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Realising that nothing more would be forthcoming on the matter for the moment, she shrugged her shoulders and went into the projection room.
7.
She sat down in a seat next to Yranne, while the young man went off to give instructions to the operators. The lights went out and the film began. The two ministers found the opening sequences quite attractive. The trial had been carried out with the care which the laboratory brought to all its work.
It made a good visual impression. Complicated plays of light created a fantastic shimmering effect around the players, both men and women, who had all been chosen for their physiques and their skill as swimmers. They appeared to glide in a magical universe without gravity. They pursued each other tirelessly, each one trying to drive their opponent into a corner to shoot him at point blank range, while the other, after diving and swirling, slid like an eel between the other’s legs to strike him on the back. When one of them was hit by a dart, he simulated his death throes in an admirable way. These death throes took on a new and unexpected dimension deep in the water and the gushing artificial blood, with its pulsing stains like crimson jellyfish, added to its iridescence.
‘It’s really not so bad,’ commented Yranne in a low voice.
Betty did not reply. She was tempted occasionally to agree with this praise, but, the next moment, she felt almost ill at ease, disconcerted by an indefinable oppression. It was not due to the fact that the water had become so cloudy after several simulated wounds that one could only see the end of the conflict vaguely. This was a practical detail which it was no doubt possible to remedy, as Rousseau had said. There was something else, a failing which she felt intuitively should be obvious yet escaped her. Her companion soon seemed to be having the same impression, for he did not utter a word until the end of the film, which lasted about a quarter of an hour.
‘What do you think of it, Madame?’
Betty’s nerves were so tense that this unexpected question, spoken behind her in an abnormally high tone, made her jump. Yranne reacted in the same way beside her. The light had been switched on again for several moments, and they both remained motionless and silent, as though subject to some hypnotic effect.
Mrs Betty Han, whose self-composure was one of her virtues, detested those rare occasions when she was caught in the act of being nervous. She turned round in a fury to the youn
g Rousseau, who had returned silently towards the end of the film and was standing behind them, and who was responsible for this untimely display of feeling.
‘There’s no point in surprising me like that,’ she said in a bed-tempered way.
‘A thousand apologies, Madame,’ he replied contritely, ‘but… I did it deliberately.’
‘What?’
‘I did it deliberately,’ he repeated firmly. ‘It’s a continuation of my experiment.’
Yranne started to look at him with increased interest. Still speaking humbly, Rousseau said: ‘It’s just a simple little psychological test.’
‘For which we have served as guinea pigs for you, if I understand you correctly,’ said Betty, now too intrigued to be really angry. ‘But I don’t see exactly…’
‘I only intervened unexpectedly to emphasise the condition into which this game has plunged you. Your reaction has proven that this condition is much closer to oppression than enthusiasm.’
‘That may be true. But what caused the oppression?’
‘Didn’t you feel it, Madame?’ Rousseau said, lowering his voice and becoming mysterious again… ‘The world of silence.’
‘What do you mean, the world of silence?’ Betty repeated in exasperation.
‘This young man will go far,’ Yranne suddenly exclaimed. ‘I know what he means, Betty!’
‘Lucky you!’
‘Madame, the reason why this experiment was of inestimable value is because it makes clear, by emphasising the fact, a major fault which is common to all our games. There is no…’
‘No sound!’ Yranne shouted. ‘I told you I understood. No sound!… He’s a genius, Betty.’
‘No –’
She interrupted herself and uttered an exclamation, finally seeing the light herself. She had had a vague feeling for a long time that the previous failures had a very simple cause, but she could not define it.
‘I understand, I understand,’ she murmured, ‘but continue your explanation of what you’re thinking all the same.’
‘Well, Madame,’ said Rousseau, swelling with pride, ‘even though I don’t have a specific project to present to you myself, I really believe I have discovered the flaw in all our previous inventions, even including super-wrestling. Let’s take it as an example: the visual element was excellent, perfect, that’s why it lasted so long, but it failed to make an auditory impression. It lacked sound, noise. It is only possible to enthrall human beings by appealing to all their senses, or at least the main ones.’
‘He’s right,’ exclaimed Yranne. ‘We’ve been stupid.’
‘And me more than anyone,’ Betty admitted bitterly. ‘How could I have neglected the need to make an auditory impression? Wasn’t I the one who came up with the idea of a firework display, and the world anthem? How could we have been so blind?’
