Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 232 The Gears of the Empire
Silence is a kind of wisdom, or relief, or silent resistance, or it may be shocking proof.
In fact, it was just a phone call to apply for a newspaper headline. This is not too unusual for the editor-in-chief of the Holy Journal. The principle that the Holy Journal has always adhered to is "truth", but there is only one newspaper and only one headline. , so sometimes it is normal to make some plans and operations for this position.
However, the content of the headline report caused silence to fall for a moment. The wind blew through the hall, not even lifting the clothes of the people present, but it seemed so noisy.
The Secretary-General of External Affairs of the School of Life Sciences lowered his eyebrows and looked at the wood grain on the table in front of him, as if he wanted to see how many growth rings this piece of wood had.
A liaison officer of the government army was sitting upright and drinking tea. He had been drinking this cup of tea for almost 15 minutes, but the water in it did not decrease at all.
No one seemed to want to be the first to speak at this time.
Not speaking does not mean that you don't care, but you just wait and see what happens.
But there are always people who can't sit still, and for them, this silence seems so harsh and uncomfortable.
Finally, the dean of the Imperial Medical College smiled and said gently: "It seems that some of the younger generation have some paranoid longing for the results demonstrated a few months ago. It is understandable, after all, Professor Darwin is the leader of this academic field. Or, in his later years, he passed away because of a small mistake of his own. Naturally, his students would not easily accept this fact.
This kind of respect for predecessors and persistence in science is indeed an extremely valuable quality.
But within three months, two consecutive demonstrations of experimental results were held. Isn’t it a bit too frequent? "
The dean of the medical school was very careful in what he said, but in the end he showed some opposition.
"Frequently?" At this moment, the secretary-general who had been looking at the growth rings suddenly pushed up his glasses: "With results, it is natural to show the world that the empire is a whole. Do we have to hide any good things to ourselves? Encouraged? If possible, I even hope that this kind of scientific research progress can be demonstrated as frequently as possible!"
The dean received the rebuttal and still smiled kindly: "I understand your position. Working for the Academy of Life Sciences, naturally you need to say something for the Academy, but the last time you presented your results was not so satisfactory. This time How long has passed, I want to say, if it is just some small improvements, then there should be no need to mobilize so much, and it also takes up the headline of a holy journal, isn't it a bit..."
He didn't say the word "making a fuss out of a molehill" because at this point, his words were interrupted by the editor-in-chief's somewhat excited speech: "Your Excellency, dean, this is not a small change. What the other party meant...the experiment was successful."
"They also said the test was successful last time."
"The last experiment was a success!" The secretary-general retorted calmly again: "The experiment failed. Dean Darwin fell into a struggle for the position of deputy dean and eventually died in his own experiment. You didn't read the report in the newspaper So in the past few months, some people have been suspecting that the failure of this experiment was caused by someone deliberately obstructing it."
"Haha, I never knew about these rumors. I'm quite busy, so I only read absolutely authoritative newspapers like the Holy Journal. In fact, you should also know that the eye-catching information in those third-rate tabloids is not useful to most people. For people, it’s just some words to pass the time.”
A sense of tension gradually rose. In fact, at this kind of meeting, it was a bit nonsense to mention some third-rate reports that were promoted without verification. However, the Secretary-General naturally mentioned it in front of everyone. When it came to the death of Dean Darwin, the failure of that experiment was mentioned.
However, even if these words sound like they are just unsubstantiated nonsense, once they are spoken, they will reach the ears of everyone present. As for the authenticity of these questions, it all depends on everyone. Different understanding.
"Okay."
Finally, Elder Myers' feeble voice rang out. In fact, he should have stopped this kind of political discussion like children quarreling, but he seemed to be half a beat too slow to respond. He waited until everyone had finished talking. Finally he said:
"Whether this information can make the headlines is a matter for other newspapers, so what's the use of you arguing about it.
Moreover, the display of results is not kidnapping. You have to go. If someone wants to go, then go. If you don’t want to go, don’t go. If you are noisy here, can it affect where others’ legs go? "
This kind of theory like that of an old man on the street made the place fall into silence once again.
And in this silence, Elder Miles said extremely calmly:
"I just hope that whether it is the potion studied before or the experiment that can control wild demons just now, their original intention is the same, which is to have a better future for the empire.
Not because of the competition for power.
Or use it all as rights or inheritance capital.
I know these are special times, so please don’t let these beautiful things get too much dust.
Although the Presbyterian House is a group of old and dim-eyed guys, there are still a few old stubborns. Sometimes, if they decide that something is objectionable, they can put a knife to their necks and they won't do anything. He changed his tune. "
After saying this, Elder Miles closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, as if he had said too many words today:
"Okay, that's it for my speech on behalf of the Presbytery. You can continue talking about yours. I have to go back and take a nap."
After saying that, he stood up slowly and walked out of the hall at an even slower pace.
The surrounding wind seems to be stronger, bringing out some of the unique sand and dust of the ancient Roman city, beating on people's bodies, like bullets that have been shrunk countless times, crackling, flying around the venue, but There was no sound of gunfire, and no sight of flesh and blood.
That day, night fell, and there were some clouds in the sky, as if a rain had been held back, making the dry city show a rare hint of moisture.
