NEVER AGAIN
I did not see Kwang again until we met some weeks after, in Prisa. He
had begun to suspect that one or two persons in the Foreign Department
had guessed the nature of the rôle he had been playing. There was
practically no evidence against him, because all the information he had
obtained, and it was a great deal, had been furnished to him willingly
by the Meccanian Government under the impression that he had become a
sort of missionary of Meccanian Culture. All the same, as he observed
to me, without arresting him as a spy (a course of procedure which for
many reasons would have been inconvenient to the Government) he might
have been made the victim of an 'accident.' He could no longer play his
part in safety. Anyhow, he succeeded in making his exit in a manner
that aroused no suspicion, and he managed to return to his own country
a short time afterwards. Consequently I need say no more about Kwang.
My own departure was also rather a tame affair. I had an interview,
on the day I received my letter, with Inspector of Foreigners
Bulley. Although I knew that the letter had been censored, and I was
morally certain its contents had been made known to him, he betrayed
no knowledge of the facts. I explained the circumstances and showed
him the letter. I asked if the three days' notice could be dispensed
with, as I wished to leave at the earliest moment. He said I might
possibly leave the day after to-morrow, but not before, as it would
be necessary to see that all my affairs were in order before issuing
the certificate of absolution as it was called--a certificate which
all foreigners must obtain before the issue of the ticket authorising
them to be conveyed across the frontier. There would be a charge of £1
for the extra trouble involved. One little difficulty had not occurred
to me: there might not be a conveyance to Graves, via Bridgetown, for
several days--perhaps not for a week. Inspector Bulley, who had all
such matters at his finger-ends, told me there was no conveyance for
five days by that route, but that he would arrange for me to travel
by another route, via Primburg and Durven, which lay convenient for a
journey to Prisa. After that I could either return home direct or go
first to Lunopolis.
He was sorry my visit had been cut short almost before my serious study
had begun, and hoped I should find it possible to return. He arranged
for me to undergo my necessary medical examination on the afternoon
of the same day, and this turned out to be almost a formality. Dr.
Pincher was much more polite, and much less exacting, than on a former
occasion. Clearly the influence of Kwang--for I was now regarded as a
sort of protégé of his--was evident in all this. Altogether my exit was
made quite pleasant, and I almost began to regret my precipitancy, but
when I reflected on what I had to gain by staying longer I saw that
Kwang was right. I turned over in my mind what I had seen and learnt
during five months. I had seen a provincial town (or some aspects of
it), and the capital, under the close supervision of well-informed
warders. I had talked to a score of officials and a few professors,
and received a vast amount of instruction from them. I had seen a
great public ceremony. I had visited a large number of institutions.
But I had only got into contact with a single native Meccanian who was
free from the influence of the all-pervading Super-State, and this
person was in an asylum only accessible by a dangerous ruse. I knew
little more of the people, perhaps less, than I could have got from
reading a few books; but I had at any rate got an impression of the
Meccanian 'System' which no book could have given me. That impression
was the most valuable result of my tour, but it seemed unlikely that
a further stay would do anything more than deepen it. For unless I
were prepared to play the rôle that Kwang had played I was not likely
to learn anything the Meccanian Government did not wish me to learn,
and, however much I might be sustained by my curiosity, the actual
experience of living in the atmosphere of the Meccanian Super-State was
not pleasant.
I said good-bye to my friends at the hotel, and, after an uneventful
journey by express train, reached Primburg. Except that it bore a
general resemblance to Bridgetown, I can say nothing of it, for we were
not permitted to go out of the station whilst waiting for the motor-van
to take us across the frontier. I say 'us,' because there were about
half a dozen other travellers. The fact that not more than half a dozen
persons a week travelled from Mecco to Prisa--for this was the main
route to the capital of Francaria--was in itself astounding. Even of
these, three looked like persons on official business. At Primburg
I was spared the indignity of a further medical examination, as I
had already obtained the necessary certificate from Dr. Pincher, but
nothing could exempt me from the examination which all foreigners had
to submit to in order to ensure that they carried nothing out of the
country except by leave of the chief inspector of Foreign Observers.
