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In the Golden Lands, in the hill country of the south was a place where two rivers met.
This had always been a gentle and pleasant spot but it had been made much more so by
the hand of man. Despite the continental climate the local eccentricities of its surroundings
sheltered it from the harshest weather. Invariably its winter snow was warmest and its
summer shade the was coolest and this was not fortuitous. | Once there was a man who claimed he could control the climate. They, the authorities, knowing the man's reputation and after a thorough investigation, came to believed him,. Though they knew the cost of his project would be high they believed his work would eventually benefit them all. The man was angry. He climbed mountains because they were there - so he told himself - but he was used to dealing with Them. They had power and only They could sanction his project. 'Look,' he said enthusiastically. 'If we can control the climate we can increase agricultural productivity enormously!' At the time words of this type were guaranteed to produce an almost hysterical ecstasy among all types of politicians whose susceptibility was due to the excessive population that was becoming difficult to handle and expensive to feed. The man showed them a way. He established his weather control scheme in the land surrounding the confluence of two rivers. Concomitantly, on the hills and in the valleys the man and his assistants, who by now were legion, planted orchards of apple, peach, cherry orange and lemon trees. He expected to be especially proud of the latter two since they were to be planted well north of the line where such trees normally produce fruit. The people followed the progress of the man's work with pride. It confirmed their belief in the soaring superiority of man's intellect. Unfortunately and quite unknown to them this gifted man was suffering from a terrible disease, a creeping malignancy which was steadily afflicting greater and greater numbers of people. Its only symptom was a total disbelief in the sanctity of human life. Because of this disease the man deliberately planted the orchards in such a way that, while the final effect was one of great beauty the fruit was virtually impossible to harvest commercially and make a profit. As a further deterrent he planted not the latest commercial strains but age-old, low-yielding strains. He did not want his oranges to taste like tomatoes. As far as the commercial growers were concerned the man used strains which were almost wild. They refused to have anything to do with his project, considering it a scandal. The man was pleased. 'After all,' he said. 'This is only a pilot project for my weather control scheme. Anyone who wishes can wander for hours among my trees and take their pick.' The man wished to be different. He wanted to produce something beautiful and lasting. He wished to be remembered. This was his motivation but, sadly, his name was forgotten long ago. The project was successful but it was never applied elsewhere. The expense was just too great for the proven increase in productivity though many in the land who were not afflicted with the disease claimed the man had deliberately sabotaged his results. Then the world changed. Those afflicted with the man's disease wormed their way to power. They became They and all such projects were forgotten. But the place remained, a confluence of rivers set among wild orchards and in its midst that other monument to the forgotten man: his University. They called it Shining River Heaven. |
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