by Ayn Rand
PART SIX
We have not written for thirty days. For thirty days we have not beenhere, in our tunnel. We had been caught. It happened on that night whenwe wrote last. We forgot, that night, to watch the sand in the glasswhich tells us when three hours have passed and it is time to return tothe City Theatre. When we remembered it, the sand had run out.
We hastened to the Theatre. But the big tent stood grey and silentagainst the sky. The streets of the City lay before us, dark and empty.If we went back to hide in our tunnel, we would be found and our lightfound with us. So we walked to the Home of the Street Sweepers.
When the Council of the Home questioned us, we looked upon the faces ofthe Council, but there was no curiosity in those faces, and no anger,and no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked us: "Where have youbeen?" we thought of our glass box and of our light, and we forgot allelse. And we answered:
"We will not tell you."
The oldest did not question us further. They turned to the two youngest,and said, and their voice was bored:
"Take our brother Equality 7-2521 to the Palace of Corrective Detention.Lash them until they tell."
So we were taken to the Stone Room under the Palace of CorrectiveDetention. This room has no windows and it is empty save for an ironpost. Two men stood by the post, naked but for leather aprons andleather hoods over their faces. Those who had brought us departed,leaving us to the two Judges who stood in a corner of the room. TheJudges were small, thin men, grey and bent. They gave the signal to thetwo strong hooded ones.
They tore the clothes from our body, they threw us down upon our kneesand they tied our hands to the iron post. The first blow of the lashfelt as if our spine had been cut in two. The second blow stopped thefirst, and for a second we felt nothing, then the pain struck us in ourthroat and fire ran in our lungs without air. But we did not cry out.
The lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, butwe lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our back. Onlywe felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancingbefore our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill,a grill of red squares, and then we knew that we were looking at thesquares of the iron grill in the door, and there were also the squaresof stone on the walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting uponour back, crossing and re-crossing itself in our flesh.
Then we saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw the redfroth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the Judge asked:
"Where have you been?"
But we jerked our head away, hid our face upon our tied hands, and bitour lips.
The lash whistled again. We wondered who was sprinkling burning coaldust upon the floor, for we saw drops of red twinkling on the stonesaround us.
Then we knew nothing, save two voices snarling steadily, one after theother, even though we knew they were speaking many minutes apart:
"Where have you been where have you been where have you been where haveyou been?..."
And our lips moved, but the sound trickled back into our throat, and thesound was only:
"The light... The light... The light...."
Then we knew nothing.
We opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor of a cell.We looked upon two hands lying far before us on the bricks, and we movedthem, and we knew that they were our hands. But we could not move ourbody. Then we smiled, for we thought of the light and that we had notbetrayed it.
We lay in our cell for many days. The door opened twice each day, oncefor the men who brought us bread and water, and once for the Judges.Many Judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then the mosthonored Judges of the City. They stood before us in their white togas,and they asked:
"Are you ready to speak?"
But we shook our head, lying before them on the floor. And theydeparted.
We counted each day and each night as it passed. Then, tonight, we knewthat we must escape. For tomorrow the World Council of Scholars is tomeet in our City.
It was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention. The locksare old on the doors and there are no guards about. There is no reasonto have guards, for men have never defied the Councils so far as toescape from whatever place they were ordered to be. Our body is healthyand strength returns to it speedily. We lunged against the door andit gave way. We stole through the dark passages, and through the darkstreets, and down into our tunnel.
We lit the candle and we saw that our place had not been found andnothing had been touched. And our glass box stood before us on the coldoven, as we had left it. What matter they now, the scars upon our back!
Tomorrow, in the full light of day, we shall take our box, and leave ourtunnel open, and walk through the streets to the Home of the Scholars.We shall put before them the greatest gift ever offered to men. We shalltell them the truth. We shall hand to them, as our confession, thesepages we have written. We shall join our hands to theirs, and we shallwork together, with the power of the sky, for the glory of mankind. Ourblessing upon you, our brothers! Tomorrow, you will take us back intoyour fold and we shall be an outcast no longer. Tomorrow we shall be oneof you again. Tomorrow...