The Anarchistic Colossus - A. E. Van Vogt, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 2

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* * * *
 The Anarchistic
Colossus
A. E. van Vogt
Scanned & Proofed By MadMaxAU
* * * *
 introduction
In this novel I took it for granted that the basic nature of, particularly, the
human male, as it has been observed from ancient times, is not about to
alter for the better. And so, my question was not: how much perfection may
we anticipate from human beings in the future? It was: what kind of
technology would be required to maintain a system of anarchism among all
those misbehaving human beings around us? No government. No police.
Nobody minding the store. The entire operation would, of course, have to
be automatic.
Surely - you say - science fiction, which all too often tends to create
its own facts to bolster the reality of a story premise, has finally gone too
far. Meaning, even to pose such a question is ridiculous. Human beings are
incorrigible in their endless dangerous madness.
I agree. That’s exactly what I said. Now, how can we have an
anarchistic society in spite of that madness?
Well!
As I write this, I have before me a copy of a patent issued several
years ago to a major west coast aircraft corporation. In it the Kirlian
photography technology is combined with a relay system, whereby the
following occurs: The camera focuses. The person photographed - an
actor - pretends anger. His realistic evocation of the emotion alters the
Kirlian pattern. Which triggers a relay. Across the building, in another room,
a second relay shuts off (or turns on) a large machine.
Two thoughts here as an aside. First: all too often when science
fiction writers of 1977 predict the future, they come up with something that
was invented in 1967. We have a little bit of that here. The second aside:
recently, I read that a group of American scientists have belatedly proved
that the Kirlian Effect cannot be achieved without the aid of moisture - and
therefore it is not what was claimed. I can only look at my copy of the
foregoing-described patent - and shake my head over their disproof.
The patent establishes that a machine can be controlled by a
photographed human emotion. I believe that, for story purposes, I am
entitled to deduce that if one emotion - anger - can be used for one
purpose, then a spectrum of other emotions could, by way of
 microprocessors - tiny computers - perform a large number of co-ordinated
actions.
We may therefore visualize a unit, complete with its own tiny
computer and its Kirlian sensors, plus a laser penalty system (which last
also constitutes the unit’s own defence system). Visualize this additionally
multiplied by one or more billion duplicates of each other, all self-sustaining
but interconnected, and, of course, scattered all over the planet. At which
point you have the condition on earth when my story opens.
… The alien invaders looked over this ideal society. And deduced
that anarchistic man could not defend his planet.
A. E. van Vogt
* * * *
 one
It is not easy for some one or some thing in a distant (multi-light-years
away) part of the universe to watch a single episode of human existence on
earth. But the problems of such a spy operation are within the frame of
physics. And so that somebody -who possessed that high a level of
scientific achievement, and was sufficiently motivated to spend the time
and the energy - had his awareness focused just above human head level.
Meaning just over six feet above the ground.
What was visible seemed scarcely worth the effort. A tree-lined
residential street of a large city. Night. The only mobile life form in sight was
a man strolling along on the sidewalk. He was coming
towards
the point of
focus. So it would almost seem as if he were the object of the remote
being’s interest.
The man coming along the street could have been an earth scientist,
or some other professional type. He seemed about forty earth years old,
and had a middle-class appearance - that is, he was dressed in a suit, and
was clean-shaven. He looked intelligent.
Nothing more was visible.
But additional developments were not long in coming.
As the night stroller came full under the street light, there was an
unexpected movement in the hedge beside the sidewalk. It was a tiny
rustling sound of leaves and boughs scraping against each other.
The next instant a young man burst forth from the darkness of the
hedge. Without a word, he launched himself at the older man. The victim
had half-turned at the sound. But he was obviously not prepared for
violence. Obviously, because the first rush of the assailant caught him and
nearly knocked him over. And then he was being struck with fists that did
not hold back, and shoved even harder.
He fell. And that was the purpose. Down on top of him, with knees into
the victim’s groin, plunged the assailant. The attacker’s hand reached inside
his own jacket. A syringe flashed, as the hand came into the open. The
young man - for that was what he was - thrust it downwards. He was clearly
and without pause intending to inject something into the body of the man
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