! Has any Meleagrian noble of high integrity I wonder ever had the courage or conscience, at the supreme moment, to protest, even at the risk of death? But I presume the preliminary training and preparation bestowed on all probationers are carefully contrived to soften so great a shock, and to lead the postulant gently towards the amazing revelations made at the time of his reception into the council.

The dress of the hierarchy is simple, consisting outwardly of a white woollen toga-like garment that is free from all ornament. I suspect the adoption of this style of dress is borrowed from that of classical Rome, whose laws and customs evidently form the basis of the Meleagrian constitution. A white wand is carried in the hand, and a white fillet is bound round the temples; only on the two great half-yearly festivals are the ornate gold-fringed garments worn in public. The robes of the Arch-priest are likewise of a white woollen material, which in his case are relieved by a bordure of gold brocade, whilst the wand and fillet are also of gold; but on state occasions he dons magnificent vestments of cloth of gold and wears a golden mitre on his head. The Arch-priest's office is naturally more sacerdotal in its nature than that of his comrades, for it is he who is entrusted with the due performance of all the services of the temple, and he too assists at the solemn ceremony of censing the crystal altar of the Sun, as I have already shown. He is also the custodian of the awful Fountain of Rejuvenation, though his guardianship is shared by other members of the inner ring. One day, finding the venerable head of the council in an unusually expansive mood, I ventured to question him openly upon the properties of this sacred well, this Zem-Zem of Meleagrian un-faith. He replied that its medicated waters, though highly beneficial to a mortal born of the Earth, would prove fatal to any Meleagrian rash enough to attempt their use. Moreover, he added that should anyone plunge alone and unattended into this well, the terrific suction of the current beneath would infallibly drag the body under, never to reappear. I then questioned him if many such accidents had ever occurred, whereupon he answered dryly that none had happened in his own experience; which equivocal reply I interpreted as admitting that fatal incidents in the past were by no means unknown. I then twitted him jokingly for not renewing his own youth, of course with all proper precautions, in the fountain of his charge, to which he replied with considerable asperity and horror, using the most solemn Meleagrian form of denial: "May the God perish first and the Sun be darkened!" After this vigorous negation he took his departure with some abruptness, nor could I ever entice him to speak again of the fountain.

I fully realise that my account of the hierarchy or governing class of Meleager is both incomplete and unsatisfactory, but I must plead again the many difficulties of obtaining information which I have already mentioned. In fact, it is from two sources only that I can derive any details whatever, these being my own limited opportunities of observation and discovery and the rare statements that the Arch-priest lets fall from time to time, for I am not on confidential terms with any other member of the council. From Hiridia and my friends of the nobility I can gather absolutely nothing, for the simple reason that their own ignorance of the private affairs of their ruling caste is even greater than mine. Indeed, the marvel is that I have been able to compile even the small amount I have inscribed here, considering the obstacles in my way of acquiring knowledge. I must sum up therefore by stating that I have very little communication with that body of councillors with whom my own position and prerogative are so closely interwoven, this state of affairs being due wholly to the persistent refusal of the latter to take me into their confidence.