Page 63 of Angel of Vengeance

“You are not wrong.”

“Let us return to the case of Germany. I am particularly interested in this, because I spent many good years there studying medicine. It is a country I know well—and when I learned from your associate about Germany’s conduct in the mid-twentieth century, I could scarcely comprehend it. Germany today—I mean, in 1881—is the most advanced country on earth. It produced Bach and Beethoven, Goethe and Gauss. It fathered some of the greatest advancements in medicine, science, and mathematics the world has ever seen. And yet this country, at the very apex of so-called civilization, made this man, Hitler—and through him, perpetrated the most profound evil in all recorded history.”

“Yes.”

“Staggering. And appalling. But I’ve learned a lot more about the twentieth century, and quite frankly this summary has barely scratched the surface.” He paused. “Which leads me to an overwhelming question.”

“Which is?”

“You know very well what it is. How can you believe the human race is worth preserving?”

He waited, and after a slight but meaningful hesitation, Pendergast said, in a low voice: “I concede that, as a species, we are anything but exemplary. I assume that’s why we blame the serpent in the garden for all our faults. But we have also produced good things, beautiful things—even magnificent things.”

Leng looked at him, then flipped another page in his notebook. “I also understand from your colleague that the sole thing humans of the twenty-first century are united in doing—humans who otherwise are more divided than ever before, having learned nothing in the intervening century—is destroying the earth. All eight billion of you. Polluting the oceans, heating the planet, burning the rainforests, exhausting the mineral wealth. Your own scientists are now calling your age the Sixth Extinction.”

He stared at Pendergast, the man’s pale face now tinged by a slight flush. He might be breaking through. “You admit these things occurred and are occurring—do you not?”

“I admit it.”

“You admit the technological advances of the twentieth century pale in comparison to your descent into barbarism?”

“There is nothing exceptional about the evils of the twentieth century.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a species, we have always been bloodthirsty. The twentieth century merely gave us the technology to conduct killing on a mass scale.”

Leng clapped his hands. “You are only reinforcing my argument: this godlike technology will eventually lead the species to self-destruction. Do you agree?”

A hesitation. “It seems likely.”

“Then, if we are to destroy ourselves: shouldn’t it be done in a logical, controlled way, with the idea of starting afresh?”

“You’re speaking of the massacre of billions of people.”

“Irredeemable people.”

“There are many bad people. There are also good and even great people.”

“But most are brutal, stupid, and selfish.”

“I might point out that you, while not stupid, are one of the brutal and selfish ones.”

“I beg to disagree. What I’m doing is nothing less than providing a path to salvation for our species. I’ve always had a low opinion of humankind—but when I learned of the evils of the twentieth century, I could scarcely believe it. Good God! Now I’m certain our species—if unchecked—will not see the twenty-second century. So: instead of destroying ourselves completely, or leaving behind naked savages fighting rats and cockroaches for sustenance, I would rather see a carefully conducted cleansing that will preserve the species, which, when combined with a longer life expectancy, will yield marvelous benefits. My methods are lethal—yes. But they are necessary. I am an agent of good.”

“Good?”

“My dear nephew, how can you possibly support the status quo—the continuation of this madness? Especially given the fact that we have a chance to wipe the slate clean, start afresh.”

“We?”

“You, me…” Leng halted.

“Is this an invitation?” Pendergast asked.

“Of course. But not one issued lightly. You have proven yourself a most superior man. You are just the kind we need to rise from the ashes, phoenixlike.”

Pendergast said nothing.

---