Doctor Time: A Novel of a Thousand Years Hence. Fantasy Novel by J. Calvitt Clarke

Doctor Time: A Novel of a Thousand Years HenceFantasy Novel by J. Calvitt Clarke1

byRichard Grant

Author ofMan Hater, etc.

n.d. [by internal evidence, likely written about1941-1942]

J. Calvitt ClarkeRoom 201

Richmond Trust BuildingRichmond, Virginia

https://www.academia.edu/8704813

Last revised, May 7, 2021

Papers of J. Calvitt Clarke, 1818-1970. Accession Number 13712. A Collection in Special Collections.The University of Virginia Library. Series II: Literary Manuscripts. Subseries A: Manuscripts of Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke, Jr. Box 9, Folder 1, “Doctor Time” by Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke, Jr., n.d.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. Fifty Years of Begging: Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke and Christian Children’s Fund. Bloomington, IN:Archway Publishing, 2018.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. Fifty Years of Begging, Revisions. https://www.academia.edu/works/44310902.

1 Clarke’s manuscript is an early, rough draft with some logical and other inconsistencies not yet smoothed out. Herenote the chronological conflict — in the title, the new civilization is 1,000 years old. Elsewhere he speaks about a2,000-year-old United society.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. “The Literary Life of Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke.” Paperback Parade: The Magazinefor Paperback Readers & Collectors (Mar. 2014): 20-49, https://www.academia.edu/8321111.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. “Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke’s Published Fiction: Covers and Dust Jackets.” https://www.academia.edu/19064905.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. “The Second Life of the Reverend J. Calvitt Clarke: Popular Novelist.” Annals: Journal of the Florida Conference of Historians. 22 (June 2015): 59-76, http://fch.ju.edu/fch_vol_22.pdf.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. “The Wreckage of the Great War: Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke’s Inspection Tourwith Near East Relief, 1921.” FCH Annals: Journalof the Florida Conference of Historians. 23 (June 2016): 11-24, https://www.academia.edu/35794784.

J. Calvitt Clarke III. “The Marxist Influence in Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke’s Literary Fiction.” Paper Presented to the Annual Meeting of the Florida Conference of Historians. Florida Gateway College, February 2019, 2020.

INTRODUCTIONJ. Calvitt Clarke IIIProfessor EmeritusJacksonville University

Dedicating his life to the welfare of children, Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke (1887-1970) was one of the twentieth century’s most successful charitable fundraisers. An ordained Presbyterian minister, during and after the Great War, Clarke worked with the American Committee for Armenian

and Syrian Relief and its successor, Near East Relief. Laboring among marooned Russian troops immediately after the war, he spent a few months with the YMCA in France. In the late 1920s, he helped set up the Golden Rule Foundation, an outgrowth of Near East Relief’s work, and then theChina Child Welfare Association. In 1932, Clarke helped found Save the Children, USA. In 1937 and 1938, he worked with Helen Keller and the AmericanFoundation for the Blind. For his crowning success, in 1938, he founded China’s Children Fund(CCF), which after World War II, he renamed Christian Children’s Fund. Today known as ChildFund International, under his hand, CCF became the world’s largest Protestant, nongovernmental organization dedicated to helping children. After leaving Christian Children’s Fund in 1964 and at an age when others retire, Clarke, with his daughter, founded Children, Incorporated,another child welfare organization that continues to make a significant difference for the world’s needy.2

Clarke had a second life of exceptional merit. He was a successful author, sometimes writing under his own name, often under the pseudonym of Richard Grant, and once as Carol Addison. Republished in paperback, one of his novels carried the name of Richard Lee. While he

2 Richmond Times-Dispatch, 18, 19, July 1970; Edmund W. Janss, Yankee Si! The Story of Dr. J. Calvitt Clarke and his 36,000 Children (New York:William Morrow & Co., 1961); John C. Caldwell, Children of Calamity (New York: John Day Co., 1957); Larry E Tise and Kristin Helmore, A Book about Children: The World of Christian Children’s Fund, 1938-1991 (Falls Church, VA: Hartland Pub., 1993); J. Calvitt Clarke III, Fifty Years of Begging: Dr. Calvitt Clarke and ChristianChildren’s Fund (Bloomington, IN: Archway Publishing, 2018).

publicly promoted the works he wrote under his ownname and used them to publicize his fundraising work, he never publicly recognized his significant— and more prurient — production under his pseudonyms.3

His fiction provides insight into Dr. Clarke’s primary life as a minister and professional fundraiser. Suspicious of prudery, in3 J. Calvitt Clarke III, The Literary Life of Dr. J. CalvittClarke,” Paperback Parade: The Magazine for Paperback Readers & Collectors (Mar. 2014): 20-49, accessed May 18, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/8321111; J. Calvitt Clarke III, “The Second Life of the Reverend J. Calvitt Clarke: Popular Novelist,” The Annals of the Florida Conference of Historians, 22 (June 2015): 59-76.

