diff options
Diffstat (limited to '59255-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 59255-0.txt | 935 |
1 files changed, 935 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/59255-0.txt b/59255-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9f4f15 --- /dev/null +++ b/59255-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,935 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59255 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + EASY DOES IT + + BY E. G. VON WALD + + _Hal was stranded in the wilderness with + a beautiful girl, and it was surprisingly + enjoyable--while his conditioning was off. + But, after all, how uncivilized can one get?_ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1955. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +Hal Webber leaned back in the soft Formair Executive's seat. Although +he twisted and shifted his position restlessly, he received the same +sensation of perfect, comfortable support no matter which way he +sat in it. Which was only natural, of course. Formair was the best +suspend-field furniture manufactured. + +As he squirmed about, he had a faint, puzzled frown on his face, and in +his stomach he felt a lurking sensation of unaccustomed tension. Hal +simply could not understand it. + +There was a faint humming sound, as the door panel slid back. His +father entered the office. + +"Well Hal," the old man murmured softly with a placid smile of +satisfaction. "We've done it." + +"Done what? Oh, you mean the new coloration process?" + +"Yes. It will quintuple the net value of the family fortune within a +year. We may be the richest people in the world then." + +"That's nice," Hal said mildly. + +His father flicked a finger across a sensitive spot on the front of the +desk and relaxed as a perfect Formair attendant's chair sprang into +existence to fit his gross, soft body. + +"Yes indeed," he said with a mild sigh. "It's been a long, long time +that we've been working for that. Worked mighty hard, too." + +"That's right," murmured Hal, a little more forcefully than necessary. +"Splendid." + +His father's eyebrows rose at the unusual emphasis, but he was much +too cultured to question the point. He continued along the lines of +the conversation already started. "We'll have to do something for +Bruchner. He has been of tremendous assistance on that project. Did it +practically all by himself. He is a very intelligent man, even if he is +an Outlander." + +"Bruchner," said Hal with mild irritation. "All I hear around here +lately is Bruchner. What is he, anyway? Nothing but a savage." + +"Eh?" said his father softly, raising his eyebrows again in polite +inquiry. + +"If Bruchner is such a brilliant fellow, why doesn't he take the +Treatment and become civilized? I sometimes get a little tired of an +employee who tells me I'm wrong all the time." + +"But he is almost always right when he makes such statements, Hal," +Webber pointed out mildly. "For instance, just the other day I asked +him about the color range to be used with the new process on the +Formair Skydome. He stated flatly that blue was a normal color for sky. +Just like that. I was a little startled, of course, at his lack of +courtesy. But after I thought it over a while, blue did seem to be a +nice color for sky." + +"Aaa, blue," Hal muttered. "What's wrong with the green we've always +used in the past?" + +Mr. Webber sighed and squirmed a little to get the chair into a more +comfortable fit. Attendant's chairs were not quite as comfortable +as the Executive type, even if they were Formair. Then he cocked an +eyebrow and looked at his son with mild concern. "Hal, my boy, what's +the trouble? I've never seen you so completely upset in all my life." + +"I feel funny," murmured Hal. "As a matter of fact, I feel awful. Maybe +there's some connection." + +"Ill," the old man nodded agreeably. "Yes, I thought you looked it when +I came in here. Something in the set of your mouth. Tight, sort of." + +With an expression of mild surprise, Hal reached up and tentatively +felt around his mouth with a cleanly manicured forefinger. + +"Son," Webber murmured, "how long has it been since you had your last +CC Treatment?" + +"Eight years," Hal admitted. "It's a little overdue, I suppose, but +surely--" His voice trailed off softly, as his mind seized upon the +possibility. + +"That's probably what it is," Webber replied. That was a pretty +definite statement for someone to make about another's sensations, but +anyone could see that the old man was concerned over his son. "Five +years is the standard period at your age. Why haven't you taken it?" + +"Well, you know," Hal whispered. "It's that new thing they have in it +now." + +"Ah," said his father with comprehension. "That's right, I forgot all +about that. A change. But you won't mind, really you won't. You just +think you will." + +"Perhaps so," Hal said, and hastily changed the subject of conversation +to a less depressing topic. "The new coloration process is a real +success, you say?" + +"Absolutely. We can now provide flexible hue and chroma for the +complete Formair line--Airchair, Aircab and Airdome. We'll be the only +one who has it, and since every Proprietor on the planet will want +our new equipment as fast as we turn it