“These babies, grown under ideal conditions, the offspring of tested ovaries, have in a thousand years saved our race from degeneration. In fact, now everybody is nearly perfect in practically every way. There’s little sickness and people finally die painlessly of old age. Of course we haven’t a very large population, but what we have is composed of very fine individuals.”
At this point Elizabeth Sellers jumped to her feet as she exclaimed, “And yet in spite of the perfection no one is really happy!”
“That’s it exactly!” agreed the young man. “There’s been no trouble in making a living, everybody is comfortably housed and clothed, there’s no sickness, food is abundant, everybody is doing some interesting work—and yet no one is happy! We saw that years ago and we know now that it is true.”
The young woman sat down again and snuggled close to the man.
“Tell me again why they aren’t happy. I’ve heard it before but tell me again. I want to hear it out here in the wilderness where we’re alone—together.”
The man put his arm around her and drew her close to him, and his voice had the soft tenderness of a breeze in the springtime, as it scatters pollen.
“They aren’t happy because love has disappeared from the world. When children grow up now, they have only permit parents. They think they’re falling in love when they enter into a companionate marriage. All they do is share the same house during the hours they’re not working. After they’ve accomplished all their ambitions, they try to satisfy their desires for a family by securing a baby permit and a child. The child can be of any age when it’s taken into their home. A child may be from the ovary of a woman who has been dead three hundred years. It’s a child that never had a father. The man and woman pretend that it’s their child but all the time they know that it isn’t true and so does the child. The four-year-old baby your relatives are adopting this week can think and talk. Can it believe that this man and woman love it when they let it stay in a government nursery for four years without claiming it?
“There has been a surplus of women who have served as nurses. Your sister will do nothing for her child except supervise its care by three experienced women who know a thousand times more about child culture than she does. The child will grow up to be intelligent, strong, and beautiful, but it will grow up in an atmosphere devoid of love. A man and woman who are married the way they are, in this period of civilization, don’t know how to love a child because they never loved each other.”
“But what is love, anyway?” asked the young woman.
“Love is sacrifice!” was the reply. “That seems to be the only definition. I have read the old books and when people in those old days were in love they always had to sacrifice themselves. A boy and a girl in love with each other waited for years till the time came when they could marry. They gave up their ambitions, their future, their success in life so they could marry. For years most of them felt, what was called in those days, ‘the pinch of poverty’. There was sickness and constant work and struggle for the necessities of life. The love life centered around the house they lived in and they called this house a home. This is a word that disappeared from the English language years ago, centuries ago, when it was destroyed by the automobile, the aeroplane, and moving picture, to say nothing of the companionate marriage.
“They lived in a house that they called a home and they had children and every additional child made life harder. Knowing nothing about infant care they had to learn to raise babies and tend them. The little things were often sick. The father worked all day and helped care for the children at night and the mother never ceased work. The children died and the men had to borrow money to bury them. That was before universal government cremation. Often the wives died and left the men with children, with little babies one day old; or the husbands died and left the wife to struggle on till the children grew old enough to help. Everything in that life meant sacrifice and out of that sacrifice grew the thing the old poets called love. It was so very different from what we call love today.”
“You know so much about the old love,” whispered the girl.
“That is because I have read of it. At its best it was a beautiful emotion and at its worst it was worthwhile. It made existence human. They lived like animals but they worshipped each other as though they were Gods. They were hungry and destitute and poor and sick and weary but when they faced the sunset of life together, they were happy—because they had sacrificed everything together and as a result of this sacrifice they had found love. Their house was often poorly furnished and a place of much hardship but it was a home. Their babies were sick, cross, and a constant care, but they were their own flesh and blood. When a man wrote about love in those days you knew he was happy in spite of everything.
“It is difficult for a young man like me to tell whether all that has happened is for the betterment of mankind. We are taught by the Educators that at the present time we are in a Golden Age. The factors that made life hard for the human race twenty centuries ago have all been disposed of. We no longer have disease, hunger, poverty, or crime. All know about such hardships is learned from our ancient histories. Every detail of our life is provided for so that we can obtain the maximum of satisfaction for a minimum of effort. Nothing has been neglected.
“Yet you and I have fled from it all. Why? Simply because we wanted something modern civilization refused to grant us. For some reason we became, even as children, atavistic. We wanted to live like the savages of twenty centuries ago. We wanted to toss aside every invention that had made life a luxuriant certainty and take our chance with the animals and the birds. Scorning a house with electrical appliances of all kinds, radio, television, monoplanes, synthetic food, central heat, and amusements of every kind furnished by the Central Board of Education and Amusement, we have determined to make a home out of this cave. We know there is water down in the brook; there is such a thing as fire and all around us is wood in the shape of trees. Somewhere near us there must be food, the kind our ancestors ate, meat and vegetables. If that fails, we have enough synthetic food to last us a year, but just as soon as we can, we must change our diet. These books I brought tell how to cook with fire. We shall have to make some furniture and somehow make some kind of receptacles to cook in. Every day we’ll be doing a dozen things that no man or woman has done for a thousand, fifteen hundred years. No doubt we shall do them poorly and clumsily at first. Still we have brains and books to instruct us in these ancient arts. We shall have to keep busy to prepare for the cold weather.”
