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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59259 ***
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+                            THE OUTER QUIET
+
+                         BY HERBERT D. KASTLE
+
+               _Fear is often Man's greatest enemy. But
+             when there is nothing left to lose, there is
+              everything to gain.... And with everything
+                     to gain, where is the enemy?_
+
+           [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.]
+
+
+He lay on the cot, listening to the breathing of the six men who shared
+apartment 2-B with him, and the panic fluttered deep in his stomach,
+threatening to break upward and out in a wild scream. He fought it by
+telling himself it was foolish for a man who had lived through the
+destruction of New York and eight months imprisonment to feel this way.
+
+He peered toward the window and tried to see the morning sun; not as
+a pale, shimmery fog but as the bright Spring yellow he knew it was.
+But the fog remained, no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes
+with saliva-wet fingers. It was as if he were seeing everything under
+water--a world of shimmery, hazy objects.
+
+The panic rose again. The Conquerors' beam had done its work well, and
+his chances of finding Adele before death found him, were now terribly
+small. The first punishment had brought only a slight blur, this one
+had almost blinded him, and it was only a matter of time before he
+committed the third offense. It made no difference that Conqueror
+Punitive assured all trainees that the degree of blindness decreased
+as the years went by. He knew that his third offense would come sooner
+than any improvement in his ability to see. And the third offense was
+punishable by death.
+
+Before another rush of fear could churn his brain, the morning
+whistle sounded. Shrill, commanding, it began each day of aimless
+wandering--the silent stroll over pavement connecting the five
+buildings of what had once been Brooklyn's prize housing development; a
+constant walk which destroyed those Americans unable to show complete
+obedience and turned the others into slaves.
+
+Again the whistle shrieked, and the room filled with coughs, groans and
+sighs, for it was forbidden to talk. Only when one of the many rules
+had been broken and a card bearing the trainee's number was found in
+the box outside the door did some American get a chance to speak. He
+would rush instantly to the small administration building near the
+wall's only exit and report to the squat, gray-uniformed Conqueror
+known as Punitive--the only Conqueror the trainees had ever seen. After
+an explanation of the offense in too-precise English, the trainee was
+told to sit on the stool facing the light tube. "I obey," he would
+croak. In silence broken only by the hum of electric generators in
+the basement, the beam of piercing white light would sear his eyes.
+Afterwards, the assurance about the disappearing effects of the beam;
+then back to the streets.
+
+With _only_ Punitive representing them, the Conquerors weeded out
+Americans who would not or could not obey. The vaguest suggestion of
+communication between trainees was picked up by the detector bulbs--the
+see-and-hear-all devices which hung much as oversized light bulbs from
+the ceiling of every room, and stood like dead street lamps every fifty
+feet or so along the pavements.
+
+George lay a second longer, then twisted his tall, slim body erect and
+sprang to his feet. As he slipped into the thick stockings, high-topped
+shoes, and one-piece cover-alls with serial number stitched in large
+red numerals across chest and back, he began sounding deep in his
+throat. This was so slight a touch of the vocal cords that no detector
+bulb or other trainee could hear it. But it was something more than
+thinking; it was listening to a voice repeating all the things that
+had mattered before the Conquerors' surprise attack atomized New York
+City. It was his fight against non-entity.
+
+"George Lowery," he said, "thirty-two, top salesman at Brady's Men's
+Shop, resident of Babylon, Long Island, owner of 12 North Rector Drive,
+husband of Adele Lowery, and today you may see her." But the last
+phrase stuck in his throat and he had to repeat it several times. Even
+so, he couldn't convince himself that the most important part of his
+ritual was true--that perhaps he would see his wife as she walked the
+streets.
+
+Two days ago he had turned the breakfast table to stone by asking his
+neighbor to pass the water. It was nothing more than a mistake--a
+stupid thinking aloud. But yesterday the card had been in the door-box.
+He had visited apartment 1-A in the Administration Building and, for
+the second time, the thin beam of light had seared his eyes. Now he was
+no longer sure he would be able to recognize his own wife.
