When I awoke, it seemed to me that I must have slept for some six or
eight hours, yet it had been but one hour only. I felt perfectly
refreshed and well. I had shut off nearly all the light before falling
asleep, and I now groped my way to the light dial and moved the hand
round until the room was brightly illuminated. The silence of the place
was remarkable; it was almost as if I had been in an uninhabited house.
I opened the door of my room a little way, and was pleased to find a
bundle of clothes awaiting me outside. I brought the bundle in and
investigated it. At first sight it looked as if some mad and malicious
tailor had made two pairs of trousers out of a material suitable for an
overcoat. The reason of course was that the suit had been made with a
view to the conformation and habits of the natives of this curious
island. They wear two garments only, and therefore require them to be of
considerable thickness, and their arms are of about the same length as
their legs. (The difference in our own case is much less than most
people imagine.) I soon put the two garments on, and found that they
fitted me well enough if I rolled back the sleeves to leave my hands
free. I was also provided with a pair of boots similar to those my host
wore. They were too large for me, but could be kept on by a buckle and
strap fastening at the ankle.
I now made some examination of the room itself. The walls and ceiling
were covered with a hard shiny substance, which I at first thought to be
paint, but afterwards decided to be of the nature of our water-glass.
The usual right-angles between floor and walls and ceiling were in every
case softened into a curve, which I recognised to be an advantage from
the point of view of cleanliness. The floor itself was covered with the
same material as the walls and ceiling, but in this case had a minute
corrugation all over it, to prevent slipping. In the middle of the floor
was a small grating, about one foot square. As I inspected this, a fan
below it began to whirl rapidly, but without the slightest sound. As I
was looking at it my host knocked and entered. I was pleased to see that
he brought with him a sealed bottle and two aluminium cups that would
have held about half a pint apiece.
"We now drink," he said briefly.
"An excellent idea," I began, but he immediately bade me to be quiet,
saying that it was not customary to talk while drinking was in progress.
He divided the contents of the bottle (not quite fairly) between the two
cups. He gave himself the advantage of the choice and finished his drink
at a draught. I followed his example and found that I was drinking
distilled water. At this I was somewhat disappointed, but the more
disposed to forgive him for the injustice of the division.
"And now, my friend," he said, "we can talk."
"Then," I replied, "you will perhaps tell me what is the reason for the
custom which prevents you from taking your drink in a sociable manner.
In the country from which I come we like to sit and chat over our
glass."
"So it was here also in the dark ages," said my host. "At that time our
drink was for the most part of an alcoholic character, and it was found
that the more one talked, the more one drank; and the more one drank,
the more one talked. It was a vicious circle of foolishness and
ill-health, and the practice was made illegal. Alcoholic drink is quite
unknown now among the first-class beings of Thule. But the custom of not
speaking when one drinks, although we now only drink water, still
remains. It is one of the many instances in which the ritual has
survived the religion."
I pointed now to the grating in the floor. "A ventilator, I suppose."
"Exactly. It is actuated once every hour for two minutes. It draws out
carbon dioxide, which being heavier than air is in the lower part of the
room, and at the same time draws in fresh air through the corresponding
grating in the ceiling, which communicates with a shaft to the open. The
great point about it is that it is absolutely noiseless. Our study of
longevity has shown us that irritation is one of its deadliest enemies.
The noise of an electric fan is irritating, especially in a bedroom. I
dare say the crude appliances you have in the old world still whir or
clatter."
"I notice that all your electric lights are fixed in the ceiling itself.
Is there any reason for this?"
"Naturally. Anything which hangs may subsequently fall. We do not court
dangers. It is curious that you should mention it, because I was
speaking of this point only last week to my friend, the Professor. He
showed me a picture of an old-world chandelier. He also told me it was
the custom in England and other uncivilised parts of the world to daub
oil-paints on a piece of canvas. This was surrounded by a heavy frame
and was suspended on walls. It was called a framed picture. You will
find nothing so reckless here. By the way, I have found out about
England. I cross-spoke to the Outer Office, and they told me it was a
piece of land at the back of Scotland."
I found later that "to cross-speak" meant in Thule to send a wireless
message.
"The mention of the Professor," my host continued, "reminds me that
to-day is his birthday and mine. On this day I generally make him a
ceremonial visit, and I shall be pleased to take you with me. As a
specimen you will interest him."
"Might I ask what you mean by the Outer Office?"
"The Central Office deals with utilitarian knowledge and is separated
into Controls. I, for instance, am at the head of the Heat and Light
Control. The Outer Office deals with academical knowledge, and our
friend is the Professor of Old-World History. The Inner Office decides
questions of justice. But there is no time just now to explain our
simple constitution to you. We should be starting for the Professor's
house."
"One more point," I said. "May I ask your name? I should have done so
before."
"We do not have names. Beings of the first class have a distinguishing
formula, and only use names for plants and the lower animals. The
second-class beings, the workers, may possibly use names among
themselves, but of that I have no knowledge. My own distinguishing
formula is MZ04, and as no two people have the same formula, much
confusion is prevented. By the way, your hair is untidy."
"Naturally," I said. "I was going to speak of it."
