For Us, the Living

by Robert A. Heinlein

Bernard backed toward the door, hastily grabbing his belt as he did so. As he opened the door, Diana stopped him. “Bernard!”

  “Yes?”

  “You won’t do anything?”

  “Do anything? I’ll have to report it.” He slid through the door and closed it. Diana burst into tears. Perry stared at her.

  “What did he mean by that?”

  Between sobs she explained. “He’s going to report you for violating a major custom. And then they’ll come and take you away, and you’ll have to be examined to find out what they’ll do with you.” She burst into tears again. “Oh, Perry, why did you strike him? Oh dear, oh dear, we were so happy.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “There’s nothing to do.”

  “Do you think I’m going to sit here and let that young punk send the police after me on a measly assault and battery charge? Say, can I take the air car?”

  She turned in sudden alarm. “Perry! You’re not going away?”

  “Why not? I can be miles away before they get here. Then when this quiets down I’ll get in touch with you.”

  “Perry, don’t think of it. You couldn’t stay in hiding. You’d be picked up the minute you tried to use your credit account. It’s impossible and it would just make things worse.”

  The visephone light glowed. Automatically Diana answered it. The image of a kindly looking woman with a brisk official manner appeared in the screen. “Office of Public Safely at Truckee. Are you Diana 160-398-400-48A?” Diana nodded, too miserable to speak. “Is there a citizen there called Perry?” Another nod. “Let me speak with him, please.” Defiantly Perry placed himself in range. “You are Perry?”

  “Yes.”

  “We are informed by Bernard 593-045-823-56G that you experienced a major atavism today involving an antisocial violence. Do you recall anything of that nature?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel now? Any impulse to break custom?”

  “I’m all right.”

  “That’s good. The field investigators will be along shortly. Can you arrange to come along with them today?”

  “I have to, don’t I?”

  “It would be better. A quick investigation is always more satisfactory.”

  “They’ll find me here. I’ll come.”

  She smiled. “That’s sensible. You’ll be well in time. Very well, then—Clearing.” Her image faded.

  For the next half hour a morose silence filled the room. Diana hesitated to speak and Perry was busy with his own unhappy thoughts. Finally came the door signal for which each had been uneasily but impatiently waiting. Diana opened the door and admitted two pleasant, clean cut young chaps. One of them spoke. “You’re Diana? And you must be Perry. Truckee safety Office. I’m Bill; this is Leslie. Believe there’s a service to do you?”

  Perry made a wry face. “You could call it that.” The second young man looked anxious and stepped forward.

  “How do you feel, buddy? Need any immediate treatment?” He glanced at his partner, who answered.

  “No trauma or gross lesions. Let’s check your pulse. Hm—a little high, nothing startling.”

  Perry pulled his wrist away. “Cut it out. I’m all right.”

  “Okay. I don’t like to give a sedative before the preliminary examination. That pulse won’t hurt you. Got everything you need? Let’s go.” Diana donned a tunic. “You coming too, sister? Okay.”

  Shortly thereafter Perry found himself being ushered alone into an office in the Truckee Civic Hall. He was greeted by the occupant, a middle-aged, grey haired black man, who thumbed through a stack of papers and presented him with a sheet. “Here’s a resumé of the report about you. Look it over.” Perry glanced over the paper and handed it back. The official looked inquiringly at him.

  “Any truth in it?”

  “Do I have to answer questions? Don’t I get to see counsel?”

  “Why certainly, if you wish. But it saves unpleasant delay and mistakes if the state knows the facts at once.”

  “Oh well, I don’t deny it. The report is correct as far as the general facts go.”

  “Very well then. We can skip the preliminary examination in that case. Consider yourself remanded for examination and disposition. Will tomorrow be satisfactory?”

  “Good Lord, you seem in an awful hurry. When do I see my counsel?”

  “You needn’t be examined so soon, if you object. Who is your counsel? I’ll have him sent in.”