out, we'll put every other +firm completely out of the business. I've already worked out a method +so that we can convert to export goods, too, without waiting for the +economic balance to be readjusted. Of course, the colonies will have to +curtail a little, but we don't have to concern ourselves with them." + +"Yes," agreed Hal. + +"Bruchner has been very useful to us on it," the old man repeated +again. "We'll have to show him we appreciate it." + +Hal's mouth tightened just perceptibly at the mention of the +redoubtable engineer, but he said nothing. His father continued in his +soft, mild voice. "We must make him a present of something. Should +it be money? Can't give him property, of course, because he isn't a +citizen." + +"I don't like the idea of giving an Outlander money. They get their +allotments and that's enough wealth. If you give them money, they will +be able to buy more than their allotment, and that could very easily +upset our own economic balance, you know." + +"Quite true," Webber agreed. Then he smiled with placid inspiration. "I +know. We'll give him fame. We'll name the process after him." + +"Well," Hal said doubtfully, "I guess that would do it." + +"I think so. He's been a great help. As a matter of fact, though, most +of the Outlanders are helpful. A pity they won't take the Treatments +and become citizens. It seems sort of sad the way their emotions cut +them up at times. Like old Tanan last month. Why, up to then he was +almost like a civilized man--even without the treatments." + +"I know," Hal said tonelessly. "It was his son, wasn't it?" + +"Yes. Curious that the old man should be so concerned over that +little unpleasantness. So his son did get a little excited and kill a +Proprietor and was executed himself. No reason for his father to carry +on so about it, is there? I tried to get him to take the Treatment +then, but--well, after all, you can hardly expect an uncivilized +Outlander to appreciate the advantages, can you?" + +"No." Hal did not refer to the fact that the new element recently put +into the standard CC Treatment was causing him to postpone taking it +himself, but his father seemed to sense his thought. + +"You won't mind it, son. Really you won't. The Treatment will take care +of the whole thing. It's perfectly obvious that you are suffering from +the effects of the delay right at this moment." + +"Oh Chaos," Hal swore softly. "Why did they have to go and put that +element in anyway?" + +"Now Hal, you know better than that," his father chided him gently. "It +was either include a marital inclination or else go in for a complete +program of artificial insemination. The women have a vote too, you +know, and they wouldn't hear of it. They don't object to carrying +a child for a few months--that's always been in their conditioning +for some reason or another. But they insisted that if they had to be +mothers, the men would have to be fathers. And they insisted on a +standard, civilized marriage contract to cover the situation." + +"I know, I know. I've heard all the arguments. Racial suicide and all. +Nonsense. We can always import Outlanders and force them to take the +Treatment. Outlanders," he pointed out with suitable, mild, cultured +disgust, "breed like animals." + +"No son, that wouldn't do the job. We have to keep the blood line. +Outlanders don't have it, you know. If they did, they would have +permitted themselves to be civilized long ago." + +Hal's fingers drummed nervously on the desk top, and his father again +raised an eyebrow in mild concern. He shook his head thoughtfully. + +Guiltily, Hal stopped his fingers from their satisfying tattoo. He +bunched them into a fist instead, and then gazed at it with mild +unbelief. + +"All right," he finally whispered. "This is simply awful. And it looks +as if in order to be cured, I'll have to get me a wife along with it. A +pity, though. Everything was perfectly mild without one." + +"You'll be mild with a wife, Hal," his father assured him softly. +"You don't like the prospect now, because it means change. Change, of +course, is always unpleasant. But the Treatment will take care of it +all right. I know that I didn't expect things to work out so mildly +with a wife. It was optional back in those days, and if it hadn't +been for your mother's family money, I never would have married. +Particularly her--with her family history of fecundity. As witnessed +by the children we produced--you and your sister. But Formair needed +the money, and I was the only available man in the Webber clan. When +I agreed to make the sacrifice, they made me president of the firm, +because it isn't often that a man will do so much for his own family. +Shows real character. It's in the cultured family blood, naturally." + +Hal had heard all this many, many times before, but he listened without +irritation. Or at least, with only the mild irritation that was the +result of his present unstable condition. + +"Yes indeed," his father went on in his mild, comfortable voice. +"Hardly knew she was around the house, though, once the Treatment was +over with. It was just as if she had been around all my life. Marvelous +process." + +"All right," Hal murmured. "I'll take it." + +"Be a good idea to pick out a wife first. Sometimes there are a +few minor