"And your hands are not clean. That is as it should be. You are now
ready to pay a ceremonial call. You perhaps don't understand. All our
houses are on the same pattern, and each is provided with a fitted room
for the purposes of the bath and the toilet. But when we pay a
ceremonial call, it is our invariable custom to do so in a soiled and
dishevelled condition. On arriving we make ourselves clean and tidy in
our host's toilet-room. This is done by way of compliment. It implies
that he possesses conveniences which we do not."
"It seems to me singularly foolish, if I may say so."
"From one point of view all compliments are foolish, but from the point
of view of longevity all compliments are wise. They have a slightly
emollient effect. We recognise this so much that we even employ at times
professional optimists."
"Won't you tell me about them?"
"It is a very simple matter. If a being of the first class gets worried
and depressed, he knows that this is lowering his vitality and lessening
the period of his life. This knowledge only tends to increase the worry.
He therefore sends at once to the Central Office for a professional
optimist. The optimist comes and talks. He slightly emphasises all that
is most favourable in the being's circumstances. He dwells on the strong
points in his character. He listens to his stories. He shows himself
impressed by his abilities. We have but a few of these professional
optimists, and they are extremely well paid--that is to say, their power
of ordering from the Central Office is very considerable."
"Some of this seems to me rather childish," I said. "And some of it I do
not understand."
"You, a barbarian, can hardly be expected to grasp at once the
refinements of a higher civilisation. You will do so gradually. Now,
please, I have only just time to see the Professor before I keep my
appointment at the Heat and Light Control. Come along, please."
We passed up the spiral slope, my host going very slowly and breathing
heavily. The Professor's house was scarcely a hundred yards away, and I
think we took nearly five minutes to get to it. The outward appearance
was precisely similar to that of the house we had just quitted. When we
reached the outer door my guide knocked once. The door immediately
opened, as if of itself, and we passed into an empty hall. From this a
door led us into a large room devoted to the purposes of the bath and
the toilet. I subsequently found that in all these subterranean houses
this room was the largest. I remarked to my guide that no servant had
admitted us, and there seemed to be no one to introduce us into the
presence of the Professor.
"There are no servants," said my companion. "We have the second class,
the workers, but we should not admit them to live in our houses. We have
so far simplified life that one being can very well look after one
house, his own. As a matter of fact two second-class beings are sent
from the Hygienic Control of the Central Office every morning to clean
each house, but it is a question whether this should continue. We are
discussing it. It looks just a little like luxury, and luxury is
dangerous to longevity. Why should we have a servant to announce us? If
the Professor knows the visitor, it is not necessary. If he does not
know him, the visitor can supply the information just as well as the
servant. If the Professor had not wished to receive, the outer door
would not have opened."
We did not find the Professor in the first room we entered, but in the
dining-room, where he was taking pills out of one of those small
aluminium cups. He went on taking his pills and we watched in solemn
silence until he had finished. In appearance the Professor closely
resembled my guide, but his fringe of hair was darker and more abundant,
and something in his face seemed to betoken a love of study rather than
high practical ability. I now witnessed another curious piece of
etiquette.
"I hope you are ill," said my guide genially.
"Wrong absolutely," said the Professor, "but I trust that you yourself
are suffering from some malignant disease."
"Nothing of the kind," said MZ04.
Subsequent inquiries showed me the reason for this. The principle was
that the guest should take the earliest opportunity to make his host
feel in a superior position. Therefore etiquette required the guest to
arrive unkempt, as if he did not possess the conveniences which his host
had at his disposal. It also required him to make an obviously false
statement as to his host's health, in order that his host might have the
power of correcting him. A well-bred host, such as the Professor,
immediately replied by giving his guest a similar opportunity to correct
and in consequence to feel in the superior position.
They now exchanged rather ponderous compliments on their respective
birthdays. But in spite of their politeness I somehow got the impression
that these two beings were in strong antagonism to one another, and that
however much the emotions might be discouraged in Thule, feelings of
jealously still existed.
"On this auspicious occasion," said the Professor, "it is generally my
custom to make you some slight offering. I have placed a power to read a
manuscript to your order at the Central Office."
"I thank you sincerely," said MZ04. "I had intended to do the same
thing, but I think I have found something even more to your taste." He
pointed at me with his booted hand. "Here," he said, "is rather a
curious thing that I have found. You make a study of the old world and
might be interested in it. I have no use for such curios myself and am
happy to present it to you. In many respects--notably in its foolish use
of the erect position--it resembles our second-class beings, but I
believe it to be a genuine old-world relic."
"I am of the same opinion," said the Professor, "and I am obliged to you
for your generosity. Can it talk?"
"Fluently," said MZ04, "but with a bad accent."
I now said very decisively that I was a free man, that I did not belong
to either of them, and that I absolutely declined to be handed as a
slave or a chattel from one to the other. I repeated this in varying
terms more than once. They took not the slightest notice of it, but
waited patiently till I had finished.
"I am busy to-day at the Heat and Light Control," said MZ04. "I fear
that I must now leave you."
"Going to walk?" asked the Professor.
"No. I have taken my exercise for to-day. I shall disintegrate."
Even as I looked at him, his substance became a smoky shadow, shimmering
and vibrating. It grew rapidly fainter and fainter until it had vanished
altogether.