+
+"George Lowery," he sounded, fighting off the panic. "George Lowery,"
+and he turned and moved through the now-empty rooms.
+
+He was last in line outside the bathroom and waited dully for his turn.
+The men in front of him were nothing but tall, short or in-between
+nondescripts. The old group, of which he was the last, had been
+different. They had looked at each other with meaning, with hope. After
+six months passed, and realization came that no opposition to the
+Conquerors was in sight, they went out in one mad day of talk. He had
+watched silently, refusing to respond to the suicidal good morning's,
+pardon me's, and salty discussions of Conqueror Punitive's parentage.
+
+Not that life in the project meant anything to him. It was just that
+he had to see Adele again--to assure himself that she still remembered
+their life together. If her love had been stamped out, then the
+Conquerors were right in their men-live-by-bread-alone theory, and he
+was only one of a few remaining misfits--a breed as expendable in the
+battle for survival as the great, pre-historic lizards had been.
+
+He hadn't been in the bathroom more than five minutes when the third
+whistle sounded. With his beard still wet he rushed out of the
+apartment, pausing only to check the empty door-box, then ran down two
+flights of stairs to the street. It was windy for a morning in June
+and his face felt cold where the damp hair covered it. The Conquerors
+allowed nothing that could be used as a weapon to fall into American
+hands, but even after eight months he was still not used to his light
+brown beard and long shaggy hair.
+
+Hurrying through the street, following the one-way arrows which kept
+the trainees moving in the same direction, around and around the
+project, he felt the panic well up again. He made a wide detour of the
+excavation area which lay in the center of a rough square formed by the
+four apartment houses and the Administration Building. This forbidden
+area had been the cause of his first visit to Conqueror Punitive.
+Some two months ago, right after the last shipment of fresh trainees
+arrived, he had seen a group of women obviously new to the project,
+rigid in their terror of this silent hell, walking right in the
+direction of the excavation. Without thinking, he had shouted a warning
+which stopped them from committing an offense.
+
+By the time he reached the basement of building two, he was gasping for
+breath. If the last whistle sounded before he was seated at one of the
+long wooden tables, it would mean the third offense. There wasn't any
+light-beam treatment for that one; only an electrode clamped to the
+head and the oblivion of thousands of volts of electricity.
+
+He went down the flight of steps into the basement which was dining
+room for all the male prisoners, and grasped a spoon, cup and plate
+from the tinware table just inside the door. The benches nearest the
+door were filled, but he didn't have time to go any further. Just as he
+plumped between two trainees, the whistle sounded.
+
+He sat still a moment catching his breath, feeling the thin bodies
+adjust themselves away from him. Scooping some cereal from one of the
+center pots, he began to eat. The first mouthful stuck in his throat
+and he hastily filled his cup. But when he had gulped down the sugared
+water, a wave of nausea made him gag. He sat gripping the edge of the
+table, his head spinning. And thoughts crept into his mind--thoughts
+and questions he wanted to keep out.
+
+Why were the trainees being starved? If the Conquerors wanted to kill
+them, it would be simple enough to use the quicker and less expensive
+method of firing squads. The training area was proof that they wanted
+workers for their new world. And despite the hunger which made
+hollow-eyed skeletons of them all, the men and women walked straighter
+and with definite confidence. Their lips were sealed shut, their eyes
+flickered observantly, their heads were always rigidly forward. Except
+for a few lingering misfits like himself, the group conformed as well
+as humans ever could. Why then the delay in releasing them as had been
+promised?
+
+He screwed his eyes around and tried to see the other tables. Those
+even a short distance from the door were almost empty, and further
+into the hall they seemed deserted. He had no way of knowing the total
+number of men, but he was sure there weren't more than a hundred--out
+of an original five hundred. If the same proportion held true for the
+women, there were less than two hundred Americans left in the project!
+
+He twisted his eyes to the person on his left. The face was that of a
+boy in his late teens--the beard spotty and thin. The head barely moved
+as he chewed, he held himself rigid, his hand moved up to his mouth in
+a straight line and down the same way--he ate like a machine.
