Richards ruled against it. “God might have rested on the seventh day,” he said, “but He saw everything that He had made and beheld that it was good. The Joint Planning Subcommittee can hardly make such a claim.”

For example, health care was one key field that had not yet been addressed. Medical groups had been working since the very first days of crisis, but it was important that the subcommittee formally endorse these activities and provide necessary support. The health care community consisted of doctors and other medical professionals, both Inlanders and Outlanders, numbering one hundred twenty. They had established a hospital center in Ulundi, and clinics in several other small population centers, as well as Engineering Village. The assembled pool of talent was impressive by any stan dard; but the shortage of equipment and drugs was worrisome.

In the first days after the Event, nobody gave much thought to the question of Pharmaceuticals. There were some medical supplies that had been salvaged from the ship and from a Ulundi hospital as well. And since, in recent years, most drugs had been prepared by chemical synthesis, and since the Engineering Village community included some of the world’s greatest chemical engineers, as well as several professional chemists and even a couple of pharmaceutical scientists, it seemed that the situation could be dealt with satisfactorily. But when the experts reported that it would probably take at least three years to establish pharmaceutical factories, and that the available supply of drugs would not last nearly that long, the Joint Planning Subcommittee suddenly had an emergency on its hands. As a first measure, the medical people agreed to tighten their controls even more than they already had, only dispensing medication in the most critical situations. At the same time, a program was put into effect to produce, on an urgent basis, three items that were considered essential: an antiseptic, an antibiotic, and an anesthetic.

The antiseptic problem was readily solved with ethyl alcohol—ethanol, or grain alcohol, as it is generally called. While making fuel, the chemical engineers could at the same time be making a germicide. The process is simple: boil corn in water, and after adding sprouted barley for malt, let the solution ferment. Concentration of alcohol in the liquid can be increased by distillation.

For an antibiotic, the most quickly attainable product was the first and most famous: penicillin. The chemists—like Alexander Fleming so many years ago—cultivated some awful-looking stuff that they call mold, and from this they proposed to secure the precious curative.

As for anesthetic, it turned out that there was throughout the Ulundi Circle a bumper crop of coca leaves, marijuana, and even opium poppies, to answer this need. There were ample amounts of cocaine from the coca, hashish from the marijuana, heroin and morphine from the poppies, plus every other conceivable derivative to be gleaned from these magical plants. The requirements of the doctors were met, and needless to say, many other purposes were served as well.

The topic of drug use was addressed once at a meeting of the Coordinating Committee and the decision was to do nothing—nothing, that is, other than for the medical people and social workers to provide counseling when and where it seemed warranted. The almost unanimous view was that, while the community was struggling to survive, it could not afford to expend energy on policing behavior that was not manifestly harmful to the group. In fact, some of the leaders expressed sympathy for those individuals who, totally distraught over losses suffered in the Event, found solace in the mood-altering substances. There was also a side benefit of not having to worry about a crime problem based upon a narcotics trade.

For a general anesthetic, the doctors asked their pharmaceutical colleagues if they could manage to prepare some nitrous oxide, the famous laughing gas once beloved by dentists, but also used in past years by medical surgeons. Following the technique developed by Humphry Davy in the late eighteenth century, the chemists proposed to obtain the gas by combining zinc with dilute nitric acid, which in turn could be derived from saltpeter.

The native healers were also kept busy; and a number of individuals—blacks and whites—harvested curatives, and supposed curatives, from a variety of indigenous plants.

* * *

On the seventh day, the Planning Subcommittee turned its attention to Research and Development. The future: How were survivors, having barely escaped with their lives, to think about a high-technology future? In the effort to rebuild a suitable habitat, to bring order out of chaos, and to establish a basic industrial society, long-term planning could not be the center of attention. But—another one of those ambiguities with which they had to live— neither could it be forgotten. The Planning Subcommittee had assumed from the beginning that, although technological development would occur in several sequential stages, planning for each of the various stages should commence immediately and proceed in parallel. Even as elemental everyday needs were being addressed—food, shelter, health care, transport, and basic manufactures—design for a second stage should be underway, and also a third.

Gordon Chan set forth the strategy in these terms: “Let us commit our second stage of recovery to the creation of a chemical industry. Most of the essential raw materials are available to us, particularly considering that we know how to synthesize just about any material we want from carbon-rich materials such as coal. Researchers, guided by the formulas and techniques painstakingly developed through the past century, will embark on such syntheses, beginning with those chemicals deemed most important for our evolving society. Prioritizing will be a difficult but essential part of the process. Then chemical engineers will develop pilot plants to test manufacturing methods, and this will lead eventually to full-scale production plants.”

Chan held up his hands as if to forestall the wave of protest he knew was building.

“Simultaneously—let me say it quickly, before I anger my mechanical and electrical colleagues—there must be development of sources of power: steam engines, internal combustion engines, and electric generators. Also, of course, reestablishment of instant communications; perhaps we will skip the telephone and go directly to radio. After that comes what I consider the third stage, featuring the products of the electronic revolution—with television and the computer in the spotlight.”

There was a sudden restlessness among the group, evidence both of excitement over high-tech prospects and uneasiness about looking too far ahead when present needs were so great.

“There will inevitably be frustration,” Chan continued, “particularly as the electronics people wait for power, materials, and manufacturing capacity. I would expect, in general, that we’ll have to repeat most of the industrial revolutions through which our forebears passed once before, only greatly accelerated because our knowledge base is so far advanced; but slowed down in some areas because of our limited material and human resources. This is what I expect. But we should also expect the unexpected. We should allow for—in fact, encourage—technological advances that will permit us to ‘jump over’ the established ways of doing things. I don’t know what these advances might be. But I would be surprised if they didn’t come along sooner rather than later. After all, we are engineers.”

Gordon Chan had delivered his message; but he could not resist adding a postscript.

“A fourth stage of development, almost as enigmatic as a fourth dimension in time and space, will be the decisions on what technologies not to pursue. For example, in our tiny homeland, do we need an aviation industry? Will we want to resume the exploration of space? No, certainly not for a very, very long time. Yet, can we bring ourselves to abandon any scientific or technological quest that piques our interest? As I said, we are engineers.”

The Planning Subcommittee, steering away from these philosophical depths, decided merely that there should be no stinting on research and development leading toward the future. Accordingly, they proposed that one hundred and fifty engineers and scientists, plus fifty assistants, be assigned to plan the second and third stages of development.

Pieter Kemm of the Richards Bay Minerals Company and Kelvin Marshall of Sasol Limited, both of whom had previously reported to the Governing Council, were to round up any surviving members of their companies and establish two centers of engineering excellence based upon their past achievements. Engineers from the Queen of Africa seminar were to organize themselves into working research groups based upon their special disciplines. These groups were to recommend specific research projects and gain endorsement, first, from the appropriate engineering society, and second, from the Joint Planning Subcommittee. Final approval and settlement of disputes was to rest with Wilson Hardy, as president of the umbrella society. As a diplomat of ever-increasing tact, Hardy was expected to pull off this feat with a minimum of commotion.

The subcommittee further resolved that all engineers assigned to current activities—construction, mining, brickmaking, etc.—would be expected to make themselves available to the R and D community for technical

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