adjustments to make because of outstanding individual +characteristics. You get an absolutely perfect fit that way, you know." +He stood up and walked toward the door, the flabby muscles of his body +easily supporting the two pounds relative of his weight. + +"The Ansermet family has a female available, I believe," he murmured +as he walked. "Excellent choice. But you better have the probability +checked anyway." + +"I know about her," Hal replied thoughtfully. "But what's she like? +Have you ever met her?" + +His father smiled benignly back at him, as he practically floated +through the doorway. "That doesn't matter a bit," he said mildly. "It +doesn't make any difference at all what either of you are like. The +Treatment will bring you both back to absolute, statistical normal, +and you'll both be a perfect fit for each other. Quite pleasantly +civilized." + +The door hummed shut behind him. + +"Well," Hal announced aloud to himself, "guess that's it." + +He ordered the automatic secretary to make all suitable arrangements +and then stood up. He walked to the elevator, where a soft, hissing +breeze conveyed his temporary one-tenth pound relative gently up the +tube to the roof. There his weight returned to its normal two pounds +relative, and he spoke to the robot attendant. "My cab." His Formair +Aircab was promptly and quietly delivered, and Hal stepped inside. + +"Destination?" a voice inquired softly from the control bank. + +"Take me to the nearest available Civilization Conditioning Treatment +Center." + +At once, the cab took off. It was a silent and comfortable motion. Hal +had always liked flying. + +The automatic pilot was speaking to him gently. "Central Authority +advises that the nearest available CCT Center at this time is in +the metropolis of Knoxville. This requires traversing interurban +wilderness." + +Hal frowned just slightly. He had never seen the interurban wilderness, +of course, and had not the slightest desire to do so. That was chaos. +He inquired, "How soon can the local Center take me?" + +"Three days, seven hours twenty minutes from reference time. Mark +time ... mark!" the robot announced the temporal point of reference. + +"Too long," Hal replied wearily. "Let's go to Knoxville. And shut off +all outside views. I do not wish to see the chaos." + +The Aircab obediently turned and transposed through the suspend-field +of the York metropolis Airdome. It was an effortless passing, since the +field that constituted the wall structure of the Aircab was exactly in +phase with that of the Airdome field. Both were Formair manufacture, of +course. + +The pleasant, silent, effortless motion of the Aircab soon produced its +usual somnolent effect on him, and he dozed comfortably off. He slept +the entire trip. + +At Knoxville, he spoke to the Center Technician briefly, advising the +master robot of the possibility of his altered economic status, and the +matter was thoroughly checked by the computer at Central Authority. +Every conceivable source of psychosomatic tension and internal conflict +was studied, and suitable alterations on Hal's master curve plotted. +The process took ten minutes, while Hal dozed under the soothing warmth +of the examination cap. There was a crackling buzz, and it was over. + +He awoke immediately, and felt wonderful. No tension. No irritation. +Not the slightest bit of his recent restlessness. Hal was delighted. +On the way out of the cubicle, he encountered another Proprietor, and +smiled at him with perfect, civilized mildness. + +"York," he ordered his Aircab. Once again, the sleek button-shaped +vehicle soared up through the Airdome and out over the interurban +wilderness. Hal contentedly went to sleep right in the middle of the +pilot's automatic rundown of flight data. + + * * * * * + +He was jolted awake by a raucous rattle from the control bank. Blinking +his eyes sleepily, he said, "Please stop all that noise. What is the +trouble?" + +A very unpleasant and notably ungentle voice replied, "Apologies sir. +We are out of control. Aircrash has occurred." + +Aircrash! An almost unheard-of thing that sometimes happened to people +who used inferior equipment like that produced by firms other than +Formair. People were even known to be killed by it. + +"Report," he said quietly, then flinched a little at the raucous +scratching of the speech mechanism. + +"Reference point ... mark! Altitude eleven thousand three hundred +seventy one feet. Velocity reduced to two hundred nine point nine +miles per hour. Locus: seven hundred point eight miles from nearest +civilized metropolis, which is York." The voice continued, but became +unintelligible as the mangled circuits faltered. + +Seven hundred miles from civilization! Wilderness. Chaos; that settled +it, of course. Hal smiled gently as he realized that he was about to +die. A civilized man obviously could not be expected to survive in +chaos. He observed that he was breathing more strenuously, and realized +that it was the result of the rapid failure of the antigravity field. +Never in his life had Hal been under the full force of the earth's mass +field, but he knew the symptoms. Once he had been exposed to a one-half +gee for a few hours. Very unpleasant, he recalled. + +The automatic pilot's unintelligible