A sudden, vivid image of a golf club, glinting in the sun as it
slashed down in a vicious arc toward a limp figure on the green,
jolted Hendley. The defenses which he had built up with drink and
reason to contain that demoralizing reality abruptly shattered. "There
was something else," he said soberly. "Maybe you can help me--it's
something that happened today in a game. It--it's hard to believe, but
it _did_ happen!"
He recounted the incident as rationally as he could, trying to keep
his voice steady. The young man's face failed to register the shock or
disbelief Hendley had expected. As he listened the youth fingered his
glass and pursed his lips. His expression was grave, but that might
have been only in deference to Hendley's obvious emotion. When Hendley
had finished, the young man's sole comment was to raise his glass to
his lips and drink.
"Don't tell me that sort of thing happens every day!" Hendley
protested, stung by the lack of response.
"Hardly," the other replied. "Though golf bugs are pretty
unpredictable, and it's true about going into the game at your own
risk. But murder is frowned upon, of course, even in golf."
"_Frowned_ upon!"
"Oh, yes. We're not all barbarians here." The young man smiled.
"Isn't there something that can be done? Aren't there any
Investigators--any penalties?"
The young man's tone was cool. "We are the free," he said. When Hendley
continued to stare at him, he explained, "Oh, your bald friend went too
far. There's no denying that. And he won't get away with much of that
conduct. The community will take care of him. We have our own ways. But
you must see that what you're suggesting--Investigators, penalties,
courts of order, that sort of thing--is quite out of place here."
"But there has to be some order! Violence, murder--such things are
unheard of outside!"
His companion smiled again indulgently. "Isn't everything we have here
unheard of outside?"
Hendley had no answer. The Freeman's casual acceptance of equally
casual crime was another shock. Yet he could not argue with the simple
assertion that freedom did not admit arbitrary external controls, even
those guaranteeing order and safety. But perhaps--he grasped the young
man's passing reference with a kind of desperation--such methods as
group pressure, ostracism, some form of social coercion did work. They
must. Otherwise....
"You have a lot to learn," the young man said.
"I guess I have," Hendley said, shaking his head.
"Tell me," the other said abruptly. "That red emblem on your sleeve--it
means you're a visitor, doesn't it?"
"Yes. I was told no one would know."
"I guessed. I've seen that emblem before, always on strangers. And
they've always disappeared quickly. It wasn't hard to figure out. How
long are you here for?"
"Just till noon tomorrow."
"You need someone to show you around, give you the guided tour. Someone
to help you keep things in perspective."
Hendley was not sure whether or not the diffident remark was an
offer. "I'll admit I wasn't very well briefed," he said. "The Morale
Investigator who got me this visiting privilege didn't tell me much."
"Of course not," the Freeman said. "They don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that. Few outsiders are allowed in here. There aren't as many
exceptions as you might think. Chances are your Investigator doesn't
know anything more about freedom than you did before you came here. He
only knows what it's supposed to be."
"But there are official personnel right here who aren't free--in the
administration building, for instance."
"They're not allowed into the camp proper. They can't even see into it.
And the underground service facilities are connected only to windowless
buildings on the surface. But just to make sure, those people are all
on life tenure here. They're 1-Daymen without much time to go, and
they don't go back to the cities." The young man's lips curved in a
reflective smile. "Funny, isn't it? The whole Organization is dedicated
to getting into a Freeman Camp, but no one outside has any idea what
it's really like." He laughed outright. "We did have a kind of official
tour once--before the Merger. Bunch of Easterners being given the high
level treatment. We all put on a good show for them. But they didn't
see what it's _really_ like. You've got to know your way around for
that."
"I guess you know your way around."
"I ought to. I've never been out."
"Never?" Hendley exclaimed, startled.
"I was born here."
The brief statement carried a world of significance. Born free! Never
to have known work, worry, regimentation, routine, discipline. Never to
have wanted anything. Never to have breathed the sterile, chemically
purified air of the underground cities, never to have been contained
in the blind-walled towers, never to have been deprived of the sun and
the stars! Hendley thought of childhood with the parks and the trees
and the sunlight--delightful prelude to a whole lifetime of leisure
and play, with every whim or need indulged, catered to, satisfied. No
wonder the young man wore his Freeman status with such nonchalance!
"It must have been a wonderful life," he said, awed by the prospect.
"I guess you'd say so. Sure," the Freeman said composedly. "But I never
thought of it that way."
"Your parents were both here when you were born?"
"Uh-huh."
"Then you grew up with them." Hendley felt a different envy. "I was
taken away from mine after the first few years. I hardly remember them.
That's the way it's done outside. I didn't see much of them after I was
six. From then on it was schools, work training--you never had that."
"Oh, I had schools," the young Freeman protested. "The best. Nothing's
too good for a Freeman, you know." He laughed. "Those school
computers--they tried to drill it into us. I guess I didn't learn as
much as I should have, but I was exposed to it, anyway. As for my
parents, I never saw much of them. They were always too busy getting
their jolts. This was all new to them when I was a kid. Like with you."
"Jolts?"
"Laughies. Fun. Pleasure-pures. You know."
"Are they still here? I mean--alive?"
"They're around somewhere," the young man said indifferently. "I saw
the old boy on a hunt about six or seven suns ago."
"A hunt! That's where that girl--" Hendley broke off. "I heard someone
talking about a hunting party. What's that all about?"
"You don't know about the hunt?" The young man looked at Hendley oddly.
"No. How could I?"
"That's right." The Freeman hesitated. "We'll get to the hunt later.
First you have to get the dimensional view--you, with depth. Behind the
scenes. And I'm just the little Freeman who can push the right buttons.
How about it?"
"I'm with you."