My journal had been entrusted to Kwang, and I had nothing else of any
importance. I was thoroughly searched, and my clothes and my baggage
were closely examined by an official called the Registrar of Travellers.
Although I had spent a considerable time in Francaria I had never
before seen Durven. There was now no reason for hurrying on to Prisa,
so I decided to spend a day there to look round. I had to report myself
to the police, owing to the fact that I had arrived from Meccania,
but my credentials proving perfectly satisfactory I was at liberty to
go where I liked. It was about four o'clock when I stepped out of the
police station, and as it was a bright September afternoon there was
still time to walk about for some hours before dark. At first, for
about an hour, I could hardly help feeling that I was dreaming. Here I
was in the old familiar life of Europe again. The streets of the town
seemed full of people, some sauntering about and gossiping with their
friends, others shop-gazing, others carrying parcels containing their
purchases, some making their way home from business, others standing in
groups near the theatres. There were tram-cars and omnibuses and all
sorts of vehicles jostling in the central part of the town. A little
later I saw people streaming out from a popular _matinée_. There were
old men selling the first issues of the evening papers, and crying some
sensational news which was not of the slightest importance but which
somehow seemed good fun.
I was delighted with everything I saw. It was a positive joy not to see
any green uniforms, nor any grey uniforms, nor any yellow uniforms.
Green and grey and yellow are beautiful colours, but the plain black
of the civilian dress of the men in the streets of Durven seemed
pleasanter, and the costumes of the women seemed positively beautiful.
There were children walking with their mothers, and little urchins
racing about in the side streets. I could have laughed with joy at the
sight of them: I had seen no children for five months, only little
future-Meccanians. There were old women selling flowers. I wondered if
they were poor; they looked fat and happy at any rate, and they were
free to sell flowers or do anything else they liked. I turned into a
café. A little band was playing some rollicking frivolous music that
I recognised. I remembered some of my former friends making sarcastic
remarks about this kind of music. It was not good music, yet it made
me feel like laughing or dancing. There was such a babel of talk I
could hardly hear the band. Not that I wanted to! I was quite content
to hear the happy voices round me, to watch the simple comedies of
human intercourse, and to feel that I was out of prison. I strolled out
again. This time I looked at the streets themselves, at the buildings
and houses and shops. I dived down a side street or two and found
myself by the river among little wharves and docks, all on the tiniest
scale. The streets were rather untidy and not too clean; the houses
were irregularly built. I was in the old town apparently. As I walked
farther I noticed that by far the greater part of the town had been
built during the last fifty years or so, yet the place looked as if
it were trying to preserve the appearance of age. At another time I
should probably have thought the town rather dull and uninteresting,
for there was nothing noteworthy about it. If there had once been any
genuine mediæval churches or guild halls or places of architectural
interest they must have been destroyed, yet I discovered a strange joy
and delight in everything I saw.
After dark, when I had dined at the little hotel where I was to sleep
that night, I went off at once to the nearest theatre, which happened
to be a music hall. I laughed at the turns until people looked at me
to see if I were drunk or demented. When they saw I was only a little
excited they made good-humoured remarks. They were rather pleased that
I should be so easily amused. "Perhaps he has just come out of prison,"
said one; "no doubt it is rather dull there." "Perhaps he is a friend
of one of the actors," said another, "and wants to encourage him."
"Perhaps he has come from the land where jokes are prohibited," said a
third. "Perhaps he is a deaf man who has recovered his hearing," said
another. "Or a blind man who has recovered his sight." "Anyhow, he
knows how to enjoy himself." Such were the remarks they made.
When I came out I strolled about the streets until after midnight. It
seemed so jolly to be able to go just where one pleased.
