Rick Theron had never been away from the farms before in his life and
his first sight of the shining city of Sanlou almost took his breath
away and made him forget momentarily his hate and his resolution to
defy the Machine. His longing for the fields and ranges, the patient
cattle and green crops dimmed a trifle. He hadn’t known a city could be
beautiful, too.
The plane dropped from the sky almost at the base of its outermost
tall building. Only then was he aware that the Watch Police had been
observing him closely for a long time.
The plane rolled to a stop.
“Okay. This is it, farmboy,” one of them said. “Let’s go in and get the
manure cleaned off your feet for the last time.”
There was no clear impression of what followed immediately--a thousand
blurred details of registration, identification, movement through
pleasing corridors and rooms, a complete physical examination that
included everything but a count of his body cells. Then, at the end of
the day, a moment of rest in the chambers of the Orientation Officer to
whom he had been assigned.
The man was tall, like Rick. He had lighter hair, but a countenance
that was no less rugged, as if he knew what it was to work with his
hands under the open sky.
“I’m Jackson,” he said. “Bernard Jackson. We’re going to work in pretty
close association for the next few months, so we might as well take it
as easy as possible. I know a few things about you, but I’d like to
hear more. And then I’ll tell you anything you want to know about your
position here. Fair enough?”
Rick found himself liking the man, just as he had the city, in spite of
his determination to hate everything which had taken him from the farms.
But caution warned him against confiding fully in Jackson. He told
the story of his life, briefly, confining himself to those aspects of
it which the man must already know. He said nothing of Barie and his
terrible disappointment in losing her.
Even this seemed to be known, however. “There was a girl, wasn’t
there?” said Jackson. “A girl named Barie?”
Rick hesitated. “Yes--there was.”
“How do you feel about parting from her?”
He shrugged and then remembered Barie’s own words. “You can’t keep
childhood forever.”
He repeated them, convinced that he was saying the right thing. The
Orientation Officer nodded and smiled. “Sometimes we have a little
trouble over such situations and corrective steps are necessary.
Apparently none will be needed in your case.”
He looked directly at Rick.
“As to your own situation now the Machine has discovered an
extraordinary combination of potential abilities in you, and has been
able to match them in a very desirable counterpart with whom you will
be paired.
“You must understand that we are not wholly unhuman and mechanical
about all of this. You will be properly introduced and given adequate
opportunity to become well acquainted. We have special areas set aside
for these courtship preliminaries. Whenever you find it mutually
agreeable an official sanction is given to your pairing and you are
then ready for the next step of preparation for your place in our
society. The getting acquainted period usually takes about two to three
weeks.”
“What if it doesn’t become mutually agreeable?” Rick asked impulsively
and wished immediately that he’d held his tongue.
Bernard Jackson was not disturbed by the question, however. He merely
smiled. “That just doesn’t happen. The Machine doesn’t make mistakes.”
Rick managed to get a good night’s sleep in spite of the experiences
of the day. A long time later he reminded himself that his ability to
sleep had been a very fortunate thing, too--considering all that was to
follow during the next twenty-four hours.
He was introduced to Deva Warel, the woman with whom he was scheduled
to pair, at noon the following morning.
Bernard Jackson brought them together for lunch. She was seated at a
table near the window of the dining room in the Orientation Building.
With her was Jackson’s counterpart, a female Orientation Officer, who
seemed unhappy about the whole arrangement.
Jackson pointed her out ahead of time, as they came into the room.
“That’s her, sitting right over there,” he said.
Rick looked. For a moment he seemed to be staring at a small, golden
sunburst. Then it turned into the reddest head of hair he had ever seen
or imagined.
“That’s Deva? The one with the red hair?”
“In the flesh.”
He knew at once that the Machine’s traditional infallibility was sheer
idiocy. This girl was as unlike Barie as it was possible for a woman to
be, and on her face, as she caught sight of him and turned, was a look
of total, unadulterated antagonism.