+
+George swung his eyes to the right. Another young machine turned out
+by the Conquerors. But was it only to be starved to death that these
+men, most of them so young, had obeyed? It made no sense and this, more
+than the conformity to slavery, terrified him.
+
+But his terror lasted only a moment. What had he to do with whether
+they lived or died? He was finished; all that mattered was seeing Adele.
+
+He picked up his spoon and ate until the whistle shrieked its order
+for the walking to begin. Then he rose with utensils in hand and was
+carried to the door in the silent rush. As he dropped his tinware into
+the barrel of chlorinated water, he thought with bitter amusement that
+there was nothing for the Conquerors to do anymore--hardly a full day's
+work for three or four men in operating the project now.
+
+
+
+When he walked into the street, the sun was warmer. It was a beautiful
+day; almost summer, he thought, and he breathed deeply. But the smell
+of fresh growth was not in the air--only the dusty, burnt odor of the
+ruined city beyond the walls. The sun grew brighter by the minute and
+he found it increasingly more difficult to see. It was as if the rays
+shattered into blinding blobs as they struck his eyes. Somehow, he knew
+he was using his ears more than ever before.
+
+Poor compensation, he thought. There was nothing to hear--no way of
+finding her by listening. And besides the absence of speech, there was
+the absence of _any_ sound.
+
+He forced himself to place one leg after another, and all the horror in
+the world crept into his brain. He wanted to turn around and speak to
+those in back of him--to stop the one-way tide of stroll and ask some
+questions. Just when had the last plane blurred by with jets roaring?
+And when had the Conquerors marched outside the wall, boots thudding,
+rifles clanking on canteen pack and buckle? When was the last atomic
+blast--a distant rumble causing the ground to tremble beneath the
+pavement?
+
+Months; two or even three, it seemed to him. His long legs faltered and
+he almost stumbled. Then he remembered his one purpose, and pushed the
+thoughts from his mind.
+
+By alternately hurrying and slowing his steps, he was able to pull
+alongside some trainees and let others catch up with him. With sidelong
+glances he tried to find Adele. He had to see her--to convince himself
+that she had not forgotten the happy years together.
+
+It had been between buildings three and four--the women's living
+quarters--that he had seen her that first and only time six months ago.
+He was walking quickly and pulled up beside her. One sidelong glance
+was exchanged and her face had filled with terror. Then she almost ran
+from him. He followed, but the weird chase ended after she actually
+turned to look back.
+
+Afraid she might commit further offenses in her efforts to avoid him,
+he had slowed his pace to a crawl and soon lost sight of her after
+turning a few comers. Now his time was running out and he had to see
+her. She should be wiser in the ways of the camp; they could exchange a
+glance and separate. But that glance would tell him whether or not she
+too had become a machine.
+
+_If she's alive_, a corner of his brain whispered. But he refused to
+think of her as being dead.
+
+The sun was getting hot and the faces he looked at were
+indistinguishable in their blurry outlines. Nausea and dizziness
+returned and he could no longer concentrate on his search.
+
+_It's too late_, he thought. The second treatment had finished his
+chances.
+
+He tried thinking of other things, to remember his feelings from the
+time of the blast to the day he had passed through the new brick wall
+into the project. But all he got was a blur of fear. Fear then, fear
+now, and fear until the day they would kill him.
+
+"Sick of fear!" a voice rusty from disuse rasped out. "Sick of the
+whole mess!"
+
+It was with a sense of complete surprise that he realized his mouth was
+open and it was his own voice shouting.
+
+"It's over," he rasped and turned around to face a startled, thin-faced
+woman whose blue eyes peered at him--but not with terror. He looked at
+her, his mouth sagging open.
+
+"Over for both of us," she whispered, and moved toward him with arms
+outstretched and trembling.
+
+He tried to turn and run, to save her from further violations, but she
+grasped his hand.
+
+"George." And she was in his arms. "My third offense--when I stopped
+walking. There's nothing to lose now."
+
+The shuffling of feet continued about them as they embraced, and she
+talked hurriedly as if afraid that the few hours before the evening
+meal would not be enough for all she had to say.