In the morning I looked up the trains to Prisa and found that I
could reach it in a few hours. So I decided to spend the morning in
Durven and go on to Prisa in the afternoon. I strolled into the open
market-place. How strange it seemed! People in all sorts of simple
costumes were going round to the various stalls picking up one thing
here and another there. The usual little comedies of bargaining were
going on. There were all sorts of trifles for sale, including toys for
children--real toys, not disguised mathematical problems, or exercises
in mechanical ingenuity. There were dolls and rattles and hoops and
balls and whistles and fishing-rods and marbles and pegtops and dolls'
houses and furniture and bricks and a hundred things besides. Then
there were gingerbread stalls, ice-cream stalls, cocoa-nut shies,
swings and even a little merry-go-round. I felt I should like to ride
on that merry-go-round, but as it was early in the forenoon there were
only a few children--good heavens! what were children doing here? They
ought to have been at school, or at any rate being instructed in the
use of Stage II. B toys. I turned into the street where the best shops
were. Even the grocers' shops looked interesting. There were goods from
all over the world. There were cheeses packed in dainty little cases,
and dates in little boxes covered with pictures; tea in packets and
canisters representing absurd Chinamen and Hindoo coolies. The clothing
shops were full of the latest fashions, although this was a small
provincial town; and very dainty and charming they looked. Then there
were antique shops and bric-à-brac shops, print shops and jewellers'
shops. I could have spent days wandering about like a child at a fair.
I had never realised before that the meanest European town--outside
Meccania--is a sort of perennial bazaar.
I tore myself away, and after luncheon took train to Prisa. The
confusion and bustle at the stations was delightful; the chatter of the
passengers was most entertaining. There were people in shabby clothes
and people in smart costumes. There were ticket-collectors and guards
in rather dirty-looking uniforms, and an occasional gendarme who looked
as if he had come off the comic-opera stage. The villages on the route
were like the villages I had seen before in Europe--fragments of bygone
ages mixed up with the latest devices in farm buildings and model
cottages; churches built in the twelfth century and post offices built
in the twentieth; mediæval barns and modern factories. At length we
reached Prisa, which needs no description from me.
It looked like an old friend, and I lost no time in resuming the habits
I had adopted during my previous stay. I looked up some of my old
acquaintances, and we spent days in endless talk about everything under
the sun. What a delight it was to read the newspapers, no matter how
silly they were! How delightful to hear the latest gossip about the
latest political crisis, the latest dramatic success, the latest social
scandal, the latest literary quarrel! In a week or two I had almost
forgotten the existence of Meccania. I had seen nothing to remind me of
it. I began to understand why the people in Francaria and Luniland were
so ignorant of that country. Why should they bother their heads about
it? It seemed to me now like a bad dream, a nightmare. They were quite
right to ignore it, to forget it. And yet, suppose Meccania should
startle Europe again? And with a chemical war this time! Would they be
able to escape? Or would the Super-Insects finally conquer the human
race? I confess I felt some doubt. It seemed not impossible that the
nightmare I had escaped from was a doom impending over the whole world.
And it is because I could not dismiss this doubt that I have written a
faithful account of what I saw and heard in Meccania, the Super-State.
Transcriber's note
Text in italics was surrounded by _underscores_, and text in all
capitals changed to all capitals.
The following corrections have been made, on page
xvii "n" changed to "in" (in the manner of a mere spectator)
17 "chocolate- coloured" changed to "chocolate-coloured" (with
chocolate-coloured buttons)
40 "t at" changed to "that" (but that the Organising Inspectors)
48 "death sand" changed to "deaths and" (births, deaths and
marriages)
161 , added (unmeaning to a Meccanian, the Meccanians must have lost)
212 " removed (and much more besides.)
221 "pr fessions" changed to "professions" (all the functions of
the independent professions)
221 "he told" changed to "the old" (That is the old argument)
270 "be" changed to "he" (Clearly he belonged to another generation.)
278 "this" changed to "these" (these two years opened my eyes).
Otherwise the original was preserved, including inconsistent spelling
and hyphenation.