  “I don’t know any.”

  “Very well. I’ll assign one.” He touched a button and Perry was shown out. In the course of the next two hours he was assigned to a room (cheerful, clean, reasonably comfortable), given a card of special customs to read, weighed, measured, photographed, blood tests made, fluoroscoped, metabolic rate checked, and a dozen other items of clinical examination performed. When he was finally back in his room, tired and extremely confused, he sat down and tried to order his thoughts.

  The door light glowed and an attendant entered, grinned and uttered the formal, “Service.”

  “Service,” answered Perry. “What do you want?”

  “Here’s your menu. Check off what you want. You wanta eat here or in the refectory?”

  “Here, I guess. Say, what is this joint; a hotel, a jail, or a hospital?”

  “It’s a detention center. Say, ain’t everything been all right? You want anything?”

  “No, thanks. Can I televue someplace? I need to get a message out.”

  “Sure, it’s in that panel there by the window.”

  “Thanks.” The attendant left and Perry tried to call Diana. There was no answer. He tried a second time and desisted to answer the door light. Diana stood in the door. Presently she disentangled her arms from about his neck and he saw that she was accompanied. Her companion was a spare intellectual man of about thirty-five who greeted Perry cordially. Diana introduced them.

  “Perry, this is Master Joseph. He’s here to help you. He’s your counsel.”

  “Well, young fellow, if what Diana tells me can be considered as objectively correct, you have one of the strangest cases I’ve ever dealt with.” In a few minutes Master Joseph had put Perry at ease and had drawn out of him the salient details of the event that had landed him where he now was. Then he inquired into the past few weeks of his life and the incredible story of his renascence. The talk turned to Perry’s life in the twentieth century. Master Joseph seemed to have an inexhaustible curiosity concerning the social customs of that period, the beliefs men lived by, and Perry’s opinions of the mores of both periods. While they talked, Perry’s dinner arrived and he expressed embarrassment that he could not invite them to eat. Joseph answered that he could, if he wished, and signaled the attendant. After dinner the talk continued. Perry asked him what his chances were. Joseph considered this.

  “Well, you are undoubtedly in violation of a basic custom. The Court will be sure to find affirmatively.”

  “What’s the punishment?”

  “Punishment?” Joseph’s eyebrows raised. “There is no punishment. You have several serious psychological blockages and you will be requested to submit to treatment.”

  “What kind of treatment?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever your attending psychiatrists prescribe.”

  “Psychiatrists? What the hell? Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “No, but I think you are badly in need of reorientation by psychiatry.”

  “What does a lawyer know of psychiatry?”

  “I’m not a lawyer. I’m a psychiatrist.”

  “Then why were you sent to me as counsel?”

  “Lawyers aren’t private counsels. Those in court work are technical assistants to the court. I’ll get one to see you if you wish, but he probably won’t be much help. A lawyer is likely to regard any irregularity as most irregular—which it is of course.” He grinned. “My advice is not to worry and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll order a sedative for you. No, Diana, you’d better not stay toni
ght. I want him to rest.” He arose to go and studied the evening sky through the window while Perry and Diana said good night.

  VII

  Shortly after breakfast Perry was interviewed at length by a board of five psychiatrists. Joseph was present and facilitated the work. The talk seemed inconsequential. At one point one of them engaged him in an animated discussion of the effect of the invention of flying on the logistic problem in warfare. For some reason the others seemed to follow this discussion with interest. Another inquired into some details of customs or ‘rates’ observed by midshipmen, and as to what extent a midshipman’s life differed socially from that of a civilian student. By lunch time they seemed satisfied and adjourned.

