"Sure, why not," said he. "Isn't even necessary to ask if the
girl-friend wants it. Do you have a law about women getting permission
for what they want to do, too?"
"No. Stop, Pavel Josephovitch." He turned to Heidekopfer; "But the will
of one must become the will of all."
"Now I don't understand," said Heidekopfer, as Ann adjusted her camera
to take a sweeping panorama of the valley. "Would you mind explaining?"
"In happy Tolstoia when the desire of one person would cause others
to do what they might not desire, all must agree before it is done.
To allow anything else would be compulsion, and as the Master says;
'Anything that savors of compulsion is harmful.'"
"I can see where there must be some prize family arguments in happy
Tolstoia," said Ann, in English. "Would I like to be married to a man
if I had to get his agreement every time I wanted to buy a new hat? No."
"If you'll marry me you won't have to--" began Heidekopfer, but
Behrmann was speaking again:
"It was not always so. When our people came from holy Russia, they were
like others on earth, with only the desire for universal brotherhood
and the writings of the Master to guide them. But there was so much
love among them and they obeyed the law so well that a hundred
thirty-one of our years ago, brotherhood was attained and the will of
all became the will of the one. Now it is possible for us to extend the
privilege of agreement to outsiders. This is why none who have felt it
wish to leave."
* * * * *
By this time, they had almost caught up to the leading droshky, which
was just turning into a tree-lined alley at the end of which stood
quite the largest house they had yet seen. It had two stories and a
couple of jutting wings beside the central door. "This where we're
going?" asked Ann.
"The residence of the Patriarch Pitrim Androvich Samsonov," said
Behrmann, with the sonorous accents of one who is aware of saying
something impressive.
The others got out and waited for them. When they had assembled
Vikhranov led the procession, opening the door himself, and they found
themselves in a neat hall with whitewashed walls and plain chairs
standing against them. The light from the door was helped out by a
couple of candles in bracket holders on the wall. Vikhranov said, "You
will wait here," and turned through a door to the right. It could not
have been more than a couple of minutes before a tall, strong man
came out, wiping his hands on his smock, as though he had just been
interrupted in something. Heidekopfer experienced an almost physical
shock at the emanation of personality that seemed to flow from him. He
might equally have been a general or a prophet, but either way there
was no doubting that if he wanted somebody to do something, they would
probably do it. Ann too was affected. She lifted her camera and let
the photographing light play on the patriarch, but he moved his head
slightly, the light went out and she put the camera back to her belt,
an expression of awe suffusing her face.
Vikhranov said, "Little Father, these are the ambassadors from the
Council. They did not tell me their names."
Lanzerotti gave him a peculiar look and said, "I am the ambassador and
my name is Lanzerotti. This is--"
The big man lifted a hand. "It is good for simplicity to address all
persons by their patronymics," he said. "Mine is Pitrim Androvich."
Instead of looking at Lanzerotti he was, staring fixedly at Ann.
"Oh, I see," said the diplomat. "Well by that system, I suppose
you'd have to call me Vincent Guidovich. And this is my wife,
Rosa--uh--Mariovna."
Heidekopfer and Ann similarly identified themselves. Samsonov said, "We
will show you your rooms. Is it your custom to change the clothes after
travelling?"
Rosa Lanzerotti spoke for the group, "I think I'd like to change my
shoes at least. They got rather muddy."
Samsonov turned to Kazetzky: "Pyotr Ilyich, will you and the
horse-drivers bring the baggage of the ambassadors to the rooms in the
west wing, in the name of the Master? There is a special law that this
service may be performed for them."
He reached out a hand, calmly took one of Ann's, and began to lead her
along the hall toward a door on the opposite side. There didn't seem to
be anything to do but follow.
"Do you have any children?" said Samsonov, as he turned down a corridor
at right angles to the first. "It is Nature's way of life for women to
have children."
Ann laughed. "I'm afraid not yet. I'm going to leave that until after
I'm married."
"It is not against our law for women to have children before." Still
holding the girl's hand, he touched a door. "This room will belong to
you, Vincent Guidovich."
The next was for Heidekopfer. The opened door showed a clean, plain
room with Venusian yellow poppies in a vase on a writing table, a bed
and a washstand with a pitcher of water. The walls were bare and there
didn't seem to be any plumbing. Outside the baggage was arriving.
Heidekopfer claimed his own, unpacked and put on a pair of clean shoes,
and went out to find Ann's door open and the girl engaged in a similar
task.
He grumbled, "If that big bruiser keeps on making such a play for you,
it's going to be bad for international relations."
She laughed. "He said he loved me--but in the brotherhood of man,
everyone must love everyone else. Then he let me take his picture.
Let's go check with the Lanzerottis before going to the audience." She
stood up.