+
+"I've walked behind you all these months. I was sure you would say
+something if you saw me and I didn't want you to be punished. Each
+morning I waited until the last moment before leaving the women's
+dining room--until you came by looking for me. Then I'd walk behind
+you, sometimes within touching distance. Once I had to wait too long,
+and then I went to Punitive for the second time. But it was all for
+nothing. I hoped you would go free, but it was all for nothing."
+
+He kissed her then and she had to stop. When he took his lips from
+hers, they both turned to the nearest detector bulb. They were being
+watched, but what difference did a thousand violations make now?
+
+She was talking again, and actually smiling. "You look distinguished in
+a beard!"
+
+He laughed, and saw the nearby trainees pick up the forgotten sound. He
+took her lips back to his own and heard the shuffling feet slow down
+all around them. And the fear was gone.
+
+"Let's go to the excavation," he said. "We'll sit down at the bottom in
+privacy and talk and laugh. We're free, Adele, and the rest doesn't
+matter now."
+
+He put his arm around her waist and they strolled against the pattern,
+the rigid walkers parting before them. When they reached the huge pit
+he kicked at the OFF LIMITS sign and was surprised at how easily it
+fell. Then he took her hand and moved down the steep, sandy slope.
+
+It wasn't until Adele moaned and closed her eyes tightly that he saw
+that the bottom of the pit was covered with stones--and clean white
+bones. The blood pounded in his temples as he stared at the piled
+skeletons and chemical stained earth. And the few hours of peace was no
+longer enough.
+
+Adele helped him pick up stones, until his hands and her cradled arms
+could hold no more. Bulbs, at least, could be broken.
+
+Up they climbed, and when they reached the pavement there were many
+trainees shuffling slowly past the spot where the sign lay.
+
+He threw the first stone at a detector bulb while still some distance
+from it, and his ruined eyes failed him. But the next time he stood
+directly beneath it and the shattering of glass seemed as loud as the
+atomic blast had been. Down the street they went, smashing bulb after
+bulb, retrieving their missiles so as to have enough to last. And all
+the trainees moved slowly behind them, on up to the last bulb in front
+of the Administration Building.
+
+The new sound was a sharp crack, and someone screamed in a rusty voice.
+He turned to see one of the crowd twitching on the pavement, then
+followed the faces turned up to Conqueror Punitive's window. There was
+a shadow there--a shadow with a rifle.
+
+"The last bulb," Adele said. "Smash it."
+
+He drew back his arm and the crack of rifle fire reached him a second
+after the hot streak creased his shoulder. But he wasn't hurt, and
+threw the stone.
+
+As the glass shattered there was an eruption of strange language from
+the building--a terrified shouting. The trainees stopped walking, then
+broke into frenzied movement and hoarse shouts. They pushed George and
+Adele aside in pursuit of the gray-uniformed figure running toward the
+gate. The third shot was inside the building, and then the crowd picked
+up the fleeing Conqueror. His screams died quickly.
+
+Into the building the Americans poured--shaggy skeletons shrieking
+hatred. By the time George and Adele followed, men and women stood
+silently in the rooms and halls. Punitive looked ridiculously small
+crouched in a corner, his head back, the rifle between his knees with
+the barrel in his shattered mouth. The total number of gray-uniformed
+bodies was six, all but Punitive killed by the Americans.
+
+But the trainees began to file from the building and run back toward
+their rooms, for the body in the large room filled with complex
+electrical equipment was lying in front of a high-powered sending
+set--a radio whose tubes still glowed red.
+
+George looked at the radio, then at Adele. "They sent for help," he
+whispered. "Soon, every American here will be dead. And it's because of
+us."
+
+She didn't answer, and he expected no answer. The room grew dark as
+they stood looking at the humming set. Then he fumbled over the dials,
+switched the current off, and led her out into the street.
+
+There was no whistle for the evening meal. The streets were empty, and
+the silence hemmed them in like a solid wall. They walked toward the
+men's feeding hall.
+
+Passing through the hall, they entered the door leading to the kitchen.
