III

Dr. Holdman Stedding wavered in his mind. Ought he to let this talk run on or close down on it forthwith?

At least half the disordered minds of the present time, he reflected, develop delusions about radiations. That kind of fancy has largely replaced those spiritual visions and inner voices which supplied the demented with crazy interpretations of their perplexities in the past. It was dangerous stuff, and the mind of Davis, to say the least of it, was very delicately poised. And yet there was something faintly plausible—a sort of fairy–tale plausibility—about this idea that caught the unprofessional elements of the doctor's imagination. He went on taking the idea seriously.

'What sort of confirmation is possible?' he considered.

'That is where the puzzle comes in. That is why I am consulting you.'

'You think that if one attempted some sort of examination of human births, past and present—it would of course be very hard to get any adequate records about this sort of thing—one might be able to detect—?'

'That we are being played upon.'

'But you don't believe—?'

'Not a bit of it. Oh, no! I didn't come here to be certified. I am advancing a certain hypothesis. I am being purely scientific in my method. I advance a provisional theory that a certain thing is going on. And, mind you, if anything of the sort is going on, it is of great—of supreme—importance to our race. And having made our trial assumption, we try and work out what would be some of the logical consequences of this process of extra–terrestrial influence, if my theory proves to hold good. Is it possible to detect non–human characteristics, superhuman characteristics perhaps, in some of the children born nowadays, and are these non–human characteristics on the increase? Are there people—what shall I call them?—fey people about? People as sane as you and I and yet strange? We can try them with special intelligence tests perhaps. We can go into the reports of educational institutions. So far I have not planned the lay–out of this investigation. It is all quite new in my mind. But isn't it a legitimate inquiry? I ask you.'

'You will need genius for that lay–out.'

'Every original research needs that. But my theory I think is plain. My theory is that new influences are being brought to bear on human reproduction. For the purposes of our research I call the source of these influences—Martians. If my suspicions are confirmed, these Martians—for purposes at which we can only guess—are thrusting mutations upon us. They are planning human mutations. So that presently our very children may not prove to be our own!'

As Mr. Davis said these last words, a full realization of the indiscretion of this talk dawned upon Dr. Holdman Stedding.

'But that is going too far!' he cried. 'That is going much too far. We are talking—we are amusing ourselves—with pseudo–scientific nonsense.'

Mr. Davis perceived quite clearly whal was in his interlocutor's mind. 'It is too late, Doctor, to say that to me. This notion has bitten me. I mean to devote myself to this investigation; I feel called to it; and I want you to interest yourself in it also. If there is one chance in a million of this suspicion being true, then it demands attention. Even on a chance so bare as that we ought to get watchers and searchers, planetary coast–guards, so to speak, at work. We have to specify and measure and determine the nature of this inflow and herd it back upon itself before it is too late.'

'H'm,' said Dr. Holdman Stedding, regarding his queer visitor with an expression of infinite perplexity.

'I am under no delusions,' said Mr. Davis. 'I agree I am talking about something almost absolutely improbable. Let me make it clear to you that I am perfectly clear upon that. I am skirting the giddy edge of utter impossibility. Well and good. But sometimes there are intuitions. How many discoveries have flashed forth at first as the wildest of surmises? It may be circumstances have conspired to point my mind in a certain direction. Never mind about that. I myself do not feel that this is an impossibility. Just simply that—not an absolute impossibility. No more. That is where I stand.'