In a simple building, there was only the faint hum of medical machinery. Some needles hung down from the infusion pipes on the ceiling, and then pierced the back of a haggard old man. Some needles had rotating threads. It rotated quickly and silently, drilling into the skin and spine, and then injected the medicine into the old man's spine.
This is undoubtedly unbearable pain for ordinary people, but the old man remained silent during the entire process, and occasionally there were some unnoticeable moans in his throat, which meant that he was also enduring this cruel torture with difficulty.
Finally, the gentle buzzing stopped, and the old man exhaled a long breath, feeling the interaction of various medicines in his body, as well as the severe muscle pain and stomach cramps caused by long-term infusion of medicines. He could only Use every breath to protect yourself. At least you can still feel the pain. At least you are still alive.
"Zi~Zi~Zi~"
There was some noise coming from the speakers, and then:
"The controlled experiment on wild demons has announced to the outside world that it is about to conduct its second results display. This news has been confirmed by the headquarters of the Holy Journal. It is expected that the headlines and half of the second page will be used to report this event tomorrow."
It was still that voice. It seemed that ever since Emperor Augustine had to stay in this room every day and use a life support device to extend his remaining life, all his contacts with the outside world were through this voice. At this time, that voice The voice faced the greatest emperor in the history of the empire. He did not use honorifics, and there was no red tape between ministers and emperors. He just said the most important information at this time straight to the point.
"."
There was still silence in the room. The old man did not speak, but closed his eyes. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows meant that he was still suffering from the side effects of the medicine at this time.
After a long time like this, the discomfort in the withered body finally eased, and the old man slowly opened his eyes.
"From today on, there is no need to report any information to me. The inheritance ceremony is about to begin. I need enough time to conserve my energy." Emperor Augustine said calmly.
"Yes." The voice responded, but hesitated for a moment: "What about the headlines in tomorrow's Holy Journal?"
"Nothing needs to be done."
"No action.?" This time, the voice on the other side of the phone seemed very confused.
The owner of the voice must be a woman. She sounds relatively young, maybe only in her twenties. Compared with Emperor Augustine, this age is almost three or even four generations different.
This decades-long historical gap will definitely create a huge generation gap between the two sides.
However, Emperor Augustine seemed to have always trusted the owner of this voice. Even for so many years, every word he said was spoken through the other person's mouth.
At this time, he obviously felt the other party's confusion, and he happened to be in a very good mood today, so for the first time, he explained with a smile:
"This world is rotating, just like a steam engine. It is a whole. Even though I am the emperor of this empire, in fact, I am just a gear in the rotation of this world."
"I don't quite understand," the person on the other end of the speaker whispered back.
"Half a year ago, I said that I wanted to kill the Holy Son of the Holy See. You thought it was ridiculous at the time. But this thing really happened. Do you think that just because of my personal will, those airships were destroyed? Can you fly high above London and then fall downwards without caring about it?”
Emperor Augustine was lying on the special hospital bed and said with a smile:
"Haha, of course it's impossible. After all, I'm just an ordinary old man. If I catch a slight cold or have a stomachache, I'm likely to die. I can't even get out of this room.
It is useless for me alone to want the Holy Son of the Holy See to die.
The occurrence of all this only shows that besides me, there are countless wills that want the Holy Son to die. The tacit understanding of countless people and the intertwined operation of each other can make this event happen.
In the same way, I have been sitting in this position for 60 years. I am still the emperor and I am still not dead.
This proves that there are many wills that recognize me as the emperor, and I should not die.
Then, at this moment, some will must appear to solve these side problems.
The so-called controllable experiment on wild demons is impossible to succeed because it hinders the normal operation of the empire's machine. Although I don't know what will happen yet, I can guarantee that there will always be a force to stop it.
The empire can never change because of a single idea.
That’s why Professor Darwin died; that’s why the Pope fell ill and left everything to a young boy; that’s why the old man who could destroy the social structure has been standing on the river embankment in his hometown, just watching every day Watch the sun rise."
Emperor Augustine spoke plainly, looking at the bare ceiling with his gray eyes, seemingly lost in some distant memories, but for the person on the other side of the phone, his explanation just made him more confused.
Fortunately, the girl who sent the message didn't care about this. She was always concerned about the old man's health and a knot in her heart that she could never forget.
"But those airships caused the deaths of 20,000 people."
She knew that it was inappropriate to say this at this time, but she still spoke, and her voice was transmitted through the speaker into the sterile room, which seemed a bit harsh.
On the hospital bed, the smile on the old man's face gradually dissipated and became calm and calm.
"The most important thing for a race is the stability of the social structure, not how many people live or die. If the lives of some people can really be exchanged for longer-term stability, then the deaths of these people are of great value.
In fact, to a certain extent, the people who died in that disaster sacrificed their lives for the empire.
They are heroes just like the soldiers on the battlefield."
After saying this, the old man slowly exhaled, then closed his eyes, and with a tired voice, told the person on the other end of the phone that he was tired and that the conversation would end here.
As a result, the call was hung up, and the whole room fell into silence again.
Just like in that disaster that fell from the sky, the flames and wails resounded all night, and in the early morning of the next day, they could only return to silence. The smoke was silent, the blood was silent, and the souls of the dead never said that they wanted to Not wanting to become heroes, they can only stare silently, angrily, across the distance between life and death, waiting for the day when their voices can be transmitted to the world through some channel, and send out the final words to the gears of a certain empire. A powerful indictment.
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