speech suddenly stopped +altogether. There was a heavy, awkward lurch that threw Hal forward +against the front panel. But before he struck it, the field generator +failed completely, the panel ceased to exist, and Hal was flying +through the air. He shut his eyes, and placidly waited for death. + +A moment later, he hit the ground sharply, rolled over and over, and +lay still. + +He sighed heavily. Death? He had always fancied that death would be a +complete absence of sensation, and no consciousness of effort whatever. +Instead, his breath was coming in deep, heavy sighs, his head hurt, his +arm was aching, and something was tickling his nose. + +"Come on, wake up," a voice said briskly. + +Hal opened his eyes and looked up at a golden-framed face. It was the +face that had been speaking, and the pleasingly shaped lips now moved +again. "You aren't hurt, you know. Just a little shaken up." + +Hal continued to stare at the woman for a moment, then muttered +"Umph," and struggled to a sitting posture. It was a great effort in +the unaccustomed full earth gravitational field. The woman was an +Outlander, no doubt about it. That was evident from her highly spirited +tone of voice. But as Hal looked around at the strange picture of +undisturbed interurban wilderness, he found that most astonishingly +he did not mind it. As a matter of fact, he rather liked her tone of +voice. It was all very puzzling. + +"What happened?" he muttered heavily, his eyes moving back to the +landscape and the small metal boxes which housed the now defunct +suspend-field generators. + +"There must have been something wrong with your Aircab," she replied. +"You crashed. The same way I did a couple days ago." The woman walked +over to the generator boxes, picked them up and brought them back to +where he was still sitting on the grass. "We'll need these," she +explained. "There are emergency supplies inside them." + +Hal didn't move. She waited a moment, then said lightly, tossing her +golden hair, "Come along now. We're way out in the wilderness, you +know, and there aren't any robots to bring us our dinner." + +"Wilderness," Hal murmured. "That's right. Well, I guess we'll die +here." + +"Oh nonsense!" She stamped her foot with impatience. "This would have +to happen to me. Of all people to be stranded with in the wilderness, I +have to get one of you insipid, gutless Proprietors." + +"Oh yes?" Hal said with unconscious anger, lurching to his feet. "Who's +insipid and gutless? I'm considerably more civilized than you are." +Quick surprise crossed her face as she listened. Hal continued his +angry speech. "Why is it that all you savages always think you know how +to live better than your superiors? If you are so clever, why aren't +you civilized?" + +"Well, listen to him. You sound almost human." + +She was laughing at him! + +"Damn savage," he growled. He turned and strode purposefully away from +her across the soft matting of grass. + +"Where do you think you are going?" she called. + +"Away from here," he replied. But the rapid pace in the unaccustomed +gravity was very quickly taking his energy. His breath came in deep, +labored gasps already, and he could scarcely move his feet. + +He stopped abruptly, and looked at the distant horizon. There was +nothing in sight that indicated civilization. These regions had +not been inhabited for two hundred and fifty years--ever since +the severance of the planetary colonies from political control by +the motherland, and the settling of the Proprietors into their +well-separated, civilized cities. The land was all owned by the +Proprietors, but was unnecessary, and hence not used. + +He felt a light touch on his arm. + +"I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "I can understand you a little, but +you're so completely under the influence of your horrible personality +conditioning methods that you can't possibly understand me." + +"Who's under what influence?" Hal said in a valiant attempt to express +his irritation, but his voice held the obvious weakness of fatigue. + +"You poor boy," she sympathized. "You don't sound very much influenced +by it right now." + +At her words, Hal suddenly became aware of the unaccustomed vigor +of his own emotions, and he was puzzled by it. But it seemed oddly +unimportant for some reason. "How come you can handle this awful weight +so easily?" he asked her. + +Her laughter was light and delightful. "We spend most of our lives +under natural conditions, not under an antigravity machine. I've only +been on Earth for a few months, visiting my father. But a lot of that +time was spent out here in this beautiful wilderness." + +"Horrible chaos," he muttered. He glanced up and observed a mild, blue, +cloud-studded sky. "Why it is blue, after all. Isn't it?" + +"What's blue?" + +"The skydome." + +She glanced up thoughtfully. "Of course it's blue. And this is not one +of your artificial skys. This is the real thing. There's no artificial +weather control out here, you know. You get natural sunlight, natural +winds, storms, rain--oh, lots of things." + +"Gahh," said Hal. + +"What makes you surprised at finding that the sky is blue?" + +"Probably because I never saw it before. The only time I ever heard +of its being anything other than green was when an engineer