“Really!” said the vicar.
“If Mr. Murdwell with the help of his committee of Allied scientists can solve the problem of restating his formula in terms of atomic energy, the near future will be full of perplexity for this planet.”
“Do I understand,” said the vicar, drawing at his cigar, “that you are trying some terrible experiment?”
“You may take it that it is so. And we are already causing sleepless nights in certain quarters. The next few years may see warfare of a very different kind.”
“But surely,” said the vicar, “every law, human and divine, forbids further diabolism?”
“Nothing is forbidden to science. It works miracles. And it is merely at the threshold of its power.”
“Yet, assuming, Mr. Murdwell,” said the vicar solemnly, “that your theory is correct and that you are able to do all this, what do you suppose will be the future of the human race?”
Mr. Murdwell did not answer the question at once. When answer he did, it was in a voice of much gravity. “There we come up against something that won’t bear looking at. Strictly speaking, the human race has no future. Unless another spirit comes into the world the human race is doomed.”
“Undoubtedly,” said the vicar.
“Science can destroy organic life quicker than nature can replace it. And what it does now is very little compared to what it may do a few years hence.”