THE NEW GULLIVER AND OTHER STORIES
By
BARRY PAIN
Author of "STORIES IN GREY"
T. WERNER LAURIE, Ltd.
CLIFFORD'S INN
LONDON
CONTENTS
THE NEW GULLIVER
IN A LONDON GARDEN
ZERO
WHEN I WAS KING
THE SATYR
THE CHOICE
THE PIANO-TUNER
THE PEARLS AND THE SWINE
THE NEW GULLIVER
CHAPTER I
_(The first few pages of the account of his travels by Mr Lemuel
Gulliver, junior, have unfortunately been damaged by fire and are for
the most part illegible. They contain reference to a sea-fog and to a
shipwreck. He appears to have escaped by swimming, and his record of the
number of days he spent in the water and the distance covered verges
upon the incredible. His statement that he lived principally upon the
raw flesh of those sharks which made the mistake of attacking him will
also be accepted with reserve by those who remember the latitude in
which the Island of Thule is traditionally placed. The legible and
consecutive manuscript begins with his arrival at the island.)_
I now wrung the water from my clothes as well as I might, and spread
them on the rocks in the sun. After an hour, perhaps, I was so far
recovered from my exertions that I thought I might now see what manner
of island this was to which my ill-chance had brought me. Donning my
clothes again I climbed up the low cliff.
The land that now lay before me appeared to be for the most part flat
and bleak in character. There were long stretches of sand and coarse
grass, and here and there a group of stunted shrubs. Presently, in the
far distance, by the aid of my perspective-glass, I made out several
cultivated plots, but nowhere could I detect any building which might
serve as a human habitation. At one point, which I guessed to be about
two miles away, a column of smoke arose, as if from the interior of the
earth. This I imagined to be of volcanic origin, but it puzzled me not a
little that the land should be under cultivation and that yet I could
find not so much as a single house or cottage.
So intent was I upon my survey of the distance that I did not note the
approach of a human being until I heard the footsteps close beside me. I
speak of it as a human being, but in many respects the creature differed
from humanity as previously known to me. Particularly noticeable was its
manner of progression. It walked very slowly and laboriously on all
fours, the arms being longer and the legs shorter than in the normal
man. Its body was clothed in two garments of a thick grey woollen
material, and loose boots with tops of a similar material, but with
leather soles, were worn both on the hands and feet. The size of the
head was disproportionately large and seemed too heavy for the slender
neck. It was bald save for a fringe of scanty grey hair. Large
spectacles of high magnifying power distorted the eyes, and the
toothless mouth was absurdly small. The grotesque object was more likely
to inspire laughter than fear, for the body was small and its movements
slow and feeble, but indeed it showed not the slightest sign of
hostility.
"I see," said the creature, "that you are from the old world. Who are
you?" He spoke in a gentle voice and with an accent not unlike that
which we call American.
"My name is Lemuel Gulliver, a shipwrecked mariner, at your service.
Will you tell me what island this is on which I find myself, and to whom
I am speaking."
"The island is Thule--Ultima Thule--the one spot of earth that has
emerged from barbarism. Chance has done great things for you in bringing
you here."
He slipped one hand out of its boot, removed his big spectacles, and
blinked his weak eyes. I watched him narrowly. His face was hairless. It
might have been the face of an old woman or of an old man. A look of
cunning now crept over it.
"I think," he said, "that I grasp your difficulty. You may speak of me
as a man; but for beings of the first class, to which I belong, sex is
abolished. It was perhaps the worst of nature's evils that our
triumphant civilisation in the process of centuries overcame."
"But in that case," I said, "your race, or that class of it to which you
belong, must be rapidly dying out."
"It is undoubtedly dying out," said the strange creature with a
complacent smile, "but less rapidly than a barbarian would suppose.
Increased knowledge has brought with it increased longevity. I am myself
one hundred and ninety-two years of age. The end must come, of course,
but after all, why not?"
As I looked at him I did not from the æsthetic point of view see why
not. The creature had replaced the spectacles now, and lay at full
length on the sand, as if wearied by the standing position. He went on
speaking:
"Death in the individual is, of course, to some extent a confession of
failure. It means inability, mostly due to ignorance, to adapt oneself
to one's environment. Death of a race may be quite a different
matter--an exhaustion of utility. However that may be, it is clear that
the last of us to survive will represent the highest possible
development of human potentiality. I speculate sometimes on the question
of who the ultimate survivor will be. It may possibly be Professor
YM6403 of the Outer Office. Some think so. I believe he thinks so
himself. On the other hand, I may be the last survivor. However, there
are still some thousands of us in existence, and for the present these
disquisitions may appear to you idle."
My clothes were damp and I was chilly, hungry, and tired. His jabber
about professors and survivors had no interest for me. I ventured to
point out to him that I was at present in urgent need of rest and
refreshment.
He rose on all fours again, and did so with extreme awkwardness. "True,"
he said. "I will attend to it. We are hospitable people, though it is
seldom that a stranger visits us. I will proceed at once to conduct you
to my house."
"Your house? I fear that must be at some great distance, for there is no
house in sight."
For a moment he looked puzzled, and then light dawned again in his
short-sighted eyes.
"I see your mistake," he said. "You come from the old world, where the
old type of house is still in existence. The history of the old world is
the special study of my friend, the Professor. But of course there is
general knowledge that every educated being may be supposed to possess,
and I know the type of house you mean. I have seen pictures of it in the
museum. Now in Thule, when many centuries ago aviation became the
cheapest and most popular form of transit, it also became obviously
impossible that we should have houses above ground. Aviation is a source
of danger to such houses, and the houses themselves were dangerous to
the aviator. Our buildings are all subterranean. We avoid danger of
every kind. We dislike risk. You cannot see my house to which I am
taking you, but as a matter of fact it is less than a quarter of a mile
away."
