We repeat this to ourselves, but it helps us not.
These words were cut long ago. There is green mould in the
grooves of the letters and yellow streaks [-on-] {+in+} the marble, which
come from more years than men could count. And these words are
the truth, for they are written on the Palace of the World
Council, and the World Council is the body of all truth. Thus has
it been ever since the Great Rebirth, and farther back than that
no memory can reach.
But we must never speak of the times before the Great Rebirth,
else we are sentenced to three years in the Palace of Corrective
Detention. It is only the Old Ones who whisper about it in the
evenings, in the Home of the Useless. They whisper many strange
things, of the towers which rose to the sky, in those
Unmentionable Times, and of the wagons which moved without
horses, and of the lights which burned without flame. But those
times were evil. And those times passed away, when men saw the
Great Truth which is this: that all men are one and that there is
no will save the will of all men together.
All men are good and wise. It is only we, Equality 7-2521, we
alone who were born with a curse. For we are not like our
brothers. And as we look back upon our life, we see that it has
ever been thus and that it has brought us step by step to our
last, supreme transgression, our [-crime-] {+crimes+} of crimes hidden here
under the ground.
We remember the Home of the Infants where we lived till we were
five years old, together with all the children of the City who
had been born in the same year. The sleeping halls there were
white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds. We
were just like all our brothers then, save for the one
transgression: we fought with our brothers. There are few
offenses blacker than to fight with our brothers, at any age and
for any cause whatsoever. The Council of the Home told us so, and
of all the children of that year, we were locked in the cellar
most often.
When we were five years old, we were sent to the Home of the
Students, where there are ten wards, for our ten years of
learning. Men must learn till they reach their fifteenth year.
Then they go to work. In the Home of the Students we arose when
the big bell rang in the tower and we went to our beds when it
rang again. Before we removed our garments, we stood in the great
sleeping hall, and we raised our right arms, and we said all
together with the three Teachers at the head:
"We are nothing. Mankind is all. By the grace of our brothers are
we allowed our lives. We exist through, by and for our brothers
who are the State. Amen."
Then we slept. The sleeping halls were white and clean and bare
of all things save one hundred beds.
We, Equality 7-2521, were not happy in those years in the Home of
the Students. It was not that the learning was too hard for us.
It was that the learning was too easy. This is a great sin, to be
born with a head which is too quick. It is not good to be
different from our brothers, but it is evil to be superior to
them. The Teachers told us so, and they frowned when they looked
upon us.
So we fought against this curse. We tried to forget our lessons,
but we always remembered. We tried not to understand what the [-Teachers-]
{+teachers+} taught, but we always understood it before the Teachers
had spoken. We looked upon Union [-5-3992,-] {+5-3992+} who were a pale boy with
only half a brain, and we tried to say and do as they did, that
we might be like them, like Union 5-3992, but somehow the
Teachers knew that we were not. And we were lashed more often
than all the other children.
The Teachers were just, for they had been appointed by the
Councils, and the Councils are the [-voice-] {+voices+} of all justice, for
they are the voice of all men. And if sometimes, in the secret
darkness of our heart, we regret that which befell us on our
fifteenth birthday, we know that it was through our own guilt. We
had broken a law, for we had not paid heed to the words of our
Teachers. The Teachers had said to us all:
"Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do
when you leave the Home of the Students. You shall do
[-that which-] {+what+} the
Council of [-Vocations-] {+Vocation+} shall prescribe for you. For the Council of
Vocations knows in its great wisdom where you are needed by your
brother men, better than you can know it in your unworthy little
minds. And if you are not needed by your brother [-man,-] {+men,+} there is no
reason for you to burden the earth with your bodies."
We knew this well, in the years of our childhood, but our curse
broke our will. We were guilty and we confess it here: we were
guilty of the great Transgression of Preference. We preferred
some work and some lessons to the others. We did not listen well
to the history of all the Councils elected since the Great
Rebirth. But we [-love-] {+loved+} the Science of Things. We wished to know.
We wished to know about all the things which [-make-] {+makes+} the earth
around us. We asked so many questions that the Teachers forbade it.
We think that there are mysteries in the
[-sky,-] {+sky+} and [-under-] the water and in
the plants which grow. But the Council of Scholars has said that
there are no mysteries, and the Council of Scholars knows all
things. And we learned much from our Teachers. We learned that
the earth is flat and that the sun revolves around it, which
causes the day and [-the-] night. We learned the names of all the winds
which blow over the seas and push the sails of our great ships.
We learned how to bleed men to cure them of all ailments.