  Perry’s trial was set for fourteen o’clock. It turned out to be anticlimactic. On counsel’s advice he stipulated the facts in the complaint and requested a trial without jury. The examining judge found affirmatively and read the findings of the psychiatric board. Then he spoke to Perry:

  “Young man, according to the board you are for all practical purposes unacquainted with our customs in the field of social correction. In the terms you are familiar with you have been found guilty and I am about to pass sentence. In other terms familiar to you, you have been diagnosed and found to be sick and I am about to prescribe for your illness. You don’t have to take your medicine unless you want to, but I hope you will. The findings of the board are encouraging if somewhat startling, and I think you will have a complete recovery.”

  “May it please the Court?”

  “May it what? Oh yes, surely. Go ahead.”

  “What is the alternative to taking treatment?”

  “The alternative is Coventry, by which I mean that you will be delivered to the gate of a reservation set aside for non-cooperative individuals, along with your credit turned into any chattels you choose. Or, if you prefer, you may emigrate to any country willing to receive you.”

  “What happens if I enter Coventry?”

  “You must enter the gate. What happens thereafter is no concern of the state.”

  “How long must I stay in the reservation?”

  The judge shrugged his shoulders and did not reply.

  “I’ll take treatment. I was simply curious about the other.”

  “Very good. I see from the report that certain typical moral reactions may be expected from you with a general classification of aristocratic. Do you recognize my authority?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “I am going to ask you to make me a promise. You need not if you prefer not to. I want you to promise that you will refrain from doing any violence to any person whatsoever including yourself for any reason whatsoever until you are pronounced cured or until you come to me and tell me that you withdraw your word. Will you do it?”

  “That’s fair enough. I promise.”

  “Good. I want to parole you to someone not in need of treatment himself. Who is your next friend?”

  Perry looked disconcerted. “Why, I don’t believe I have any.” As he spoke, Diana stepped forward. The judge smiled.

  “Is she your next friend?” They both nodded. “Very well then, you must understand that she is responsible to me that the instructions of this court are carried out.” He turned to Diana. “Take him to the State Correction Hospital at Tahoe. The Chief Clerk will help you with the details. That’s all. Goodbye and good luck.”

  In the air car Diana set the controls and turned to Perry with anxious concern in her eyes. “Well, darling, how do you feel?”

  Perry considered this. “I don’t know. I was braced for a pretty unpleasant outcome, but I’ve been treated very decently. On the other hand I have to go off someplace away from you and submit to treatment of indefinite duration and unknown sort. It’s humiliating and I don’t feel happy about it. I don’t like to be regarded as crazy because I know that I am not.”

  Diana patted his hand. “Nobody thinks you are crazy, darling. They think that you are suffering from bad emotional reactions through faulty training. Now they will attempt to re-train you so that you can be happy.”

  He grasped her fiercely. “Do those fools think that they can train me out of loving you with a bunch of fancy phrases?”

  She kissed him tenderly before she answered. “Not at all, darling. You’ll love me just as much or more, but you’ll be happier in it, because you won’t be all cluttered up with a bunch of false reflexes and wrong identifications.”

  “You may be right but I can’t see it. I don’t see how you can change human nature.”

  “You’ll understand that better in a few days. Relax and don’t worry about it now. Come here and let me hold you.” She took him in her arms, cradling his lean young shoulders like a baby. She smoothed the wrinkles from his brow and closed his eyes. Presently the little stubborn lines about his mouth ironed out and he breathed more slowly. Diana suspected that he was sleeping and was still. The miles slipped by underneath. Then she roused him gently. “Perry. Perry, dearest. It’s time to land.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.”

  “No, but it is time to land. See below—that flat over there to the left. Put her down as close to the buildings as you can find room.”

  “Right-O.”

  Inside the administration wing, Diana gave Perry his instructions. “Ask for Master Hedrick and tell them who you are. They’ll tell you what to do.” They were asked to wait for a few minutes. When Master Hedrick appeared, he turned out to be an unimpressive little man, rather thin, with scanty grey hair and a quick bird-like manner. He trotted up, hand outstretched.

  “Ah, there you are. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Shangri La.”

  “Shangri La?”

  “Just a poetical expression, an old man’s fancy from a piece of classic literature I read when a boy. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

  “I’ve read it.” Perry spoke abruptly.

