Роберт Шеррифф: The Hopkins Manuscript

‘Gentlemen,’ began the President. ‘The majority of you have guessed the purpose of this unusual meeting. I do not wish to dramatise what I have to say, but you must know that I speak tonight by the authority of the Prime Minister who binds one and all of us, upon our honour, to the most absolute secrecy. From the outset I must make it clear that not one detail of this evening’s business must be divulged either by word of mouth, the written page, or by inference. If any member present desires not to accept these conditions I would ask him to leave the meeting now, before anything further is said.’

The President paused: there was a deathly silence: not a muscle of those hundred bodies moved. For my own part I could not have moved had I desired to. My body was paralysed, my brain was numbed by the appalling revelation that the disaster of the telescope and our observatory had become so serious that it was receiving the attention of the Prime Minister himself.

‘Thank you,’ said Professor Hartley. ‘I am glad that every member of this Society is prepared to accept the responsibility that I am bound to place upon him.’

He paused, and glanced down at his notes.

‘Some of you,’ he proceeded, ‘by reasons of your professions, are more conversant than others with the facts, or – shall I say – the rumours that have been whispered in scientific circles during the past few months, but for the sake of all present here tonight I will relate these facts from the beginning.

‘You will remember the eclipse of the sun on the 24th August 1940 – just over five years ago. You will no doubt recall to mind the amusement aroused by the Press when it was announced that the moon was three seconds late in its arrival. There were some good-natured digs at the astronomers, who were told to go away and find out where their calculations had gone wrong.

‘For several months the observatories of all nations tested their instruments and checked their calculations. In that December, at an International Congress held in Berlin, these results were compared and proved unanimous. The calculations were correct. It was not the scientists, but the moon that was wrong. In August 1940 the moon was travelling three seconds behind its time.

‘The scientists were puzzled, but not unduly disturbed. It was agreed to delay public report until further observation could be made upon the eclipse of the 12th February this year.

‘This eclipse was best observable from Mount Wilson Observatory in California, and the foremost scientists of the world gathered in conference upon this anxiously-awaited occasion. Conditions were perfect and the finest equipment in the world was available.

‘The result, gentlemen – the result beyond all regions of doubt – was that the moon was twelve seconds late. Not only was it late, but the cause – which had been suspected but hitherto unconfirmed, was definitely established.

‘Some gigantic force had disturbed the moon from the path that it had pursued from the dawn of time: it had slowed up the moon’s progress through space and forced it upon a journey towards the earth.

‘At midnight on the 12th February this year the moon had drawn nearer to the earth by 3,583 miles.’

‘The Congress remained in session for five weeks and observation was made by all assembled scientists.

‘It was ascertained that the moon was returning to the earth at the steadily increasing speed of eight miles in every twenty-four hours. It was nearer by 128 miles on the 13th February – by 136 on the 14th – by 144 on the 15th.

‘The moon, as you are aware, was normally, at its maximum, 250,000 miles from the earth. Tonight, at midnight, it is 217,500 miles away; tomorrow night it will be 470 miles nearer and each night it is drawing closer at a speed increasing by eight miles per day.

‘The Congress at Mount Wilson Observatory broke up on the 15th March. It was decided unanimously to keep its proceedings a strict secret until the governments of the world had been consulted.

‘As a great deal of public curiosity had been excited, the Congress issued the report which you may still remember: a report that announced everything to be normal and that the moon was in its correct position. It was a deliberate lie – but a lie for the sake of humanity, as I think you will all agree.

‘When the results of the Congress were placed before the responsible governments of the world the decision of the statesmen in favour of secrecy was as unanimous as that of the scientists. A conference was held at Paris upon the 3rd May this year and a definite course of action agreed upon.

‘It was recognised by all that the publication of what could only mean the destruction of the world would lead to a condition of affairs too horrible to contemplate. The number of people in the world with the strength of character to accept the news with calmness and philosophy would be in the minority, and the last months of human existence would become a welter of anarchy, debauchery and famine. It was of vital importance to keep the truth a secret until the last possible moment and only then to publish the facts by means best calculated to allay panic.

‘An International Committee of Control was established. Each government held a secret conference at which the leading men of science, politics, church and press were told the truth and bound by oath to secrecy.

‘It is calculated that the change in the moon’s course will not be discernible to the human eye until February or March of the coming year.

‘When it becomes impossible to conceal what the public will obviously discover with its naked eyes, the newspapers will take action upon lines universally agreed upon. They will announce that the apparent increase in the size of the moon is due to a phenomenon – a refraction of light that gives an illusion of greater size.

‘It will then be for the church to play its part, for by no other means can the truth be told with more hope of arousing the courage and assuring the calmness necessary to save the world from agony.’

‘That, gentlemen, is all. I realise that those who are hearing these facts for the first time must feel as I did a week ago when I heard them from the President of the Royal Society. I wondered whether I were in a nightmare or whether I had lost my senses. I have tried to place the truth before you plainly – but I realise that words are incongruous – an absurd little jumble of sounds in the face of the facts which they have tried to explain.

‘It is recognised that the time has now come to bring all men of standing and knowledge in the scientific world within this “conspiracy of silence”. It is your duty not only to keep these facts secret to yourselves: if rumour gets abroad it is your duty to deny it. You are men whose word upon such matters will be believed and even if you are forced to lie, you will do so as part of your duty to preserve the peace and happiness of the world to the last possible moment.

‘When my own courage began to fail me upon first hearing the news, I regained it through the knowledge that I was a privileged man – one of an infinite few to be trusted as you are tonight.

‘I am afraid it sounds a little incongruous to revert after this to normal procedure, but the meeting is now open to questions, and I shall answer them to the best of my ability.’

The President was silent. He glanced for a moment, half questioningly, at the audience, then sipped from the glass of water beside him and took his seat in the big armchair behind the speaker’s table.

The reader can well imagine how my surprise at the President’s first words had gradually changed to unspeakable relief as he had proceeded. Slowly it dawned upon me that this meeting had nothing whatever to do with the telescope. The telescope was not even mentioned, so apparently everything was going on all right. There was every hope now that the Committee had surmounted its financial difficulties. Instead of being a ruined man I would be, after all my fears – the hero – the man whose fighting speech had turned the day! In my fevered imagination I had already given up my small fortune and all my personal property as lost by a reckless promise, and now in one glorious moment of relief it was all returned to me! – my beloved home on the Hampshire hills – my poultry – my careful investments – everything!