Clarke’s love novels include: “That Golden Circlet, Novel Fragment,” c. 1923, accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/8399666; “The Missionary,” c. late 1920s, accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/9994612; Carol Addison [pseud.], Virgin’s Destiny (New York: William Godwin, 1933); “‘Richest Girl in the World,’ Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke, Romance Novel, Manuscript Fragment,” c. 1933/1934, accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/8321460; Richard Grant [pseud.], Conflict of Desire (New York: William Godwin, 1934); Melissa (New York: William Godwin, 1934); Richard Grant [pseud.], Wanda (New York: W. Godwin, Inc., 1934); Richard Grant, Man Hater (New York: William Godwin, Inc., 1934), “Talk About Women — Man’s Puzzle,” c. 1935, accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/8407224; The True Light (New York: Arcadia House Publications, 1935); Castles in the Sand (New York:Arcadia House, 1935); Richard Grant [pseud.], Eurasian Girl (New York: Godwin, 1935); Richard Grant, Tenement Girl (New York: Godwin, 1935); Richard Grant [pseud.], Boarding House Blonde (New York: Godwin, 1936); Dream No More (New York: Gramercy, 1937); Richard Grant [pseud.], Teaser (New York: Godwin Publishers, 1937); Graduate Nurse (New York: Gramercy Publishing Co., 1938); and Richard Grant [pseud.], “Virtue Is Expensive,” c. 1952, accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/10040549. In “The Faithless and Other Literary Fragments,” accessed July 30, 2015, https://www.academia.edu/10399473, see “S-O-M-E D-A-Y,” c. 1923–24, 80; “Joan and Stuart,” c. early 1930s, 74–77; “Yvonne,” c. 1935, 66–72; “The Faithless: Suffer Little

his novels, Clarke painted a world in which Protestant-defined, Victorian morality — pummeled by the Great War, the Roaring Twenties, and the Great Depression — had crumbled. Without blushing,the Presbyterian minister openly discussed prostitution, premarital sex, adultery, group sex,out-of-wedlock pregnancy, abortion, sterilization,male and female masturbation, divorce, rape, and —at some length — male and female homosexuality. Many decades before its more widespread use, he even introduced the concept of gender and sexual fluidity.

Clarke’s writings reaffirmed much of the Social Gospel movement, a Protestant Christian intellectual movement prominent in the early twentieth century in the United States and Canada.The Social Gospel applied Christian ethics to social problems, such as economic inequality, poverty, inadequate labor unions, and poor schools— all themes in Clarke’s international organizational and fundraising work with groups such as Near East Relief, Save the Children, China’s Children Fund, and Christian Children’s Fund.

There was also a more secular flip side to this religious coin. While on his way home after his inspection tour with Near East Relief in 1921,Clarke occupied himself on his long train ride through the Balkans by reading Henry Van Dyke’s Camp Fires and Guide Posts.4 Inspired, he declared to

Children.” c. 1930s, 62–65; “The Faithless: Long Outline,” c. 1941, 5–11; “The Faithless: Short Outline,” c. 1941, 12; “The Faithless.” c. 1941, 13–61; and “Helen’s Choice: Proposed Story Plot,” aft. 1950(?), 78–79.

his journal, “I am a meliorist.”5 In the traditionof American Pragmatism, Meliorism holds that progress is a concrete reality and that humans canintervene to promote it beyond what natural processes can. Meliorism is at the foundation of liberal democracy and human rights and provided fuel for Clarke’s welfare work.

After 1933, Clarke published a series of “love novels” but nothing between 1938 and 1942. In the latter year, he turned to publishing hardboiled detective fiction, which he continued to write until 1960. In the 1950s, Clarke also published two adventure/fantasy novels. Besides his published fiction, there is a novel or two as well as several fragments of works that he had hoped to publish but never did.

Clarke wrote one of his unpublished novels, “Doctor Time: A Novel of a Thousand Years Hence,” likely between late 1940 and 1942 — while under the dark pall of Allied defeats early in the Second World War. Light on plot and action, in Dr.Time, Clarke imagined what a society — a world organization called “United” — might look like.6 4 Henry Van Dyke, et al., Camp-Fires and Guide-Posts: A Book of Essays and Excursions (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1921).5 J. Calvitt Clarke, “Rev. Clarke’s Journal: NER Inspection Tour, 1921,” Aug. 18, 1921, accessed May 18, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/9925915.6 For his optimistic view echoed in his memoirs, see J. Calvitt Clarke, “Fifty Years of Begging: Fragments of Dr. J.Calvitt Clarke’s Autobiography,” 26, accessed May 18, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/8347647.

Perhaps life should never have crawled out of the sea unless the idealism of a future brighter and happier world does come to pass, a day that needs no armies, no policemen, no jails, when locks on doors will no longer be needed and only antiques of a dim, dark past. Can we hope for such a day to come when the

Perhaps he was offering a secular prayer as well. It marks an effort, although not a conspicuously successful one, to move from strictly romance and love novels to fantasy and science fiction. Even so, the manuscript shines a bright light on his thoughts about the perfectibility of humankind andsociety.

