Torch in the Night, Chapter One, Part Two

Begin with the beginning.

"I invented this cure. Do you wish to know why? I invented this cure, not because I wished to help the suffering, but because I wished to defeat the virus. I invented it because I did not choose to stand by and watch a virus — which isn't even a proper life form — kill those who claim to be human beings, the highest life form on the planet. Now, to qualify as a human being one must possess the single characteristic of a human being: a reasoning mind. Most of you are at best half-human, as you may have two arms and two legs and two eyes — but don't choose to think. Well, I chose to side with you anyway.

"You wonder why a thoroughly selfish man would come up with such a cure — and not an altruist? Well, it's only logical. Only a man who lives for himself, and faces nature alone, can succeed at any creative venture. A man who lives of, by, and for others will always fail. How would an other-directed fool be able to do any research? Some of you would snivel to him, 'We want a cure without side effects.' Some of you would snivel to him, 'We want a cure that contains no particles of pigs, for our faith forbids it.' Some of you would snivel to him, 'We want a cure that contains no particles of cows, for our faith forbids it.' Some of you would snivel to him, 'We want a cure that contains no globs of cells, for our faith forbids it.' Some of you would snivel to him, 'We want a cure gratis.' Such a fool would listen to you — and attempt to find a cure that harms no one, contains nothing, and costs nothing. Good luck."

He looked at an American news crew. "When you weren't manufacturing slanted news, you went partying — and mocked me for working late. You ruined your health drinking, smoking, and having unprotected sex. You expect me to cure you — for free?"

He looked at some silver spoon socialists. "You who voted for all of us to pay higher taxes, you who wanted part of my income confiscated to be wasted on inefficient government-funded research projects, you expect me to cure you — for free?"

He looked at some African diplomats sporting the traditional headgear of their tribes. "You witch doctors who preach that AIDS can be cured by raping a virgin, you expect me to cure you — for free?"

He looked at a diplomat from another African state. "You who claim that AIDS doesn't even exist, you expect me to cure you — for free?"

He looked at the papal legate. "You who declare that condoms are sinful, you expect me to cure your followers — for free?"

He looked at Sister Sally of the Order of the Rotting Sores of Calcutta. "You priests declared that globs of cells have a right to life, but man has not. You bribed politicians to make my work impossible. You expect me to cure your followers — for free?"

He looked over the collective of world government diplomats. "You wriggling worms. You scabious savages. You should have come to this country, your savage headgear in hand, begging us to show you how to establish good government and live productively by yourselves. Instead, you slithered up the shores of my country, the noblest country in the world, and brazenly claimed it were our duty to share with you the property we produced. You who never cared to learn how to produce property. You who only know how to destroy and to murder.

"This drug is the product of my mind. Without me, without my work, it would not exist. As the creator of this medicine, it is my right to dispose of it in any way I wish. Need is not a claim. Your need is no claim on my life, no claim to enslave me, no claim to loot my property, the product of my creative work. My ability to create does not put any duty on me to give my creation to those who wish to enslave me. It is not for you to take my creation by force and decide what to do with it. Looters, moochers, rotters, perverts, thieves, slave drivers, murderers of the world — delegates to the world government — listen carefully: You have no right to steal from me, to take the product of my work on any other terms than those at which I am willing to sell.

"I do not feel your pain. I am not caring. I do not care about you. I do not care about your suffering. As far as I am concerned, you can suffer till the cows come home. I only care for myself and for those who deserve my friendship. To trade with me, you have to offer me values — not cries of pain or threats of violence. These values can be as much as a billion dollars in gold or as little as a thank you. But it has got to be some value. I might even have given you the cure more or less for free. But now, all bets are off — I do not present any gifts to thieves. I do not collaborate with cannibals who want to eat me." Towne spoke calmly and coldly, his dark, clean-shaven face hard with contempt and disgust for the creatures making up the majority of the audience. "Now listen, looters: I swear that as long as the world government exists, I will not contribute any values to you. If you cry that you are dying — die! I will not delay your death by permitting you to cannibalize me." He pointed at his forehead. "The only copy of the formula left is up here now. Try and loot this!"

Towne left the eerie silence of the conference room, left the world government complex, walked west along Forty-second Street, back to his laboratory — from the realm of the looter to the realm of reason. Parker high-fived Traynor, both men grinning in triumph. Ngdbdele still stood frozen, gaping. The world was spinning around him; blood was rushing in his ears. How dared that man refuse to serve his brothers? Ngdbdele was a deeply religious man. He had dabbled in the witch doctoring of his native country, then in Islam, and finally, Christianity. All religions agreed that a man should be eager to sacrifice himself to men, without thinking of his own good. No one knew why that should be so, nor did Ngdbdele care to know. It seemed to be very charming that all other religions he had sampled agreed with his native communitarianism. If all religious faiths of the world agreed, they could not be wrong, or could they? Even the socialists and communists, whom he admired for their secular altruism, had stuck to the Christian morality of self-sacrifice, though they had kicked the gods out of their worldview. But he could not understand those Americans. He did not understand that stuff about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Was not America supposed to be a Christian country?

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