He went so slowly that I had to abate my usual pace, lest I should
outstrip my guide. As he moved, he looked a little like a very small
tired elephant.
"Aviation," I said. "I suppose that with you that has been carried to a
great point of perfection."
"On the contrary," he said, "it is superseded. It is a back number. We
no longer use it. But we have seen no reason to change our style of
domicile, which possesses many advantages."
"And what is it?" I asked, "that has superseded aviation?"
"It is the power to dissipate and subsequently reconstruct identically
at some different point the atoms of any organism or group of
organisms."
"I don't think I understand," I said.
"It is natural that you should not. However, here we are at my house."
It looked to me rather as if we had come to an ordinary well, the
interior of which was occupied by a spiral descending incline.
"You will observe," he said, "that when I am weary of exertion and
return to my house, I descend. In the old type of house it was customary
to ascend."
I should calculate that we descended some thirty-five or forty feet
below the surface. At this point we were confronted by a perfectly
ordinary door with a brass knocker on it and an electric light above it.
On the door were painted the letters and figures MZ04. He opened the
door with a small latchkey, which he produced from one of his boots. The
keyhole and the handle were placed at such a height that it was easy for
him to reach them without assuming the erect position. We went through
into a small hall, brightly lit and containing no furniture but a
door-mat, on which my guide wiped his four boots carefully. He then
requested me to come with him into the dining-room, as indeed I was by
no means reluctant to do.
On entering this room, however, I was disappointed, for it bore no
resemblance whatever to a dining-room, and there was no look of good
cheer about it. Its walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were
filled with numbered bottles containing what looked like small pills. In
the middle of the room, immediately under the light, was a low table, on
which were a row of small aluminium cups and a leather-bound book. There
was no other furniture of any description.
"You are looking for a chair perhaps," said my host presently. "We have
none. To stand erect on the feet is a precarious position, and to sit is
hardly less precarious. We avoid all risk. On all fours or in a
recumbent position one is safe. However, if you would like to sit on the
floor, pray do so, while I make up the prescription which you require."
I sat down on the floor, which was very hard and discouraging. I did not
greatly like that use of the word "prescription," and my inner man cried
rather for butcher's meat than for chemist's stuff. However, a man must
take his adventures as he finds them.
My guide slipped his hands out of his boots and consulted the volume on
the table. "From long use," he said meditatively, "I know most of the
numbers by heart; but I cannot recall what is taken for a chill caused
by prolonged submersion in sea-water. I have never had occasion to use
it. Ah, here we are! Number one hundred and one."
He took down the bottle which bore that number, and dropped one pill
from it into an aluminium cup. I noticed that the shelves were all
placed low on the wall. But indeed the whole of the appointments and
furniture of the house was adapted for beings who used the quadrupedal
position. I noticed, moreover, both now and afterwards, what very little
furniture there was in these houses. The hatred of superfluity was a
marked characteristic of the people of Thule.
My host took down one bottle after another from the shelves, talking as
he did so. Each bottle had an ingenious stopper, which allowed one pill,
and only one, to fall out each time that the bottle was reversed.
"I have never eaten shark, cooked or uncooked," said my host, "but I
should imagine that a diet confined to this meat would give an excess of
nitrogen. We correct that with one of number eighteen. To this I add our
ordinary repast--numbers one, two, and three--a corrective for
exhaustion from number sixty-four, and a pill of a narcotic character
from sixty-eight."
He handed me the little aluminium cup with the pills in it. "I think,"
he said, "that is all you require."
"I am extremely thirsty," I said.
"No civilised man eats and drinks at the same time." He whisked down
another bottle and dropped one more pill into my cup. "You will find,"
he said, "that little addition will remove all sensation of thirst. You
shall drink when the right time comes."
I took my pills obediently and was now conducted by him into a much
smaller room on the same level. I afterwards saw other subterranean
houses in the island. They were all alike in plan, and the rooms were
all small and so low that when I stood erect I could easily touch the
ceiling with my hand. The total absence of decoration, and the
simplicity and scarcity of the furniture, were not specially
characteristic of my host. Æsthetic pleasure was very slightly
appreciated by any of the first-class beings in Thule.
A pneumatic mattress lay at one end of the room which we had now
entered, and there were two dials on the wall, each provided with a
moving hand. There was no other furniture of any kind.
"There is your bed," said my host. "Now sleep."
"I should hardly have called it a bed," I said dubiously.
"It is not the barbarian idea of a bed. We abandoned bed-clothes of
every description long ago. They are not hygienic. All that is necessary
is to raise the temperature of the room in which the sleeper lies. This
you can easily do by altering the hand on the first of these dials,
which controls the heat. It stands at present at fifteen. When I sleep I
generally put it up to twenty. We will try it at twenty, and you can
advance it farther if you find yourself chilly. The other dial controls
the lighting and gives you five degrees of light down to absolute
darkness."
"I wonder," I said, "if I might have my clothes dried. They are still
damp, I fear."
He looked at my garments with marked distaste.
"If you will put them outside the door," he said, "I will see that they
are thrown into the refuse-destructor, and will order proper clothes to
be provided for you in their place. You will sleep for one hour, and
shortly after that I shall return. By the way, how comes it that you
speak our language?"
"I speak English," I said.
"English," he said meditatively. "English. I have heard that word
somewhere. No, don't explain. I can easily obtain the information."
He now left me. I put the hand on the heat dial at twenty-five. Although
I had no clothes of any description, I felt pleasantly warm, and in
spite of the excitement caused by the novelty of my experience, I soon
fell asleep. This may be ascribed either to the fatigues I had undergone
or to the potency of the drugs administered to me.