+There were huge electric stoves and further on, wheat and sugar sacks
+piled ceiling high. In a large bin they found various canned goods--the
+Conquerors' personal food supply. The stoves worked, and Adele found
+an opener and pots in the glare of the unshaded light bulbs. They ate
+quickly; soup, meat, several cans of condensed milk. Then they left the
+basement and walked into the balmy evening air.
+
+
+
+On the grassy spot in front of the Administration Building they loved
+each other desperately. Afterwards, they spoke of God, of what they
+believed would come after death, and were comforted. But they did not
+talk of what would happen to the others--that was too painful for words.
+
+Before he fell asleep, with Adele breathing regularly beside him, he
+once again strained his ears to hear something--anything--from outside
+the wall. Except for the ever-present hum of the oil-fed electric
+generators in the Administration Building, there was nothing. Not the
+bark of a dog or the scream of a cat or the clash of inanimate objects.
+Even the wind was dead. But he was too exhausted for fear, and slipped
+quickly into sleep. Once during the night, he awoke and raised his
+head to listen. When he lay back, there was a thought in his mind both
+terrible and full of hope.
+
+Adele awakened him in the morning. From the sun he could tell that it
+was past the time for the first meal. They went to the feeding hall and
+ate; then returned to the grassy spot. This time they found little to
+speak of and sat silently, watching the gate. They watched until the
+sun dipped low and shadows engulfed the silent buildings. Then they saw
+the first trainees slipping toward the feeding hall; the women moving
+toward the men's section in the need for comfort and protection.
+
+When George and Adele arrived in the kitchen, all the Americans were
+there. The women cooked the meal and whispered among themselves. The
+men sat talking, following the women with their eyes, trying to forget
+despair and certain death.
+
+They finished eating and sat quietly at the tables, husbands reunited
+with wives, boys and girls whispering to each other, all unwilling to
+return to the rooms, George spoke his thoughts.
+
+It was hard to speak aloud; he had kept his thoughts to himself for
+so very long, but he managed to speak quietly and calmly. He reminded
+them of the tactics the aliens had used to ensure obedience, how they
+had held out the promise of freedom as a reward for conformity. How,
+backed by the fear and terror they were able to inspire with their
+drastic punishments, they were able to enslave all the Americans and
+keep them toeing the mark. How they had probably felt secure enough in
+their conquest of the minds and bodies of their captives to leave the
+Earth in the hands of a few Punitives and a host of electronic gadgets.
+He told them, too, that the fact that no help had arrived despite the
+radio messages held the promise that the conquerors had no interest
+in Earth any longer; he assumed that they were busy elsewhere, or had
+merely conquered for the sheer joy of it, or that they lost
+interest ... any reason would suffice. The important thing was that
+they they were free again. Free to live and laugh, to love and to
+hope ... and to prepare a defense should the need arise.
+
+When he finished, even Adele looked at him with disbelief. But they
+all followed him to the Administration Building and one of the young
+men seated himself at the radio. Filling the room and overflowing into
+the hall, they waited. The youth knew his radios and manipulated the
+dials skillfully, but there was nothing except the crackle of static.
+With dread and hope mingled together, George listened to the empty
+airwaves--to the messages sent out on the sending set, and again to the
+barren, static response. Then he turned to Adele and smiled weakly.
+"We've more than Noah had," he said, and held her trembling hand.
+
+It was not until two days passed and the fuel for the generators had
+been exhausted that the first search party ventured into the city. The
+report was one word ringing hollowly in the feeding hall. "Nothing."
+
+Later expeditions utilized automobiles from the city's streets and
+traveled far out to other states. They returned with several haggard
+Americans and reports of some few surviving Conquerors. They also told
+of farms heavy with crops and of livestock wandering wild. But there
+were no large human groups; no signs of organized humanity anywhere in
+the world.
+
+Two months after George and Adele Lowery's revolt, the trainees left
+the housing area for the fields where they could raise food and plan
+their civilization. George rode beside his wife in the lead car. There
+was no joy or laughter in them, nor would there be for many years. But
+the wrecked city fell behind, the green and brown of the fields took
+its place, and somewhere in the motorcade a voice began singing.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outer Quiet, by Herbert D. Kastle
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59259 ***