we have +working for us at the factory said it was blue." + +"Well, never mind the sky. Let's find some place where we can get a +little shelter for the night." She began to lead him slowly along an +animal trail to a cluster of trees on a nearby stream. She walked with +the obviously delayed pace one takes with invalids, but Hal had a +difficult time keeping up. + +Finally, she said, "Here's a pretty good place. Sit down next to that +tree. You must be worn out." + +"Oooo," he groaned, reclining back against a broad, rough oak trunk, +then stiffening painfully away from it again. "It doesn't fit," he +mourned plaintively. + +"Now you're sounding silly again," she scolded. "Go on, lean back. +There aren't any suspend-field lounges out here for you, so you take +what you get." + +Obediently, he relaxed against the rough, twisting bark. He was very, +very tired. On second thought, even this rugged seat was comfortable. +He sighed heavily, and then looked pensively around again. "Oh well, +what does it matter? We'll be dead soon." + +"Don't talk like that!" she snapped with annoyance. + +"Why?" he inquired listlessly. "Everybody knows a civilized human being +can't possibly survive in the wilderness. That's why no one ever comes +here. And I'd just as soon die right now, if you have anything suitable +for killing." + +The woman stared at him with a tight frown between her eyebrows. Then +she shook her head with wonder. "How you people can call yourselves +civilized is beyond me. You yourself don't seem so bad, except that you +don't have any guts. They've trained it all out by now." + +"Please," begged Hal. "You sound like that uncouth engineer that works +for us. Impertinent." + +"That what engineer?" she demanded spiritedly. "Who are you, anyway?" + +"I'm Webber. Hal Webber. The engineer is a savage--oh sorry." He smiled +weakly. "You're a savage, too. Guess you Outlanders don't regard +yourselves as such." + +"No we don't," she snapped. "And if it weren't for us, you silly fools +here on Earth would have died out long ago." + +"Outlanders are noted for their misplaced pride, of course," Hal +commented with a mildness that was impelled by fatigue rather than +civilized conditioning. + +"Oh are we now?" she said angrily, standing up and bending over him. +"And who do you think you are, Lord Proprietor? Some humble god, +perhaps? Let me tell you something, Hal Webber, I've heard about you. +You know who I am? My name is Lois Bruchner. That uncouth engineer you +just referred to happens to be my father." + +Hal was puzzled. "What on earth is the matter?" he asked. "Why are you +so excited?" + +"You called my father uncouth." + +"Why get excited about that? After all--" Hal gestured weakly, trying +to reason with her, "--it's only your father. I didn't say you were +uncouth. Funny thing is--I like you." + +"Suppose I called your father names?" she demanded, her lower lip +protruding belligerently. + +"You can call him anything you like as far as I am concerned." + +Lois Bruchner stood there a moment, her mouth open in astonishment. +Then she sat down beside him again quietly. + +"That's right," she murmured, "they even educate love out of you." + +Hal sighed heavily, and slid away from the tree onto the rough, rocky +ground. It was painful, but he was so tired. His breath came in +regular, deep sighs as he went to sleep. + + * * * * * + +By the time he woke, Lois had constructed a kind of primitive lean-to +shelter over him. Hal was amazed. The sheltering purpose of the +structure was evident to him, and he was startled that she should have +been able to design such a thing on the spur of the moment. + +She heard him stir and looked up from the fire she had built in front +of the lean-to. "Hungry?" she asked. + +He was ravenous, but his muscles ached in every fibre. His wonder at +her cleverness disappeared abruptly when he tried to move. He rolled +over groaning and helpless. + +Immediately, she was at his side, pushing him back onto the bed of dry, +fragrant grass she had put him on. "Now don't try to move around," she +admonished. "Just a few days, and you'll be all right." + +"Oooo," Hal groaned. "This is awful." + +"There, there," she murmured solicitously. "I've made you some soup. +You'll like it." + +"Soup," he groaned. "I want food. Good solid synthomeat. Don't you have +any food?" + +"Solid food in your stomach so soon in this heavy gravity would kill +you." + +She went away and returned quickly with a little cup and spoon, and +proceeded to empty the container into his lax mouth a few drops at a +time. After a while, he ceased his protesting. It was less painful +to swallow the slop than to fight it. Very soon afterward, he lost +consciousness. + + * * * * * + +Later, he was again aware of his surroundings. He felt tremendously +better, and observed with a peculiar satisfaction that it was morning. +Funny sounds were in the air, which he eventually recognized as the +cries of wild birds and insects. Insects? He blinked his eyes and +struggled to a sitting position, and looked worriedly around. Insects +can carry disease, he remembered. And wild animals were reported to be +carnivorous. + +His clumsy motions awakened Lois, who had been sleeping beside him. Hal +looked down at her with a vague wonder. Such