We [-love-] {+loved+} the Science of Things. And in the darkness, in the
secret hour, when we awoke in the night and there were no brothers
around us, but only their shapes in the beds and their snores,
we closed our eyes, and we held our lips shut, and we
stopped our breath, that no shudder might let our brothers see or
hear or guess, and we thought that we wished to be sent to the
Home of the Scholars when our time would come.
All {+of+} the great modern inventions come from the Home of the
Scholars, such as the newest one, which was found only a hundred
years ago, of how to make candles from wax and string; also, how
to make glass, which is put in our windows to protect us from the
rain. To find these things, the Scholars must study the earth and
learn from the rivers, from the sands, from the winds and the
rocks. And if we went to the Home of the Scholars, we could learn
from these also. We could ask questions of these, for they do not
forbid questions.
And questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us
seek we know not what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It
whispers to us that there are great things on this earth of ours,
and that we [-can know them
if we try, and that we-] must know them. We ask, why must we know, but it has
no answer to give us. We must know that we may know.
So we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars. We wished it
so much that our hands trembled under the blankets in the night,
and we bit our arm to stop that other pain which we could not
endure. It was evil and we dared not face our brothers in the
morning. For men may wish nothing for themselves. And we were
punished when the Council of Vocations came to give us our life
Mandates which tell those who reach their fifteenth year what
their work is to be for the rest of their days.
The Council of Vocations came {+in+} on the first day of spring, and
they sat in the great hall. And we who were fifteen and all the
Teachers came into the great hall. And the Council of [-vocations-] {+Vocations+}
sat on a high dais, and they had but two words to speak to each
of the Students. They called the Students' names, and when the [-Students-]
{+students+} stepped before them, one after another, the Council
said: "Carpenter" or "Doctor" or "Cook" or "Leader." Then each
Student raised their right arm and said: "The will of our
brothers be done."
Now if the Council [-has-] said "Carpenter" or "Cook," the Students so
assigned go to [-work,-] {+work+} and [-they-] do not study any further. But if the
Council has said "Leader," then those [-Students-] {+students+} go into the Home
of the Leaders, which is the greatest house in the City, for it
has three stories. And there they study for many years, {+so that
they may become candidates+} and be elected to the City Council and
the State Council and the World Council--by a free and general
vote of all men. But we wished not to be a Leader, even though it
is a great honor. We wished to be a Scholar.
So we awaited our turn in the great hall and then we heard the
Council of Vocations call our name: "Equality 7-2521." We walked
to the dais, and our legs did not tremble, and we looked up at
the {+Council. There were five members of the+} Council, three of the
male gender and two of the female. Their hair was white and their
faces were cracked as the clay of a dry river bed. They were old.
They seemed older than the marble of the Temple of the World
Council. They sat before us and they did not move. And we saw no
breath to stir the folds of their white togas. But we knew that
they were alive, for a finger of the hand of the oldest rose,
pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only thing which
moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said:
"Street Sweeper."
We felt the cords of our neck grow tight as our head rose higher
to look upon the faces of the Council, and we were happy. We [-knew-] {+know+}
we had been guilty, but now we had a way to atone for it. We
would accept our Life Mandate, and we would work for our
brothers, gladly and willingly, and we would erase our sin
against them, which they did not know, but we knew. So we were
happy, and proud of ourselves and of our victory over ourselves.
We raised our right arm and we spoke, and our voice was the
clearest, the steadiest voice in the hall that day, and we said:
"The will of our brothers be done."
And we looked straight into the eyes of the Council, but their
eyes were as cold {+as+} blue glass buttons.
So we went into the Home of the Street Sweepers. It is a grey
house on a narrow street. There is a sundial in its courtyard, by
which the Council of the Home can tell the hours of the day and
when to ring the bell. When the bell rings, we all arise from our
beds. [-They-] {+The+} sky is green and cold in our windows to the east. The
shadow on the sundial marks off a half-hour while we dress and
eat our breakfast in the dining hall, where there are five long
tables with twenty clay plates and twenty clay cups on each
table. Then we go to work in the streets of the City, with our
brooms and our rakes. In five hours, when the sun is high, we
return to the Home and we eat our midday meal, for which
one-half hour is allowed. Then we go to work again. In five
hours, the shadows are blue on the pavements, and the sky is blue
with a deep brightness which is not bright. We come back to have
our dinner, which lasts one hour. Then the bell rings and we walk
in a straight column to one of the City Halls, for the Social
Meeting. Other columns of men arrive from the Homes of the
different Trades. The candles are lit, and the Councils of the
different Homes stand in a pulpit, and they speak to us of our
duties and of our brother men. Then visiting Leaders mount the
pulpit and they read to us the speeches which were made in the
City Council that day, for the City Council represents all men
and all men must know. Then we sing hymns, the Hymn of
Brotherhood, and the Hymn of Equality, and the Hymn of the
Collective Spirit. The sky is a soggy purple when we return to
the Home. Then the bell rings and we walk in a straight column to
the City Theatre for three hours of Social Recreation. There a
play is shown upon the stage, with two great choruses from the
Home of the Actors, which speak and answer all together, in two
great voices. The plays are about toil and how good it is. Then
we walk back to the Home [-is-] {+in+} a straight column. The sky is like a
black sieve pierced by silver drops that tremble, ready to burst
through. The moths beat against the street lanterns. We go to our
beds and we sleep, till the bell rings again. The sleeping halls
are white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds.
