“What a pity I did not know that before.”
“Why a pity?”
“Oh, just so. Do not forget that I am come from another planet and am only now getting acquainted with man. So what shall we do with this—planet—Magnus?”
He laughed again:
“You are a strange fellow, Wondergood! With this planet? We will give it a little holiday. But enough jesting. I do not like it!” He frowned angrily and looked at me sternly, like an old professor...the manner of this gentleman was not distinguished by flippancy. When it seemed to him that I had grown sufficiently serious he shook his head in approval and asked: “Do you know, Wondergood, that the whole of Europe is now in a very uneasy state?”
“War?”
“Possibly war. Everybody is secretly expecting it. But war precedes the belief in the kingdom of miracles. You understand: we have lived too long in simple faith in the multiplication table, we are tired of the multiplication table, we are filled with ennui and anxiety on this straight road whose mire is lost in infinity. Just now all of us are demanding some miracle and soon the day will come when we will demand the miracle immediately! It is not I alone who wants an experiment on a large scale —the whole world is preparing it...ah, Wondergood, in truth, life would not be worth the candle if it were not for these highly interesting moments! Highly interesting!” He greedily rubbed his hands.
“You are pleased?”
“As a chemist, I am in ecstasy. My shells are already loaded, without being themselves conscious of the fact, but they will know it well enough when I apply the torch. Can you imagine the sight when my dynamite will begin to explode, its consciousness, its will, its eyes directed straight upon its goal?”
“And blood? Perhaps my reminder is out of place but I remember an occasion when you spoke of blood with much excitement.”