This typed manuscript of “Dr. Time,” likely by Clarke himself, is an early draft. Despite his hopes for its eventual publication, he left it to lie fallow for whatever reasons. While trying to keep my editorial changes to a minimum, I have corrected the many typographical errors, misspellings, some grammar, including verb/subjectagreement, and too-frequent confusion. I have occasionally annotated the text.

world will be a brotherhood and hatred, malice, envy, and need for hypocrisy shall pass away? Are not men stupid when they plan to destroy nations and enslave peoples? Can they even trust their own professionals with some political change not to assassinate them? There can be no loyalty among those with bloody hands.The rule of love is greater than the rule of fear. It is because we do not trust one another that we live a life of fear.

Doctor Time: A Novel of a Thousand Years Henceby

Richard Grant7

Chapter 1

Goldie Furman opened her eyes slowly, yawned,stretched her supple body, and arched her toes. She gazed upward at her number 101 ceiling with satisfaction. After all, it was the nicest kind ofceiling, even if one of the most popular numbers and hence somewhat commonplace. No wonder so many others chose it. Even in daylight, it was attractive. Of course, at night, it was better when the lighted stars seemed so real and tinted the soft, snowy clouds. Her walls were good, too, aquamarine and the sand carpet that covered her floor. As used as she was to it, she still loved the feel of it, especially between her toes.8

Oh, it was good to be an Immortal, to be 7 Jeanne Wood, Rev. Clarke’s daughter, wrote a couple of pages critiquing “Dr. Time” on the back of Save the Childrenstationery which on the letterhead lists Dr. Clarke as a member of the Southern Committee. The frugal Clarkes often used old stationery as notepaper. An aspiring but failed novelist herself, she critiqued her father’s work, closing, “Well, that’s all, except I want to say don’t take my criticisms too seriously — they are, after all, only what I think — and other people may not agree with me. . . . I think the book would start a lot of discussion if it is published. It is pretty different from the usual run of things, and it certainly is timely.” In the late 1950s, Woodjoined her father and mother at Christian Children’s Fund, and in 1964 the three of them left CCF to form another international child welfare organization, Children, Incorporated.8 For a discussion of “Doctor Time,” see Clarke III, Fifty Years, 160-67.

alive.9 Everything was good in United. Her electric clock purred again. Its first purr had awakened her. In a minute, it would purr for the third time, and then she must get up, or she wouldbe forced to hurry to get to work on time. But it was good to lie still for that moment and think ofanother day.

It was Fifthday, and tomorrow was Sixthday, and she and Bruin were to spend it together. Bruinwas nice, really quite “different.” He had told her she was “different,” too.10 Did he really believe it, or did he tell all the girls that? Bruin had wanted to spend the night with her, but 9 Material needs met, the citizens of Clarke’s utopia did not die of natural causes, although some died through accidents. The need to replace its population was limited, and United allowed only the best men and women to breed — inother words, the society practiced eugenics. There was some abortion to keep the male/female ratio at 50/50. Later, Clarke will describe Children’s Isle, where the “breeders” produced the children, with no one knowing who the father ofa particular child was. The mother would nurse the infant for 5 days, after which, communal care socialized the children into United’s social norms. Training includes “exotic play” for the children.

While Clarke was writing this manuscript, he was putting together China’s Children Fund and its orphanages inwar-ravaged China. In the 1950s, Clarke and Christian Children’s Fund experimented with large institutions in HongKong — although exotic play was not part of his curriculum. He evidently saw advantages to such institutionalized care as on Children’s Isle, above all, when parents in war-torn lands could not fulfill their child-rearing duties.

Less kindly, Clarke’s eugenics also echoed Germany’s Lebensborn program, founded in 1935 to counteract falling birth rates and to promote Nazi racism. Clarke III, Fifty Years, 168-90, 212.10 “You are different,” with permutations, was the common salutation — simultaneously a question, plea, praise, and reassurance — about being different. In Clarke’s utopia, real differences among people were remarkably limited, and, in fact, social norms imposed strict conformity.

she was glad that she had put him off until some night the next Sixth. After all, it was nice to spend a night alone occasionally.

There — the purr again, she must get up. Withanticipation, she placed a barefoot upon the sand carpet, then the other. She slid her toes through the soft, clinging texture. Bodily sensations wereso important. What was the slogan? Slogans were not quite the thing anymore. Oh, yes, of course, “The delights of the flesh temper the lure of the spirit.” She must have been a mere child when she was taught that, probably not more than thirty or forty years old. And a child did not stop growing until they were almost a hundred. It was in Awakening Class when the teachers were explaining the difference between boys and girls and what wasexpected of them. The play they were taught was socharming. No wonder visitors loved to come to Bermuda, the Children’s Isle, and watch the exoticplay.11 It was awfully cute. Imagine one actually having to be taught such things.

