CHAPTER I

The Passing of a Kingdom

Since the comparatively recent resumé of the ancient order of
agriculture I, Nathano, have been asked to set down the extraordinary
events of the past two thousand years, at the beginning of which time
the supremacy of man, chief of the mammals, threatened to come to an
untimely end.

Ever since the dawn of life upon this globe, life, which it seemed
had crept from the slime of the sea, only two great types had been
the rulers; the reptiles and the mammals. The former held undisputed
sway for eons, but gave way eventually before the smaller, but
intellectually superior mammals. Man himself, the supreme example of
the ability of life to govern and control inanimate matter, was
master of the world with apparently none to dispute his right. Yet,
so blinded was he with pride over the continued exercise of his power
on Earth over other lower types of mammals and the nearly extinct
reptiles, that he failed to notice the slow but steady rise of
another branch of life, different from his own; smaller, it is true,
but no smaller than he had been in comparison with the mighty
reptilian monsters that roamed the swamps in Mesozoic times.

These new enemies of man, though seldom attacking him personally,
threatened his downfall by destroying his chief means of sustenance,
so that by the close of the twentieth century, strange and daring
projects were laid before the various governments of the world with
an idea of fighting man’s insect enemies to the finish. These pests
were growing in size, multiplying so rapidly and destroying so much
vegetation, that eventually no plants would be left to sustain human
life. Humanity suddenly woke to the realization that it might suffer
the fate of the nearly extinct reptiles. Would mankind be able to
prevent the encroachment of the insects? And at last man _knew_ that
unless drastic measures were taken _at once_, a third great class of
life was on the brink of terrestrial sovereignty.

Of course no great changes in development come suddenly. Slow
evolutionary progress had brought us up to the point, where, with the
application of outside pressure, we were ready to handle a situation,
that, a century before, would have overwhelmed us.

I reproduce here in part a lecture delivered by a great American
scientist, a talk which, sent by radio throughout the world, changed
the destiny of mankind: but whether for good or for evil I will leave
you to judge at the conclusion of this story.

“Only in comparatively recent times has man succeeded in conquering
natural enemies; flood, storm, inclemency of climate, distance, and
now we face an encroaching menace to the whole of humanity. Have we
learned more and more of truth and of the laws that control matter
only to succumb to the first real danger that threatens us with
extermination? Surely, no matter what the cost, you will rally to
the solution of our problem, and I believe, friends, that I have
discovered the answer to the enigma.

“I know that many of you, like my friend Professor Fair, will believe
my ideas too extreme, but I am convinced that unless you are willing
to put behind you those notions which are old and not utilitarian,
you cannot hope to cope with the present situation.

“Already, in the past few decades, you have realized the utter
futility of encumbering yourselves with superfluous possessions that
had no useful virtue, but which, for various sentimental reasons, you
continued to hoard, thus lessening the degree of your life’s
efficiency by using for it time and attention that should have been
applied to the practical work of life’s accomplishments. You have
given these things up slowly, but I am now going to ask you to
relinquish the rest of them _quickly_; everything that interferes in
any way with the immediate disposal of our enemies, the insects.”

At this point, it seems that my worthy ancestor, Professor Fair,
objected to the scientist’s words, asserting that efficiency at the
expense of some of the sentimental virtues was undesirable and not
conducive to happiness, the real goal of man. The scientist, in his
turn, argued that happiness was available only through a perfect
adaptability to one’s environment, and that efficiency _sans_ love,
mercy and the softer sentiments was the short cut to human bliss.

It took a number of years for the scientist to put over his scheme of
salvation, but in the end he succeeded, not so much from the
persuasiveness of his words, as because prompt action of some sort
was necessary. There was not enough food to feed the people of the
earth. Fruit and vegetables were becoming a thing of the past. Too
much protein food in the form of meat and fish was injuring the race,
and at last the people realized that, for fruits and vegetables, or
their nutritive equivalent, they must turn from the field to the
laboratory: from the farmer to the chemist. Synthetic food was the
solution to the problem. There was no longer any use in planting and
caring for food stuffs destined to become the nourishment of man’s
most deadly enemy.

The last planting took place in 2900, but there was no harvest, the
voracious insects took every green shoot as soon as it appeared, and
even trees, that had previously withstood the attacks of the huge
insects, were by this time, stripped of every vestige of greenery.

The vegetable world suddenly ceased to exist. Over the barren plains
which had been gradually filling with vast cities, man-made fires
brought devastation to every living bit of greenery, so that in all
the world there was no food for the insect pests.