“She has the highest potential value of any Mech designer we have
discovered for many years,” Jackson whispered as they approached. “So
you see, you are being entrusted with a very valuable property,” he
added, with a smile Rick didn’t understand at all.
Introductions were quickly completed. The name of Deva’s companion was
Flora Johns. She nodded politely, but Deva was openly contemptuous.
Inside himself, Rick felt like laughing. It occurred to him that the
machine must give out a good many solutions that human beings found
difficult to assimilate. This, certainly, was going to be one of the
most indigestible on record. In a way, he and Deva were going to be
partners after all.
As soon as the painful meal was over, Jackson cleared his throat. “I
presume you have carefully explained the preliminaries to Miss Warel,
Dr. Johns?”
“I’ve explained nothing!” the woman officer snapped. “Deva Warel states
that she absolutely refuses to go through with this arrangement. She
had already committed herself to a companion in the University.”
“That’s extremely unfortunate,” Bernard Jackson said. “However, in all
fairness to my ward, I believe we should go ahead in conformity with
established custom.”
“You young people,” he said, “will be assigned quarters in the
orientation area. Every opportunity will be offered you to become
acquainted and acquire mutual interests. Should this--ah, determination
of Miss Warel’s not be overcome we shall consult the Machine for other
arrangements. But let us have a fair trial and see what comes of it.”
V
For three days Rick remained in his room without leaving it, except for
the brief periods he spent in the restaurant. He wondered how long they
would allow the farce to go on, and what would happen to him after it
was over.
The fact that Deva Warel was as opposed to the arrangement as he was
made it a little easier to bear. But all the humor had gone out of
the situation. His heart was sick and empty for all that he had left
behind--for the farm, the cattle, even the friends who had refused to
help him.
On the fourth day he decided he’d at least have to get out in the open
if he was going to preserve his sanity. He left the building and walked
out through a large, park-like area enclosed by buildings and masonry
walls. He passed occasional couples who were apparently becoming
acquainted and “acquiring mutual interests.” For the most part they
seemed to exhibit a good deal of enthusiasm about the process.
Then he stopped short. A dozen feet away, seated on the grass with a
thick book open in her lap, was Deva Warel.
She looked up as he approached and grinned. “Welcome to the bull pen,”
she said. “I wondered when you were going to come down. Guess I must
have really scared you, huh?”
“No, I was just taking my time,” he told her. He dropped down beside
her on the grass and glanced at the title of the book. _Associative
Reflex Circuits of the Memory Package!_
“That’s too deep for you, farmboy,” she said. “Anyway, since we’re here
to court, suppose you start courting and get it over with. I’ve heard
they have some real cute customs down on the farm.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” said Rick slowly. “But ordinarily we use
courtesy and kindness to the animals. They’re the only creatures below
an Agro Sixth Rating, of course.”
She looked at him with an expression of regret in her eyes. “I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean it that way. Or maybe I _did_. I just don’t know!” She
turned away again, her expression changing to one of anguish. “You
couldn’t know anything about what this means to me. A week ago I hoped
and halfplanned to marry a man of my own status--a Mech, First Rating.
He’s a genius, and we’ve worked together all our lives.”
“I’m told that’s what you have to expect in return for the benefits of
the Machine’s great wisdom. But even an Agro can understand what it
means to rebel. I had hopes too--of marrying the woman I loved.”
* * * * *
She looked up quickly, her eyes searching his face. “I didn’t know.
That makes us partners in at least one respect, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does. The question is: What will they do to us for refusing
to pair with each other? Will it mean prison, or alteration?”
“I don’t really know. It happens so rarely. I don’t suppose you’d marry
me even to escape imprisonment.”
“Not if the future of the whole race depended on it,” Rick said
fervently. “An Agro Sixth may not have much to be proud of. But he has
a great deal of pride, just the same!”