As Goldie was thinking such innocent thoughtsof her childhood, she was busy. Crossing the room,she had removed her nylon pajamas. She stopped under the shower and hesitated. What scent did shewish that day? Of course, her usual scent was sea.She remembered the hours she had spent deciding 11 Not part of CCF’s curriculum for children in its institutional care, United’s education and training for children in “Doctor Time” included “exotic” play. In his manuscript, Clarke used the words “exotic” and “erotic” interchangeably. He probably wanted to use “exotic” as a euphemism but occasionally miswrote “erotic,” which was closer to his true meaning. Clarke’s contention that such play for children creates well-adjusted, sexually liberated adults doubtless discomforts many. For more on Children’s Isle, see esp. 143-49 below.

what was to be her life scent and how she had finally decided that to always smell like the sea was suited to a blonde. Of course, it was very popular with the blue heads, but then it went wellwith her golden hair and her name. And it was sucha lean, simple smell. It was true, “simplicity wascomplex.” There, she must get over thinking slogans. They were almost passé, and for as young a girl as she, only one hundred and seven, if she used old-fashioned terms, her friends would think that she was trying and trying to be different in an obvious way.

She decided on hay. It always intrigued the men for a girl to remind them of freshly-cut hay in a field. She was glad that custom did not compel one to always stick to their usual scent. She turned the little knob for it, and the sweet-smelling water sprayed her. As always, the spray worked perfectly, the water starting at bodily temperature and gradually chilled. Her body was pink and glowing when she turned off the water andswitched on the drier. She dilated her nostrils, drinking through them the pleasing odor that permeated the shower room.

Her body was now perfectly dry. She waited a few seconds longer, shaking her curls and feeling them. They were dry enough, too, and she stepped back into the room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she reached for golden nylon stockings and drew them up her slender legs. Then she slipped into new, golden paper step-ins. The soft tissue caressed her body. She chose a pair of straw pumps, a deeper gold shade than her stockings. As usual, before putting on her dress, she turned on

the suction switch. She could feel the air pullingunder her step-ins and sucking against her body. It would remove every suspicion of dust in the room and draw it into the waste slit.

She straightened up her bed and turned off the suction switch. She picked out a light blue glass dress and pulled the zipper. A hasty glance in the fourth-dimension mirror assured her that she was presentable. Her clock informed her that she need not hurry. It had been only seven minutessince she had stepped out of bed.

In the hall outside of her apartment, she meta number of her housemates, many of whom she knew by name and a few by their numbers as well as names. Of course, it was a sign of endearment to address a person by their number. What ridiculous mistakes lovers made in trying to show their devotion in that way. Inevitably, they would get the numbers and letters mixed and sometimes get soconfused when teased about it that they would almost forget their own numbers. They said that Harold Dusay knew a couple of hundred and could rattle off the right number to whatever girl he was sleeping with and never miss even a letter. What a memory he must have. But the girls all knewhis reputation and were not taken in by it.

Goldie saw Margie Wendell ahead of her and quickened her steps.

“Hello, Margie. I hope you feel different this morning.”

“Goldie dear, different to you this morning. You know Harold Beck, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t believe I do. How to do, Harold.”

“Margie was telling me about you, Goldie. Sheurged me to date you. Have you a free night soon?”

Goldie pulled out her engagement book. Besides Sixthday with Bruin, she also had two other dates for the next Sixth. That was enough. Besides, she did not think that Harold was just her type. He was a black hair all right, but he did not excite her. She gave his face a quick glance of inquiry. If he was really very anxious to caress her, it would be unkind to refuse him. She did not imagine he was particularly anxious. Probably, he just wanted to please Margie because she had suggested it.12

“Do you mind asking me some other time, Harold? I have had quite a lot of dates lately. I really should be more celibate for a few days.”

“Why, of course, but I really mean it. Your legs are perfect.”

“Thank you. I’ve been told they are one of myvirtues.”

“A curved line is the pleasantest way home.” There I go again, a slogan, Goldie.”

“He’s terribly old-fashioned,” Margie laughed. “I’ve had him twice now, and you’d be surprised.”

12 A decade after “Dr. Time,” Clarke wrote “Virtue Is Expensive,” in which the two young virginal heroines in a far less utopian landscape discussed their prospects for love. To Pat’s worry about sexually insistent men, Jean replied that if she were a man, she would enjoy “One-night stands, a lot of different girls, even different races ... Asort of take your fun and leave it.” Pat thought this might be “hard on the girls.” Nonchalantly, Jean responded, “Not necessarily if she uses her head and handles it like she would an invitation to a nice dinner.” Grant, “Virtue Is Expensive,” 11. No one in “Doctor Time” took invitations to sex more seriously than those to dinner.

“Well, after all, Margie, I’m not an infant like you. I am an eight-hundred and eight.”

“Indeed, well, I’m six-hundred and ten, and awoman that old knows more than any eight-hundrederthat ever lived.”

“Six hundred and ten young, you mean. You’re just a kid. “Here’s the cafeteria. What are you eating?”

Goldie became separated from them. She chose a long glass of chilled orange juice, two eggs poached in butter, toasted muffins, and coffee. She always enjoyed breakfast, even after an opium night. It must have been almost a month since she had. She liked to take the opium pills best when she was spending a second successive night with the same man. But even alone, the dreams were pleasant. She did like realities better, though. It was true that dreams could be more fantastic. Maybe Firstnight after spending the Sixth with Bruin, she could dope up. That is if he wanted hertwo nights in succession. Still, men were more constant than women. Some of them acted as though they would be content to sleep in the same bed night after night. Didn’t they have any imagination?

