- «The rest of the story, my friends, makes a sole contest
with now day's circumstances, even if it is made of a long and twisted thread.
I left soon after Ireland, where nothing more held me back, and I returned
again to my studies, once more in the United States of America, eager to
undertake my studies again.
At the beginning I didn't have a precise plan. I threw myself in the direction
which had been showed to me by the two American researchers who had succeeded
isolating the DNA, subject in which I was already however enough advanced,
connecting such new events to my former studies on ‘nouchefalon ', always maintaining
them to a level of theoretical study.
In those same years, another big frontier of knowledge was opening to human
science: the Artificial Intelligence! At first vaguely, then with increasing insistence
and precision, the creation of mechanical machines, prognosticated able to
think, such intelligent to replace men in the most complexes and difficult
duties advanced in the programs of science and industry.
In that field my theoretical studies would have been aimed in order to find
practice application. For my mind, even if tired and exploited, it was not
difficult to acquire that new ulterior branches on science. It was even easier
for me than for other researchers, because my study didn't know neither
distractions, nor conditionings of any kind.
It was a new radiant youth which drove me in that marvelous meander, to the
discovery of unexpected, admirable horizons. I can't certainly explain to you,
here, in a few words, all the passages of my complex program, that foresaw new
tests and new studies. You must know however that I had conceived to build a
machine, intelligent and perfect, able not only to analyze, to deduce, to
synthesize; what would have set it, however, higher than the most actual and advanced
generations of computers, but also able to reproduce living beings to itself
alike. I prompted a technique of laboratory able to allow the endless
duplication of the DNA.
Then, admitting and developing these duplicates of cell, I would have been possible
to procreate and to produce the perfect, infallible, invincible masters of the
future world, destined to put an end to every war and every violence in our
sick planet. And when in this I had succeeded, I would have into my hands the
opening key of the door that conducts to a New History of Manhood on Earth!.»
As a matter of
fact the story of Mr Winningoes was almost at the end. Or it seemed to be so,
at least at that moment.
He had finished his discourse, assuming that thrilling, prophetic attitude, as
he were a priest, or a messiah, a leader for the humanity in need to be saved
by him.
Once more he had stopped with his forefinger, thin and long, pointed out somewhere
in the Universe, may be addressing the remote origin of his supreme agents, stiffening
in the whole person, with his eyes like popping out of his head, immovable as a
statue.
He recovered quite soon from his sudden, provisional coma and repurchased the
mobility of the eyes and the limbs. He took a look around, like a man coming from
another world who wants to understand the place where an invisible spatial ship
had let him shipwrecked.
I recalled in to my mind, just then, as a flash-back, an old companion of my
infant games who suffered of epilepsy. At times, in the very middle of the
action, suddenly he was caught by a crisis’s peak. He stared then fixed, with
an horrid expression in his face, for some endless seconds.
And when he recovered himself and took back the game exactly from where he had
left, as if nothing had happened.
Or this strange attitude had something to do on what
had discovered in his garden just few hours ago?
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