a nice looking savage, +he thought, as she popped open her eyes. She smiled a pleased morning +smile at him and lazily stretched. + +"Hi," she said. "How do you feel?" + +"Quite mild," Hal admitted with wonder. "Odd, too. That junk you fed me +last night must have some very efficient drug in it." + +"Junk I fed you last night?" Lois echoed, sitting up. Then she laughed +her amusement. "Oh, you mean that soup. That wasn't last night, Hal +Webber. That was last week." + +"But--I just woke up," he protested. + +"Yes." She smiled at him, reaching up and patting his cheek +affectionately. "You've been a little delirious. Gravity trauma, very +common. You get used to it fast, but that's one thing they didn't +condition you to, I guess, and your conscious promptly rejected the +possibility." + +Sudden remembrance came to Hal of the agony it had been to move +the last time he remembered trying it. Cautiously he lifted an arm +and flexed it. He glanced back at Lois, who was watching him with +amusement. "It feels all right now. Heavy and clumsy, but no pain." + +"Good." She stood up and brushed her unruly hair away from her +forehead. "I'll fix your breakfast just as soon as I take my bath, all +right?" she said. Hal nodded absently. The stream was twenty yards +away, and Lois walked quickly over to it. There she pulled her jumper +over her head and dove into the crystal water. "Eeii, it's cold!" she +shrieked. Her vigorous splashing threw sharp brilliance in the early +morning sunlight. After a few minutes, she came out, letting the water +dry on her soft, golden skin. + +Hal was watching her in open-mouthed admiration. It was a most +remarkable sensation, this pleasure at seeing her move in that lithe, +supple way. He had never before experienced such a thing. + +As she came up on the grassy bank, she noticed his rapt gaze, and +quickly snatched up her single garment and held it in front of her. +"All right," she told him briskly. "You too. You're much too big for me +to handle effectively, so you haven't had a decent bath since we got +here. And it gets pretty hot during the day." + +Obediently, as if in a vic-spell, Hal stood up and walked to the +water's edge, keeping his eyes on her. + +"Look where you're going," she said sharply, and he shook his head +dazedly. He slowly removed his clothing, dropped it on the ground, and +jumped into the water. + +That was the end of the spell. The water was like ice, he howled like +a wounded animal and tried to jump out again. But the gravity made him +clumsy and he fell back with a great splash. He rose again, gasping and +sputtering, making wild, awkward movements--in a frenzy to get out of +the excruciating coldness. Finally he was lying on the grass, panting +and exhausted. + +Lois was standing over him, her pale blue eyes dancing with delight. +"What a spectacle," she bubbled merrily. "You should have seen +yourself. I sure wish I had a vic-o-graph with me. Such performances +should be preserved." + +Unaccountably, Hal found himself gurgling like a delighted baby, and +then laughing with her in loud, uncivilized guffaws. + +After a few minutes, they were both worn out with hilarity. Lois +sighed. She gave him a brimming smile, and went on back to the lean-to. +"Get your clothes on," she said. "I'll have some breakfast for you in a +few minutes." + + * * * * * + +It was food, Hal agreed, but it was not very good. It had come out of +the standard emergency ration from the Aircab master units, and no +power on earth could have made it very palatable. And the supply was +nearly gone. + +"I don't know how we can get back," she said thoughtfully, as she +chewed on a wafer. "Plenty of Aircabs go by--I've seen a dozen or +so during the past week. But nobody ever looks out of them except +Outlanders, and there aren't many of us around. So there isn't any +point in building a signal fire." + +Hal did not reply. He lay back on the grass, his belly full with +unaccustomed satisfaction, staring at the blue sky. He decided that he +still preferred green. "It's sort of a washed-out color," he murmured. + +"What?" + +"The sky. It's sort of pallid and weak-looking." + +"That's haze. But spoken like a big, strong man," she said lightly. And +then wistfully added, "A pity they always take it out of you." + +Hal frowned, and looked down from the sky to the windblown dampness of +her golden hair. "What do you mean by that?" he inquired. + +"Nothing." Her gaze returned modestly to her wafer, and she continued +the former subject. "We were talking about getting back to what you +call civilization, remember? Or do you prefer we become the new Adam +and Eve lost in the wilderness?" she asked, her eyes dancing. "We could +start a new primitive dynasty of plains savages." + +"Oh." Hal's mind came back to the immediate problem. "Oh, yes, that's +right. We have to get back." He frowned a moment. "Well now, let's see. +There're a number of emergency stations spotted around the interurban +wilderness. Can't just remember where I learned about them--must have +been Treatment information." He thoughtfully picked up a stick and +began drawing diagrams of maps in the loose soil. "There." He pointed +with the stick. "One of them should be about two hundred miles north +of where we are now, provided the