  “Oh, you have really? Then you’ll appreciate the allusion. Not quite as Elysian as the original perhaps, but very beautiful, very beautiful.” Master Hedrick beamed as if he personally had weeded the gardens. “And we try to make the place have the same effect, the same effect. Hope to, hope to.” He cocked his head on one side and regarded them with chipper benignity. “But here, what are we waiting for? Visitors to Shangri La must be fed first. Have you lunched? Then perhaps some tea, or a liqueur? No? A cigarette?” Perry took one from the proffered pack. It was already lighted when he withdrew it. He regarded it with some surprise. Hedrick beamed anew. “Clever, isn’t it? Designed for me by one of our guests. Very clever man, but a little too preoccupied with mechanical devices. Designed one intended to blow up the earth. Didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to anymore. Designs integrating fabricators instead. Very ingenious. Very ingenious. Never could understand them, but they work like a top, like a top. But come, you’re not settled yet. Want to live in bachelor hall? No, of course not. We have some lovely apartments. Or how about a cottage?”

  Perry didn’t answer, but Diana diffidently suggested that they see the latter.

  “Yes indeed. Come along.” He led them at a quick trot downstairs and into a passage where a moving way delivered them to another stairway. They climbed the stair and found themselves in a pleasant comfortable living room complete in all necessary details except kitchen equipment. A fine view window faced out over Lake Tahoe. No other buildings were in sight. Hedrick indicated a path that lead to the right along the shore. “The main buildings are a couple hundred meters down there,” said he. “You’ll prefer to walk in fine weather. Now I’ll leave you for a while. Just make yourselves at home. We won’t really get busy until tomorrow.” He trotted away.

  Perry glanced after him. “Funny little guy. What is he, kind of a glorified janitor?”

  “My heavens, no. He’s the chief psychiatrist and director of the whole institution.” Perry whistled, then he changed the subject.

  “How soon do you have to go?”

  “Why, I don’t have to go. I don’t
have a broadcast until Tuesday.”

  “Do you mean they will let you stay here?”

  “Surely. Why not? I’ll have to be away a good deal because there is no place to rehearse here, nor to broadcast. They may want me to leave you a good bit of the time, but I’m certainly staying over night and most nights—if I’m asked.” She lowered her lashes.

  He placed a finger under her chin, turned it up and kissed her. “Of course you’re asked.”

  The next morning Hedrick appeared and asked if he might come in and talk for a while. The men settled down to becoming acquainted, as Diana announced that she was going to run over and pick up Captain Kidd. The conversation rambled on for hour after hour. Perry found himself led into doing most of the talking and doing so with great freedom. The little man was curiously disarming. His bird-like twitter and mild ways broke down the younger man’s reticence. Gradually he found himself talking about factual events alone. To it all Hedrick offered a sympathetic attention, his head cocked on one side, his eyes bright and alert. When he arose to leave, Perry inquired somewhat nervously as to when the treatment would commence. Hedrick beamed. “It has commenced. Didn’t you know it?” Then he departed, having promised to arrange as soon as possible for a competent economist to come in for a chat, which Perry had requested.

  The talks continued, both with and without others present. Hedrick turned over a part of Perry’s case to Olga, a sturdy blond earthy person who seemed out of place on the staff of a psychiatric institution. She had the hips and breasts for childbearing and the calm eyes of the natural mother. But Diana assured him that Olga had more than once collaborated with Diana’s mother in complicated brain surgery. Olga directed Perry in a more comprehensive study of the modern world than he had undertaken with Diana’s help. In addition to technical and non-fiction works, Olga selected for him many fictional and dramatic works which she urged him to read or view. The two women got along together like old friends. Often Olga would appear with some book or record that she wished Perry to absorb, then the ladies would go for long walks in the surrounding hills. During Diana’s numerous absences Olga would frequently eat and spend the evening with him.