Thinking such idle thoughts, she took the elevator to the roof and caught the History Building Airplane. She had more time for reflection on the plane. Traffic seemed unusually heavy. They seemed to be held up at every intersection. The radio had been full lately of the traffic problem. Goldie sighed. She had bettertake the moving walk every other morning. It was slower and not so nice, but one could not be

selfish.One had to watch oneself to keep proper

balance. One could err on the side of unselfishness, too. There was one’s duty to alwaysbe happy. Her brow knitted. It was quite a problem. Everyone belonged to everybody else, and it was your duty to be happy so others could enjoyyou. Yet, if everyone took the airways travel to and from work, it would be awfully congested. She knew what she would do. She would eat breakfasts the mornings she took the moving walk on the roof with waiter service. That selfishness would balance the other unselfishness. She would have toget up considerably earlier, but then it was her duty.13

Arriving at the History Building, she took anexpress elevator down to the two hundredth floor where she worked. She had been there five years now and had one year more for, of course, everybody changed their profession every six years.14 The next six would have to be a drudgery 13 United’s essentially government-less utopia could not survive without self-exploitation, i.e., the individual’s endless need to be unpossessive, unselfish, and always polite. The need to not waste United resources and worse, the duty to always be happy. What can be more oppressive than that?14 Not everything was about sex in United. Clarke’s Immortals, men and women, regularly switched between doing unskilled and intellectual work (see dentist p. 128), although if someone were especially good at a job, he might stay with it for some time (see “pea girl” p. 143). This rotation of jobs/professions was an essential part of an Immortal’s life. In consequence, no one looked down on thoseperforming menial work. Two strains of thought likely informed Clarke’s ideas here. The first was the Presbyteriansense that any work, regardless of its nature, if well done,is a gift to God and all should respect it as such. Clarke was an ordained Presbyterian minister.

profession. But six years went fast enough, even in the drudgeries. And everybody was particularly nice to you when you were a menial worker.

Goldie went to her desk. Her particular job was compiling information on the Second Dark Age that followed the Second World War. What a fiend that man Hitler must have been.15 And what a deathhis own German people gave him. They burned him in

The other was Marxism and Clarke may, or may not have been fully conscious of its influence on him. After all, some of Marx’s socialism was part of the progressive thoughtand parliamentary socialism of the time. Freed of the Calvinist worldview of his congregates, it is likely that a young Clarke enjoyed salon-like discussions of such ideas. See his autobiographical novel, “Ex-Minister: Autobiographical Novel by Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke,” 5, 128-30, accessed May 18, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/9466317.While always religious, for a minister, or, perhaps, as a minister, Rev. Clarke held a harsh light to his beliefs and to his fellow believers. His writings were his vehicle for his interrogations.

Clarke’s condemnation of selfishness and possessiveness — not limited to “Dr. Time” alone — mimicked Marx’s vision that under Communism everyone, fully liberatedand unoppressed, could be anything and everything. Any individual could do one thing today and another next, “to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner,” just as he wished “without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, herdsman or critic.” (Karl Marx, “The German Ideology, 1845: Part I: Feuerbach, Opposition of the Materialist and Idealist Outlook Marx,” accessed May 26, 2019, https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1845/german-ideology/ch01a.htm.

Despite his sharp critique of rapacious capitalism during and even before the Great Depression, Clarke was no Communist sympathizer. He denounced murderous Russian Communism after the Great War. See J. Calvitt Clarke III, The Wreckage of the Great War: Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke’s Inspection Tour with Near East Relief, 1921,” FCH Annals: Journal of the Florida Conference of Historians 23 (June 2016): 11-24, accessed May 25, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/35794784. And he had every reason to hate the Chinese Communists, who would kick his child welfare organization, Christian

oil, slowly with just a little fire under him at first. How awful! They were insane in those days. They laughed at his screams. What a time! The poorGerman creatures almost had eaten all of themselves up when the Americans and what was leftof the English and Chinese interfered. All of the subject peoples of Europe had disappeared by then,perished of hunger. And Asia was not much better, except in Western China. The Men of the Great White God, as the Germans had called themselves, had collapsed rather suddenly when they were unable to conquer America. They had almost succeeded, and when they were driven off for the last time, they left a sad waste behind them. Washington — how they vented their spite against that capital — was a heap of rubbish. And New Yorkhad looked as if some huge giant had scalped it, run some blunt sword across the top of its tallestbuildings, and buried thousands beneath the fallenwreckage. But out of the chaos had come order, a new order. The new world was born, and now it was two thousand years old.16

Children’s Fund, out of Mainland China between 1945 and 1949.15 In their understanding of the Second World War, the Immortals focused almost exclusively on Germany. This fixation seems odd. After all, as he was writing his manuscript, Clarke was starting his philanthropic organization, China’s Children Fund. This work focused his nonfictional attention on the horrors of Japan’s war in China. Only much later in the manuscript does Clarke mentionChina’s victory over Japan (and Germany) which suffered its fate as had Germany. A year or two earlier, he had written about the war China and humanitarian aid in a romance manuscript, J. Calvitt Clarke III, “Chinese Nurse,” https://www.academia.edu/works/42235224.16 It is hard to avoid comparisons between “Dr. Time” and the nearly contemporaneous screenplay by H. G. Wells for the

In a way, Goldie decided, as she spread her history books about her, she would be rather glad when she got out of the history department. It waspretty depressing and made one so ashamed of the savagery out of which the human race had come.