Thus have we lived each day of four years, until two springs ago
when our crime happened. Thus must all men live until they are
forty. At forty, they are worn out. At forty, they are sent to
the Home of the Useless, where the Old Ones live. The Old Ones do
not work, for the State takes care of them. They sit in the sun
in summer and they sit by the fire in winter. They do not speak
often, for they are weary. The Old Ones know that they are soon
to die. When a miracle happens and some live to be forty-five,
they are the
[-ancient ones,-] {+Ancient Ones,+} and [-the-] children stare at them when
passing by the Home of the Useless. Such is to be our life, as
that of all our brothers and of the brothers who came before us.
Such would have been our life, had we not committed our crime
which {+has+} changed all things for us. And it was our curse which
drove us to our crime. We had been a good Street Sweeper and like
all our brother Street Sweepers, save for our cursed wish to
know. We looked too long at the stars at night, and at the trees
and the earth. And when we cleaned the yard of the Home of the
Scholars, we gathered the glass vials, the pieces of metal, the
dried bones which they had discarded. We wished to keep these
things and to study them, but we had no place to hide them. So we
carried them to the City Cesspool. And then we made the
discovery.
It was on a day of the spring before last. We Street Sweepers
work in brigades of three, and we were with Union 5-3992, they of
the [-half brain,-] {+half-brain,+} and with International 4-8818. Now Union 5-3992
are a sickly lad and sometimes they are stricken with
convulsions, when their mouth froths and their eyes turn white.
But International 4-8818 are different. They are a tall, strong
youth and their eyes are like fireflies, for there is laughter in
their eyes. We cannot look upon International 4-8818 and not
smile in answer. For this they were not liked in the Home of the
Students, as it is not proper to smile without reason. And also
they were not liked because they took pieces of coal and they
drew pictures upon the walls, and they were pictures which made
men laugh. But it is only our brothers in the Home of the Artists
who are permitted to draw pictures, so International 4-8818 were
sent to the Home of the Street Sweepers, like ourselves.
International 4-8818 and we are friends. This is an evil thing to
say, for it is a {+great+} transgression, the great Transgression of
Preference, to love any among men better than the others, since
we must love all men and all men are our friends. So
International 4-8818 and we have never spoken of it. But we know.
We know, when we look into each other's eyes. And when we look
thus without [-words,-] {+works,+} we both know other things also, strange
things for which there are no words, and these things frighten us.
So on that day of the spring before last, Union 5-3992 were stricken
with convulsions on the edge of the City, near the City Theatre.
We left them to lie in the shade of the Theatre tent and
we went with International 4-8818 to finish our work. We came
together to the great ravine behind the Theatre. It is empty save
for trees and weeds. Beyond the ravine there is a plain, and
beyond the plain there lies the Uncharted Forest, about which men
must not think.
We were gathering the papers and the rags which the wind had
blown from the Theatre, when we saw an iron bar among the weeds.
It was old and rusted by [-man-] {+many+} rains. We pulled with all our
strength, but we could not move it. So we called International [-4-8818,-]
{+4-8818+} and together we scraped the earth around the bar. Of a
sudden the earth fell in before us, and we saw an old iron grill
over a black hole.
International 4-8818 stepped back. But we pulled at the grill and
it gave way. And then we saw iron rings as steps leading down a
shaft into a darkness without bottom.
"We shall go down," we said to International 4-8818.
"It is forbidden," they answered.
We said: "The Council does not know of this hole, so it cannot be
forbidden."
And they answered: "Since the Council does not know of this
hole, there can be no law permitting to enter it. And everything
which is not permitted by law is forbidden."