“It will be a lot of fun,” said Elizabeth, though her tone did not indicate anything but the most serious mood. “It will be real sport to work out all these problems and learn to do all these new things that were so usual and commonplace centuries ago. It thrills me to know that I’ll soon be doing things that no woman has done for so many hundreds of ears. Over eight hundred years ago it was found that synthetic meat could be made so easily that it didn’t pay to keep animals for food any longer, so they were all turned loose. Their ancestors were carefully housed and fed to give mankind meat, milk, shoes, and clothes and now their descendants roam over the deserted farm lands in large herds. I’m glad that we came. It’s good to know that our vision has become a reality. I know that I’ll never be sorry.”
They talked on and on till the moon came up and finally they talked themselves to sleep out on the rock and did not realize what had happened till they awoke the next morning, stiff and sore from their cramped position and hard stone couch, but very happy because they had each other and the cave was to become a home and they felt an emotion which they knew was the old kind of love.
* * * *
The librarian of the Congressional Library received the report that certain books had been stolen from the shelves. He was also notified that the assistant watchman had disappeared. Going to the card index of individualities, he was not at all surprised to find that Elizabeth Sellers, No. 237,841, had disappeared at the same time. He removed her
card from the files, also the card of the watchman, Leuson Hubler, No. 230,900. After that he spent hours carefully going over the pages of a small book in which he had kept some very personal records in pen and ink, something that at most only a dozen living men were able to do, for the art of penmanship had disappeared with the invention of the psychophone, an instrument that directly transferred and preserved the thoughts of a person, so that at any time in the future the small glass cylinder could be inserted into a radio and repeat the thought. This machine had completely supplanted the pen and typewriter in the commercial, literary, and educational life. Only a few of the savants were able to write, so the librarian was perfectly safe in using that method to preserve his observations concerning No. 237,841 and No. 230,900.
After a week had passed he called on Dr. Gowers and his wife. He was nearly thirty years older than they, but had often seen them socially, and admired them very much, especially for their ability to follow a certain line of investigation to its ultimate ending. In fact, he often stated that when these two were finished with the study of any problem, there was nothing more to do on the subject.
He found a charming family group out on the well kept lawn. There were the Doctor and his wife and three matronly ladies who wore the uniform of trained nurses, and they were all paying the greatest attention to a little girl who was playing with a rubber ball. Dr. Gowers welcomed him cordially.
“I’m so glad you’ve come,” he said. “I want you to see our little girl Lilith. We’ve just taken her out on a permit and I’m sure you’ll agree with me that she’s far above the average for a four-year-old child. Having her with us has made the disappearance of Elizabeth easier to bear.”
“Is Elizabeth gone?” asked the librarian, in pretended surprise.
“She certainly has!” replied Dr. Helen Gowers. “She and a boy that was working in your library went up a week ago for an air-ride and never came back.”
“Is that so? Perhaps they had an accident.”
“No, indeed. You know as well as I that the last accident to a plane happened over five hundred years ago. No! They didn’t come back, for the reason that they wanted to stay away. Elizabeth took a lot of her clothes and jewels with her. They were married in Pittsburgh on forged permits.”
“Why I never heard of such a thing!” exclaimed the librarian.
“Neither has anyone else. Such a thing has not happened for over a thousand years. I had a hard time before I was able to find out what such a thing was called. Its name was elopement. It has been so easy for young people to enter into a companionate marriage and everybody is so glad to help and encourage them to marry, that anything like this just never was thought possible.”
“I confess that I can’t understand it,” interrupted Dr. Gowers. “We tried to be like parents to Elizabeth and I’m sure if she and Leuson had only come to us, we should have been glad to listen and help them apply for their preliminary treatment and marriage license. Of course, things might have been delayed for a few months by Elizabeth’s operation, but her pension from that would have made it very easy for them to live the rest of their lives.”
“The action of some lower animal,” said the librarian.
“That’s just what makes us feel so bad,” said the wife. “They just went off like two animals. I only hope that they’ll come to their senses and return for a pardon, which I’m sure will be granted. Perhaps they’ll have logical explanation for their conduct. Have you time to come into the house? I want you to listen to the daily program I’ve arranged for these three nurses who are going to care for Lilith under my supervision. I’ve filled twelve psychophonic cylinders with my orders and I believe that it can serve as a perfect example of correct child culture. It may be good enough to place us in the National Educational Department.”
“Of course,” added the proud husband and father, “you understand that this is our first child and we have had her for only four days. Helen is so capable and enthusiastic and confident about her ability that she feels she has already added to the knowledge of the world by preparing this program.”