Goldie’s desk, like all the other sixty desksin her room, was a soundproof booth. For five years now, she had spent six hours a day in it, five days a week. It was like a million other desk-booths in New York, the capital city of United. It was ten by twelve feet with Goldie’s desk and swivel chair, together with the two chairs for visitors — the visitors who never came.For no one but Goldie had entered her office in over a year. The suction switch did the cleaning automatically. Her television- telephone17 gave her what contact she needed with the manager of her department. As she needed volumes from the

1936 movie, “Things to Come.” Clarke never mentions that Wells or the film influenced him. That they might have done so, is conjecture. But both Wells and Clarke posit a societydevastated by war and the brutal life following that war. Both suggest that the sheer totality of the devastation cleared away for people, aided by futuristic technology, to rebuild and create something better. In fairness, however, Wells did not envision a utopia nearly as perfect as did Clarke.

Clarke devoted many long passages in “Dr. Time” to theworld of a thousand/two thousand years before, when possessive people had created the terrible destruction of the two world wars of the twentieth century. While the very totality of that destruction swept the way clear for creating a new world order, Clarke is light on the mechanismof that transformation. In any case, Clarke’s fantasy world leapt forward to portray the peaceful tranquility of massivecities and technological development — although his imagination rose, at best, to only mediocre science fiction.17 Crude experimental television became available in the late 1920s, and in 1939, RCA began experimenting with television broadcasting in New York City.

research library, she fetched and carried them herself.

The little room was done in pale green, as were all such offices. Science had proven that that particular shade of green was most restful tothe eyes. It was lighted by magic daylight, which seethed through the ceiling and walls. This light came on automatically when she opened her door. Shutting the door did not affect it. The mechanismwas so arranged that the light came on and shut off at alternate opening and closing of the door. She would open the door, and the light would come on. Close it, and it remained on. When she left, opening the door a second time and closing it automatically turned the light off. Light, of course, cost United very little. Excess light fromthe sun was concentrated and stored up in great chambers a mile under the ground and used when needed.

Goldie, sitting back in her chair after adjusting the pressure in her cushion — it seemed a little too soft to her, and she let a little more air in — thought how funny it was that peoplein the old days often used to get their light fromwindows. Their air came in from the streets in thesame way, too. Goodness, the building she was in did not have a single window in all its six hundred stories. Only special buildings, taller than the usual six hundred-floor buildings, had windows on their upper floors for the recreation and restaurant floors. There would be nothing to see if six hundred-floor buildings had windows except the walls of similar buildings across the street. That was why she liked the airways. With

no windows in her office or apartment, it was niceto see the sky and the expanse. Even with sky ceilings with their stars and clouds that looked so natural, one did feel hemmed in at times.

She opened one of the books on her desk to the place she had left marked the day before. She pulled her Dictaphone box a little closer and pressed the key that put a new record in place. Still, she did not immediately begin her work. It always seemed to take a few minutes to get startedat her six-hour grind. She marveled as she had so many times at the little key, which she would turnwhen a red light showed her that she had used up the record. Turning the key would drop the record.She did not know how many floors below where all the records were transcribed. She marveled at the remarkable machine that re-spoke the words that she spoke into the record and typed those words inneat pages of sixty sheets and then bound them into similar volumes to the ones she had on her desk. It was a long day since those times she had read about when there was a profession called “stenography.” It seemed that in those days, workers spoke to other workers who took down theirwords, using some special quick kind of writing they had learned. Then later, they went off by themselves and laboriously, with the use of crude machines, copied what they had put down in their books, or sheets, or whatever they used.

Imagine what a stupid system! First, you had to say what you wanted to another person, and thenthat person had to copy it all over again. They had some kind of a machine that you actually had to make every letter on. Once, Goldie, for the fun

of it, wrote a letter to a man she was seeing a good deal of at the time. It was silly when she could have gotten him on her television-telephone and talked to him at her heart’s content. But in the old days, some people did that as their life’swork, making each letter for each word. She understood that most of these stenographers were women and that men told them what to record. She wondered if a man and a woman working together that way used much of their time in lovemaking. Probably not. Petting was frowned upon in those unenlightened days. Sin wasn’t just being selfish in those days. From what she had read and heard, lecturers say most everything that was nice was a sin among the barbarians.

