1915 Dystopian Science Fiction "All mine, more or less," said he to himself, puffing deep on his cigar."...The millions eat and drink and buy and sell; and I take toll of it-yet it is not enough. I hold them in my hand, yet the hand cannot close, completely. And until it does, it is not enough! No, not enough for me!"...What can it be? For power I must have! Like Caesar, who preferred to be first in the smallest village, rather than be second at Rome, I can and will have no competitor. I must rule all, or the game is worthless! But how?" Almost as in answer to his mental question, a sudden gust of air swayed the curtain and brushed it against his face. And, on the moment, inspiration struck him. "What?" he exclaimed suddenly, his brows wrinkling, a strange and eager light burning in his hard eyes. "Eh, what? Can it-could it be possible? My God! If so-if it might be-the world would be my toy, to play with as I like! ...