“I thought so,” said Deva. “That makes the feeling _completely mutual_.”
Abruptly, she got up and moved to a more open spot away from the trees
and bushes. She gestured to him to follow her. Irritated, he almost
decided to walk back to the building, but his curiosity got the better
of him.
“Closer,” she said as he approached. “This place is wired for sound
in every bush and pebble. They’re watching us from observation posts
on the walls and in the buildings--and they are taking continuous
pictures. They’re interested in the progress of our courtship, you see.”
Rick straightened in sudden anger. The whole ordeal was becoming more
disgusting by the minute.
“No, be careful!” Deva said. She put her hands up and drew his head
closer to her. “Pretend you are whispering endearments in my ear,” she
said. “Keep your face down so they can’t get your lips on the film.
They won’t be able to read your words then.”
He did as she advised. She turned her face downward, too, and plucked
idly at blades of grass as if they were exchanging only words of love
and discussing the most blissful of futures.
“We’ve a chance to get away,” Deva said, “if you have the courage to
risk it.”
“I’ve already made one try,” Rick told her. “It failed because I didn’t
prepare far enough ahead.” He described his desperate, last-minute
attempt to get the plane ready.
Deva looked up in surprise, and then quickly lowered her head again.
“You’re a bigger boy than I thought,” she said. “Gerald wouldn’t take
the chance either. He had that much in common with Barie.”
“Gerald?”
“The man I worked with and loved.”
Rick looked at her. “Where did you want to go?” he asked. “Tell me,
Deva.”
“There are ten thousand square miles of open country outside the
cities. They aren’t patroled very well, because the Machine doesn’t
consider the area a vital factor. You’d be surprised how many have
escaped and are living in perfect freedom between the cities. Gerald
and I could have joined them if he had possessed the nerve--and had
loved me enough.”
“Why did he back down?” Rick asked, knowing in advance what her answer
would be.
“He said there was no future for us out there. We were civilized
citizens of a great community, and had an obligation to do our part. If
that obligation included bowing to the superior wisdom of the Machine
our only alternative was to obey. Can you imagine a weak-kneed evasion
like that from a man who _knows_ Mech theory and operation. But of
course _you_ wouldn’t understand how that knowledge should have made
him scorn the Machine. Gerald said he had his work to consider.”
“It hit pretty hard?” said Rick. “Yes--I can see that it did.”
“When he heard I’d been scheduled to pair with an Agro Sixth he acted
as if he’d just had a very narrow escape--as if I’d suddenly become
unclean. I’d loved him since I was a little girl. But I could have
killed him then.”
“You’d take him back, though--if you had the chance?”
Deva nodded. “I’d be fool enough to take him back in a minute if he had
the courage to go with me.”
“But he hasn’t,” Rick said, thinking of Barie. “And you haven’t
answered my first question. Just what do we do?”
“_We_ can go out there,” Deva said fiercely. “We can help each other
escape from the city. After that, we can split up and go our separate
ways. I haven’t quite figured out what I’ll do with the rest of my
life. But I’d rather be a wilderness outcast than remain chained here,
forced to obey every life-denying whim of the Machine.”
“Married to an Agro Sixth, of course.”
Deva nodded. “Married to an Agro Sixth. Do you know what you’ll do?
Have you given it serious thought?”
He shook his head, thinking suddenly of all the blank years ahead,
without Barie, without home or land or friends. But what Deva said was
true. Anything would be better than a life of blind obedience to the
whims of the Machine.
“You don’t believe then that the Machine is the infallible god it’s
supposed to be?” he asked curiously. “I thought all Mechs bowed to it
three times upon arising, and before going to bed.”
Deva’s lips tightened in disgust. “It’s a man-made machine, and only a
fool would let it dictate his life for him.”
“There are a good many fools, apparently.”
“Millions of them,” Deva agreed.
“Including Gerald?”
“Including both Gerald and Barie,” said Deva.