automatic pilot of my Aircab was +accurate in its final position fix." + +Lois was looking at the crude map when he glanced back up at her. There +seemed to be a sadness in her expression. She nodded her head at the +map. "From that it looks like those emasculating treatments do some +good after all." + +"Don't talk like that," he reproved her. "The Civilization Conditioning +Treatment is the basis of our culture." + +She started to speak, hesitated, and then blurted out, "What, +precisely, does it do for you?" + +"Don't you know?" Hal asked astonished, and then answered his own +question. "Oh, of course, Outlanders would hardly know much about +civilized history. Well, before interplanetary exploration was started, +there weren't any areas at all like this wilderness. The planet was +much too crowded. The people lived in huge, contiguous cities and were +incessantly battling with each other for economic survival, social +survival and animal survival. The vast majority of the population +couldn't stand it. They developed all kinds of psychogenic illnesses. +The impact of the uncontrolled inclinations of individuals meeting the +absolute self-control required by civilization was killing them. + +"Then, gradually, the Civilization Conditioning process was developed. +What happened then was just what you would expect--the people who +took the Treatments were so much better adapted to civilized living +conditions that the others simply didn't have a chance. Just as soon +as planetary colonies were opened up, the savages were all shipped +off. There were a lot of riots and small-scale wars for a while, but +eventually the superior conditioning of the civilized people won out. + +"After things had stabilized again, anyone who wanted to was permitted +to become an Earth citizen, but he had to take the Treatment, and keep +it up. But by that time, most savages had a lot of peculiar prejudices +against it, so the population of Earth has remained very small. The +robotic defenses of the Proprietors protected the planet from further +invasion, and now the robotic police maintain order everywhere in the +system. + +"Of course, the planets are extremely poor in natural resources, so +we supply the basic material, even though we relinquished political +control long ago. The colonies pay us by sending unusually gifted +technicians like your father to work for us. Naturally, Outlanders +have no rights, whatsoever, here. Not even the right to life or +freedom or payment of the material allotment. But unless they commit +a crime or otherwise interfere with the Proprietors, there is not the +slightest danger of being molested by any citizen, because citizens are +civilized." + +Hal stopped his history lecture and looked back up at her. "The +Treatment is responsible for the entire rational order of our culture, +as you probably know." + +"But look how insipid it makes you all," she burst out. "You're so weak +and wishy-washy. There isn't a noble or even a strong sentiment in your +entire society." + +"That is how the process works. It is nothing but a series of checks +and balances artificially installed in the subconscious which make +strong sentiments unnecessary, and which prevent unstable activity. +The result is a perfectly smooth existence with no ups or downs, and a +perfect cooperation between civilized people." + +Lois thought this over for a moment. Then she asked curiously, "How +do you account for the fact that you--after all the Treatments you +have taken--are so different from other Proprietors? You, well--" +she stumbled, blushing a little--"you seem perfectly normal in your +reactions." + +Hal shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe my last Treatment had an error +in it." But he shook his head again at that idea, because the computer +at Central Authority never made mistakes. "It _is_ strange." + +"I think it's wonderful." She smiled at him with quick radiance. + +Hal grinned happily back at her, feeling an alien surge of joy as he +looked at the smile and at her. "Well, whatever it is, for the next few +months or so it looks like we'll be savages in fact." + + * * * * * + +They were. And they took a long time walking north to their +destination. It was a remarkably satisfying experience for Hal. And it +was for Lois, too, as she pointed out to him the night after they found +the emergency station. There was a small Formair shelter at the place, +and a simple automatic distress transmitter which was set in operation +by one push of a button. Symbols marked on the case of the transmitter +assured them that assistance would be forthcoming within twelve hours. + +It was their first night in a civilized shelter, and their last night +together in the wilderness. Early the next morning, an Authority Aircab +came humming swiftly down to the meadow where they were waiting. + +Once inside the Aircab, Hal became taciturn and thoughtful, but Lois +was not disturbed. She talked enough for both of them. Hal luxuriated +in the pleasant reawakened rapport with the things of civilization. + +Back at the city, they went to Bruchner's residence, and Lois' father +rushed outside to greet them. Lois ran happily to him, embracing +him, and volubly explaining how wonderful Hal was, how he had saved +her from being gobbled