It was a sin in those days to get doped up. There were laws against exotic movies and books. It wasn’t even considered nice for a person to draw interesting pictures or even have them to look at. If you saw something in a store and took it, it was called stealing, and they headed you off and put you in a little room and kept you there. Against your will, of course. And they wouldn’t let you out no matter if you asked them and explained that you had an engagement. How mean. You had to have money to buy what you wanted, and money was scarce, although some peoplehad more of it than others, which was very unfair.People worked all week to get some and then tried to make it last for another whole week until they could get some more. Even the weeks were a day longer, which made it worse.

But the very worst thing of all about those unenlightened creatures is that they punished

themselves by inhibitions against doing the most natural things when those things were pleasant. Some of them even went so far that they would not wear jewelry ornaments on their clothes because itwas considered worldly, which meant sinful. You would think that the world wasn’t the most wonderful of all places. But then it wasn’t in those days at that. Far from it, when people got sick and grew old and always and ever hanging overthem was the fear of death. Imagine what it must be to live, knowing that you had to die. How did the poor unfortunates ever have the ambition to goto school and to learn things and grow? What was the good of it when in such a short time it all came to an end? It was preposterous!

She was certainly fortunate that she had not been born way back there in those hideous days. Now no one ever got sick. No one ever grew old. One ceased to be a minor at ninety, and they were full-grown then and always stayed at ninety physically for all time. So, they were always in the prime of life, always young for love, for the zest of living. And they were not building up themselves for annihilation.

Medicine was an interesting profession. What was it she had heard over the radio the other day?The lecturer had said, “Surgery is still in its infancy. We are darkly ignorant of its possibilities.” People still did die of accidents,mostly airplane crashes. If you were too badly mashed, surgery could not put you together again, although a thing like losing a leg or arm could bemade all right. They saved the good arms and legs of those who died, and it was just a matter of

getting your right side and grafting it on. Of course, there was still the leper colony, the Isleof Pines. It took its name from an old disease, long since disappeared, and the custom in those days of isolating people suffering from it. Now the leper colony was for disfigured unfortunates that still wanted to live. There were only a few thousand of them, and they could still have fun among themselves. But some preferred to go into the gas rooms and end it all. That was the reason why society had to still breed a few children and set aside some of its very best men and women to reproduce. It was a great honor, to be sure, but it disfigured a woman’s body during the two years it took to bear a child. Science had found that a child was better if its birth was slowed up. That would be a funny experience for a girl to be a mother.

Goldie felt that she ought to quit her daydreaming and get to work. Still, it was somewhat along the line of her work, trying to figure out the lessons of the past. Therefore, it was not cheating on United to let her mind wander back into the gloom of the past. There was a difference of opinion about those times. Some feltthat the hardship made the race brave then. Othersfelt that the continued cruelty of life really made the race timid and afraid. Now there was really nothing to fear, so that one did not have to be brave. Bravery was even taught to children. But people all living under uniform conditions dideven make people look alike and not alike. So, children were taught, and everybody strived to be as different as possible. Science had discovered

ways to give Immortals different shades of hair and eyes. In the old days, for instance, no girl had really green eyes or blue hair. That helped a great deal, but still, one had to strive to be different. Some men and women had it, and Goldie had been told often enough that she had it. Different appeals. It was terribly important.

The barbarians had it and never thought anything about it. That was about the only nice thing they did have. Crude, ignorant things that they were, they still were superior to the lower animals. They had their dreams. They composed music and literature and painted pictures. Many ofthem spent the best years of their lives in acquiring what passed for an education in those days and then had such a short time to use it. It was even worse for them because they were divided into family units. The mothers who gave birth to children kept their children. They and the fatherswho begat them lived together, the father earning money to buy food and the other necessities of life.

Well, money was a thing of the past. Everything belonged to everybody. Even an everybody belonged to everybody. You just took what you needed and wanted, except that you could not be selfish and take to the extent that you deprived others. That was a sin.18

18 Here and elsewhere in his manuscript, Clarke writes about“sin,” “sinfulness,” and “guilt.” Although a reverend, he had secularized sin, emancipating the notion from the demands of a higher deity. Instead, United’s rigorous education socialized the notions of “sin” and “guilt” just as profoundly into its citizens as had religion in pre-United times. Selfishness was the ultimate sin, and if United’s citizens fell to its temptation, society would

Goldie opened the book before her and began reading. Her particular specialized task was to pick out from history’s recording the influence ofsalesmanship on the character of human beings. Civilization, so-called, in the past, had been built up largely on salesmanship. Everybody sold to everybody else. There was a great deal of competition and waste in this selling. It was so great that men and women actually lied to each other in order to compete with one another!

Goldie spoke into her Dictaphone, “According to historical records in the period shortly beforethe Great World War in what was then the United States, there were a number of books written on how to win and influence friends.19 It was part ofthe salesmanship plan. One made friends not for the mutual pleasure such friendship might bring but in order to more easily persuade those “friends” to buy something. Salesmanship was a very corrupting influence, making liars and hypocrites of the human race.”

crumble.19 Clarke had in mind self-help books such as Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People (New York, Simon and Schuster, 1936).

