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diff --git a/59259-0.txt b/59259-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd0a195 --- /dev/null +++ b/59259-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,469 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59259 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + 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 *** |