up by a lot of wild animals, and how strong +he was, and sundry other affectionately innocuous exaggerations. Hal +looked curiously on for a few minutes in idle wonder at the strange +attachments of Outlanders. Then Lois proudly pulled him over next to +her. + +"Isn't he wonderful? And we're in love--oh, so much in love." + +"Lois," Bruchner mumbled unhappily. "There are some things you have to +be told. I should have told you before--" + +"You don't have to tell me anything," she bubbled happily. "You can +say all you want to about the Proprietors, but this one is different. +He's--he's real!" + +Hal laughed diffidently, and moved a little further away from her. He +gazed around at the city, recognizing it with thirsty familiarity, +happily part of it again. The experience of the past three months +already seemed far away. + +"Hal," Lois murmured, suddenly aware of his rapidly growing coolness. +"Hal, darling, what's wrong?" + +"Why nothing at all, uh, Lois." He looked at her uncomfortably for a +moment, and backed a step further. "It's just--well, you know." + +"Oh no you don't," she cried, rushing up to him and grabbing his arm. +"Where are you going--Dad!" + +"Please, Miss Bruchner," Hal murmured mildly, disengaging his arm from +her. He gazed hungrily around him again the moment she let go, and +looked back at her only when he was startled by a sudden, choking sob. +Lois was staring at him, her fist to her mouth, the pale blue eyes +brimming. + +"Oh no!" she cried tremulously. + +"Lois," Bruchner said, his voice sounding harsh with repressed +emotions, "come in here. You've got to know what the situation is." He +put his arm around her trembling shoulders and led her off, glaring at +Hal in helpless fury. + +The moment they were out of sight, Hal turned and stepped back into +the Aircab. He ordered it to take him home. His parents were there, +watching a vic-entertainment, which Hal promptly turned off. + +"Who did that?" his father mumbled, coming immediately out of the +trance. "Hal? That wasn't a very nice thing to do, son." + +"Why Hal," his mother sighed mildly. "You're not dead after all. +How nice. Don't pay any attention to your father--it wasn't a very +interesting vic anyway." + +"Shouldn't turn it off like that, though." + +"Um, sorry," Hal apologized gently. He relaxed into the comfortable, +perfect fit of a Formair lounge. "Just thought I'd let you know I'm +still alive." + +"Well, we're glad," his mother murmured absently. "Must have been +pretty awful." + +"That's the funny thing about it, though--I didn't mind it a bit at +the time. Very curious. I had an Outlander woman with me--Bruchner's +daughter, as a matter of fact." + +"Oh dear," Mrs. Webber sighed. "Poor Hal." + +"Well, like I say, it wasn't exactly mild, but it was quite tolerable, +somehow." He frowned just slightly, and shook his head at the +puzzling incongruity. He recalled his three months of association +with the uncivilized woman, somewhat wistfully contemplating strong, +overpowering sentiments in a chaotic wilderness. "Anyway," he said at +last, "I'm home again, and it's all over. I won't have to have anything +to do with her now." + +"Yes," Mrs. Webber murmured. "Odd that you should have survived though, +isn't it? I thought a civilized man in the wilderness would die almost +at once." + +Webber gave the cultured equivalent of a mild snort. "Of course he +could survive. Oh--" and he laughed softly in apology "--that's right. +I forgot to tell you about that." + +The eyes of his wife politely turned to him and he explained. "A couple +of weeks after our son here apparently had been killed, I happened +to run into an Authority physician. I mentioned it to him, just in +passing. He told me that there was a factor in the CC Treatment that +provided for such things. + +"It seems that the Civilization Conditioning they give you is only +designed to enable a man to survive in a city. In order for the +conditioning to function, you have to have that civilized urban +environment. Once the environment is removed, the conditioned complex +has nothing to react against, and the man immediately becomes +almost--but not quite--as savage as a typical Outlander. + +"That way, a civilized man can always manage to live in the wilderness, +given half a chance. Once he gets back into a city again, the proper, +civilized environment is returned, the conditioning starts functioning +immediately and presto!--the man is civilized again." + +"Well now, that's nice," Mrs. Webber said placidly. "Wouldn't like to +see my boy dead." + +"Yes," her husband mused. "The physician told me that right after we +decided Hal was dead. I was going to mention it to you, but it slipped +my mind somehow." + +"Well, you're just a tiny bit forgetful at times, dear." Mrs. Webber +sighed softly and turned to her son. "Hal, dear, it's awfully nice to +see you back again. Would you be kind enough to switch the vic back +on?" + + * * * * * + +Contentedly, Hal complied, and was himself immediately carried away by +the vicarious entertainment, pleased to put the disturbing dream of the +past three months comfortably behind him. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Easy Does It, by E. G. von Wald + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59255 *** |