“I’m sure,” said the librarian suavely, “that she will make a perfect mother, and just as soon as I can, I’ll drop in for the evening and listen to the twelve records. Just now I shall have to fly back to the library. I’m very sorry about your sister. If you hear anything of her, be sure to let me know.”
However he did not go back to the library; instead he went to see the head of the Biological Maternity Units. The two men had been fast friends for many years. He spent several hours in conference, and when he finally returned to his office, he tingled with a strange enthusiasm such as he had not experienced for many years.
After that there was nothing for him to do but wait, which he did with a very definite impatience.
* * * *
It was late autumn; to be exact, it was the last day of November. The librarian, who lived amid his treasures, was listening to a psychophonic lecture on the latest evidence of life on the planet Venus; at least he was pretending to listen, but most of the time he was asleep. He was suddenly aroused and saw a man seated in a chair nearby. He looked at him a moment and then jumped to his feet.
“By the Seven Sacred Caterpillars! If it isn’t Leuson Hubler! My dear boy, where did you come from and where have you been?”
The young man smiled as he asked, “Did our disappearance cause much of a sensation?”
“Not much. The Gowers were so powerful that they kept it out of the daily radio news transmission service. Elizabeth’s sister feels the disgrace keenly.”
“I believe that. Well, we’re safe and so far having a wonderful time, but I just had to have some things I couldn’t make and I knew they were in your museum, so, considering you are to blame for it all, I made up my mind to come and ask you for them. I want an ax, a saw, a hatchet, several iron kettles, a frying pan, a rifle, some ammunition, and—oh—a lot of things that we shall need to get through the winter.”
“I hardly know what you’re talking about,” said the librarian, “but if you know what you want and can recognize them, I’ll give you everything. But where in the world are you?”
“We’re living in a cave.”
“Like a pair of toads?”
“No! Like Gods! We are savages, if you know what that means. We went back to the age of the Troglodytes. You are to blame for it all. You had me taught how to read and gave me a position where all the old books were available. You even picked out ancient love stories and urged me to study them. It was you who first introduced me to the novels of Henry Cecil, such as The Adorable Fool, Wanderers in Spain, and The Passionate Lover. You urged me to dust and read Prue and I and Reveries of a Bachelor, and in the field of poetry you advised Idylls of the King and Songs of a Spanish Lover. I read those books when a boy and they changed me. And when I met Elizabeth Sellers, I met a girl who was willing to listen to something different and this is the result; so if it has been a sin and a crime to do what we have done, you are to blame”
The old librarian smiled. “Everything you say is true but it is only a part of the truth. It has all been a wonderful experiment but the details had to be kept from both of you; otherwise you would not have been free agents; but before I tell you about it, let me assure you that I, at least, do not think that you have done anything wrong. Now this is what happened.
“About thirty-six years ago I had a daughter, and the same year my friend, the head of the Biological Maternity Units, also took a little baby from the nurseries. The two girls were of the same age and almost grew up together, as we were living next door to each other. We thought it would be a fine thing to give them a liberal education and so, by the time they reached fifteen years of age, they knew a great deal and more than was good for them. They were beautiful women, and they had some very beautiful and impracticable ideas. They were both in love with two nice young men who, unfortunately, were also more or less dreamers.
“At the time of the yearly examinatio
n of the young women to select material for additional ovamaters to supply synthetic babies, these two young women passed a wonderful examination and were ordered to the operating room. They would have been pensioned so liberally that they could have married and lived comfortably the rest of their lives. What really happened was that they both committed suicide the night before the operation. You may not be familiar with that word, so I will tell you that it means to kill oneself. We were all so shocked—it was so unusual, that we kept the matter quiet; but it made a deep impression on my friend and myself. We talked the tragedy over and hastily decided to make what amends we could. Secretly, my friend operated on their bodies before we sent them to the National Crematory, and then he started to grow their children. It was my idea that he should continue with this work till he produced two children, a boy and a girl, and then destroy the two ovamaters.
“This was done, and as soon as I could do so I applied for a baby and selected you. In order to avoid suspicion, we arranged to have the girl placed with the Sellers family. They had one daughter and wanted another. Unfortunately the parents died before the little girl was mature and part of her care was assumed by her sister, who was married to Dr. Gowers. But the sister was so busy with her experiments that she did not have much time to spend on the little one and she just ran wild, most of the time with you. The escapades of you two children nearly drove us all frantic—for example, the time you broke the time record for a nonstop flight around the world, following the equator. Still, thanks to my early training, you wanted to be with books more than anything else, and Elizabeth was always willing to hear you talk and believed all you told her. You seemed rather slow, so I had Elizabeth put on the list for operation. That caused the explosion. My dear old friend, who is a sort of grandfather to Elizabeth, is as pleased as can be about it all. He feels that it is a wonderful atonement to two dead women and a splendid and unique experiment in biology. Without your knowing it, we gave you a chance to be happy. It is no wonder you say that you have been living like Gods.”
The Twelfth Golden Age of Science Fiction MEGAPACK™: David H. Keller, M.D. Page 3