he shook his head. "What's that?"
"See?" she taunted him. "You don't know everything like you think youdo. Marriage," she explained, "was a sort of cooperative agreementthat the ancient people were supposed to have entered into."
"Sure, just like I said," Mark stated with assurance. "Hundreds ofpeople did it. They got involved in this marriage agreement, and madewar on each other with it."
"What a dope. Marriage was an agreement between just two people. Andthat much I might believe. Hundreds is too much."
"It was hundreds," Mark insisted.
"It was not. It was just two. And what's more, it was between a manand a woman. They lived together with their protobodies and agreed tocooperate together, and they made children and took care of them untilthey grew up."
"Why that's thirty or forty years," Mark exclaimed. "Even the warsdidn't last that long. That's really nonsense. Besides, you can onlymake children in the Decanting Centers. And it's all done bymachines."
"Well, maybe it is a little far fetched. But I think it's cute."
"Humph."
There was a few minutes silence. Then Jennette said softly, "Mark--"
"Yes?"
"Mark, you like me a lot, don't you?"
Mark squirmed uncomfortably, and stared at the artificial moon.
"Don't you?" she insisted. "More than you ever have anybody else?"
"Well, guess that's right," he admitted lamely. "A whole lot more thanI should."
She reassuringly patted his hand with her little one. "That's allright, Mark. I won't tell anybody. Besides, I feel just the same wayabout you."
Mark nodded without speaking, worriedly studying the vague markings onthe bright luminous disk in the simulated sky.
"Mark, don't you ever want to see the real me?" she inquired urgently."Don't you sometimes feel kind of empty because you can never reallyhave me--know me, because all you ever see is a manufactured thingthat only somewhat resembles what I am really like?"
Mark blushed. She had come a little too close to the uncomfortabletruth. But he refused to admit it, at least to her. He mumbled anindistinct denial.
"Are you sure?" she said, grabbing his hands, gazing intently into hiseyes, forcing him to look at her. "Wouldn't you sometime like to comedown to my transmitter quarters?"
"But--"
"And see and touch my protobody--the thing I really am?"
"Aw--"
"Scared?"
"Maybe I am."
"That's silly."
Mark swallowed and said stiffly, "Just because there is a no-fightclause in your invitation tonight doesn't necessarily mean I have tofollow it, you know. You don't need weapons. I could strangle yourprotobody easily."
"You wouldn't," she said confidently.
"You sure don't think much of me, do you?"
"I think just the same of you as you do of me," she said simply.
With impulsive hunger, Mark threw his arms around her, holding hertightly against him, nuzzling her, smelling the perfume of her hair,incoherently mumbling into her ear. "Jennette, Jennette," he sang, "Ithink more of you than anything. I love you. I know it's wrong, but Iwould never even shoot you, because sometimes it hurts you, and Iwouldn't want you to feel even the slightest discomfort." He stopped,took a deep breath, and added meekly, "I'm sorry."
"But Mark," she whispered. "Why is it really so wrong?"
"You know."
"Suppose I told you that this body is my protobody right now?" sheasked earnestly.
"But it isn't."
"It is," she said faintly.
Mark's breath hissed as he gasped. Jennette was blushing all over herbody, heightening the golden color of it. He let her go, and she slidoff his lap onto the shadowed grass beside him. She bit her lip. "Ididn't really mean to tell you--yet."
There was silence. Mark said quietly, "That's all right, Jennette."
"You aren't angry with me, are you?"
"No," he said slowly. "Not angry."
"Mark--"
"Yes?"
"Now that we're into this thing," she asked hopefully, "why don't wetry this marriage agreement--you know, like the ancients did. It seemslike such a beautiful thing to do when two people like us--you know."
"I don't know." Mark shook his head doubtfully. "I just don't knowabout it."
"Why not? You wouldn't have to really stay here. It could be just asecret agreement between us. And you could come and see me wheneveryou liked."
"It all seems so unreal," he muttered.
They lapsed into thought, both avoiding looking at the other. Therewas no sound except a faint sighing of wind in the leaves of the welltrimmed shrubbery.
"Suppose," Mark said finally, "suppose other people started doing thisthing? This cooperative agreement? Lots of people must want to, justlike we do."
"I suppose so," she admitted.
"I went through this once before," he went on absently. "About ninetyyears ago I met this woman--she was awfully nice. Clever. Understoodthings. Not like you, of course, but still she was very nice. Ithought about it then."
"What happened to her?" Jennette asked numbly.
"She died after a while. She was pretty old. Oh, we didn't doanything," he hastened to add. "We kept it all on a perfectly moraland honest plane--never saw each other except at authorized governmentsex parties, like this, and all. Fought whenever we ran across eachother outside. But I remember thinking at the time that some sort ofagreement would be nice. We got along awfully well. I could neverunderstand what she saw in me."
"I can," Jennette whispered.
"This is just the same, only a lot more so," Mark went onthoughtfully. "And it's wrong. You know it's wrong. Suppose a lot ofpeople started it. First thing you know, whole groups of people wouldbe cooperating with each other again. And when they got into troubleoutside, or planned an innocent little raid on somebody's shelter,they would all work together on it. And pretty soon, there would beother groups cooperating in fighting back again. They'd have to.
"And that, of course, would be the end of civilization. Pretty soon,there would be nothing left, and everybody would be dead."
Jennette did not reply when he stopped. She turned her head away, butMark could hear her uneven breathing.
"We have a responsibility toward society at large. We know it. We'vebeen well educated and we aren't savages. Neither one of us can getaway from it. It might be wonderful at first, but our conscience wouldcome out sooner or later, and the whole thing would be ruined."
She rubbed her face with her cupped hands, shaking her head. "Isuppose--" she murmured unhappily.
"You'd hate yourself for it after a while," he said.
For a few minutes, Jennette stared at the grass before her feet,pulling up little blades of it one by one. Then Mark stood up, and sheflashed him a small, wistful, damp smile. Together they walked backtoward the elevator, stepping quietly and almost furtively on the softground. "If it weren't for that--" he started.
"I understand," she replied quickly. Taking hold of his arm, she said,"I'm sorry."
"Sure." Mark grinned affectionately at her. "Come on. Let's see ifthey've been having any good fights upstairs." They stepped into theelevator and disappeared. The artificial moon continued its regularmotion through the simulated sky.
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World Without War Page 4