Rick started to protest, then grinned. “I think we’ll manage this
getaway if it’s physically possible. Just what are your plans?”
“Because you’re an Agro it will be possible for me to get permission to
take you out in the city--away from the bull pen. We’ll make several
trips, and come back each time. But on the final trip, we’ll just keep
going.”
“Is it that easy?”
“There’ll be a search, of course. A search is routine, but it’s never
very intensive. After that, however, it’s a long way to the nearest
Outlander post and decent food and shelter. You won’t think it’s easy
when it’s over.”
“I’m ready to start now,” Rick said, pressing her hand.
She shook her head. “No. Our wisest course is to separate now. Tonight
there will be a musical show put on for the benefit of all the gay
lovers in the bull pen. You’ll take me to that.”
“Fine. We’ll go on our first tour tomorrow?”
“I’ll see about the arrangements. You’d better pretend to steal a kiss
now--just to make it look real.”
Rick complied. After a moment Deva broke away, protesting, with fire in
her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be _that_ real, farmer-boy! You’ll behave
yourself--or find yourself left here alone.”
Rick grinned. “From what you have just told me, you’d have great
difficulty in escaping without me. So I don’t intend to worry.”
* * * * *
Even in the sanctuary of his own apartment Rick forced himself to
suppress his excitement over the prospects of immediate escape. From
what Deva had said, he was certain that the watch circuits were
observing him constantly--here as well as out in the park.
He smiled to himself at the memory of Deva’s name for it. The bull pen.
Well, what could be more appropriate? He looked down at the strolling
couples walking arm-in-arm, as if the whole revolting spectacle had
been entirely their idea. In disgust he turned away again. How could
men and women make love at the dictates of a machine? What had happened
to the human race, anyway?
At least he had to admire and respect Deva. She had courage enough to
rebel against the system, despite her certain knowledge that she would
lose her place in the only kind of society she knew. And perhaps the
price would be death.
Inevitably, his thoughts went back to Barie. He imagined her in a
similar position, facing the same kind of challenge. What if the
Machine actually should call her up. It could happen!
He went on to imagine her walking down through the gardens and along
the flower-scented paths with some man she’d never even seen before, a
love choice selected for her by a mindless machine.
The thoughts made him almost physically ill and sharply increased his
bitterness.
That night at the entertainment Deva had reassuring news. She had been
granted permission to take Rick on extensive tours of the city to
acquaint him with the unfamiliar civilization he would soon be expected
to embrace as his own. This orientation preliminary was acceptable as
part of their courtship period, since he was an Agro.
“But we’ll have to wait another four or five days,” Deva said. “They
want us to become better acquainted in the gardens where there are
not too many other distractions. So just be patient,” she said as he
frowned wryly. “It won’t embitter you for life to endure my company for
a few extra days!”
She’s right, he thought with a grin as he tucked her arm in his. She
was going to be real easy to get along with.
The show was not too bad, he guessed. He’d never seen anything quite
like it, but it wouldn’t matter if he never repeated the experience,
either. His mind refused to remain passive. It lunged about, from
considerations of his vague and shadowy future to Lonestar and Barie,
and then back to the strange little Mech girl sitting beside him. He
wondered what would become of her when once they were safely away into
the Outlander country. Had she some secret plan of her own?
During the succeeding days they spent most of their time together
discussing with each other their past lives in the widely divergent
worlds from which they had come. They spent long, idle hours in the
gardens or at the music bar. They ate together and Deva read to Rick
poems and stories that opened up a new world of beauty to him.
The time passed more quickly than he could have dreamed. Then on the
fifth day Deva said, “Tomorrow we can take a trip through the city. I
don’t suppose I’ll need a leash--”
He laughed and drew her to him and kissed her soundly as had become
their custom at parting--solely to impress the watchers who recorded
all their actions.
“I told you to behave!” Deva said, how angrily he could only guess.
“Tomorrow,” Rick promised.