Chapter 2

Goldie’s bedside television-telephone spoke in its Oxford English, “Please answer me. Please answer me.”

Goldie shoved herself up on her elbow and leaned over toward it. She pressed the answer button and yawned into it, “Different to you.”

What pretty teeth you have, grandma,” Bruin’svoice and face came to her. “You yawned right in my face.”

“I’m sorry, Bruin. Hope you are different this morning.”

“You sleepyhead. What cute pajamas. But then you always are so precious when you first awake. Listen, I thought it would be fun if we started with breakfast together. Agreeable?”

“Why, you, it would be nice. Where, here?”“No, on the Mile Pier at Atlantic City.”“I’d starve before I got there.”“No, don’t take the plane. Use the tube. Use

the tube. You can catch the express at Four Hundredth Street and be on the pier in a half-hour.”

“I suppose I could. It would be nice to eat out in the open under the morning sun. That is if it is clear.”

“I inquired what the weather is out. Warm andclear, Goldie. Shall I meet you in a half-hour? I’ll get a table as near as I can to where we ate last time.”

“Fine, Bruin, I’m ducking for the shower now.I won’t be late. Bye till later.”

“Goldie.”

“Yes?” “Don’t forget to wear your swimsuit instead

of a step-in. I will wear mine, too. Then we can leave our outer clothes on the beach and go right in the water.”

“The last time I did that, I found another girl trying to get into my dress. Mistake, of course. But she told me she was doped. Bad form, Ishould say, being doped out in public. She should have taken a release tablet. There, I’m sorry. That was an unkind remark.”

It doesn’t matter. I know you said it withoutthinking. You’re very unselfish, Goldie.”

“Darling, that’s sweet of you. That’s almost as nice as telling me that I am different.”

“You are both.”“Silly. Save your compliments until tonight

when we go to bed. I’m leaving now.” She turned off the switch and threw off her pajamas as she made her quick way to her shower.

She was fortunate with her connections. She took the express elevator from the one hundred thetenth floor, where she lived, to the street level.There, she consulted the directory. Elevator 104 would take her to the Twentieth Underlevel. A local was pulling into the station just as she reached it. She got off at Four Hundredth Street and only had a few minutes to wait for the Atlantic City Express. She found a seat, and, sitting down, she reached for the handles on the back of the seat before her. She held them firmly.Everyone else was holding on tightly. The train started, and even with her feet braced and with her pulling with all her strength on the seat

handles, it was almost too much of a shock to be entirely pleasant.

Generally, she enjoyed the shock. It was supposed to be quite good for one’s blood as it sent it flying through every vessel and vein. However, a mile a second increase in speed was pretty severe. There, the blue light fused into the car for a second. Goldie relaxed. It would be three or four minutes before the red light permeated the car, which was the signal that the train was going to slow speed. When the red light came on, she set her back against her seat and pressed with her arms and feet. Two minutes later,the train was at a complete standstill, and she stood up.

A man, who had been sitting across the aisle from her, pulled on her sleeve to attract her attention.

“I hope you are feeling different,” he said politely.

“Different to you,” she answered, smiling at him.

“I was hoping that you might not be dated.”“I’m sorry, I am. But I am sure you won’t

have any trouble picking someone up.”“I don’t anticipate any,” he answered

cheerfully. “I am sorry it is not to be you, though.” He put his arm around her waist, and theywalked together out onto the platform.

“I am meeting my lover out on the Mile Pier,”Goldie explained.

“I’ll see you to your local,” he answered, still keeping his arm about her.

He waited with her on the proper platform,

and then as the train pulled up, he drew her toward him and kissed her lips.

She responded kindly and with some interest. “I hope you pick up a peach,” she called back as she got on her train.

“Thanks,” he yelled back. “I hope so, too, and that we’ll both find each other different.”

Some of the passengers near Goldie smiled. A girl spoke to her. “Was he looking for a mate?” she inquired.

“Yes, what a shame. If you had just known, you could have told him that you were free. It is too late now.”

“Yes,” the girl answered reflectively, “I think he would have been nice to sleep with too.”

Goldie did not have much difficulty in finding Bruin, even if there were over two thousand tables on the end of the pier. She went to where they had eaten once before, and she foundhim only ten tables away. He stood up at her approach and pulled out her chair for her.

“Been waiting long?” Goldie asked, looking across the pier to the water.

“No, only about five minutes. What are you looking at?

One of those whales. They are the funniest things.”

Bruin turned in his seat. “They’re kind of fun,” he said.

Goldie nodded, watching the huge, black submarine that had every appearance of being a real whale. It was spouting a huge jet of water high in the air, and in its open mouth, back of the railing its teeth made, she could see some of

the passengers waving at the diners on the pier. She even fancied that she could hear the whale’s orchestra playing back in the ballroom. Even as she watched, the huge mouth began to close, hidingthe passengers, and the huge creature began sinking. She knew just what would happen. All of the lights would go out all inside of the whale, and the crew would go around shouting, “We’re lost! We’re wrecked! We’ll all suffocate down herein the bottom of the sea!”

Most of the passengers then would set up an awful wailing and pretend to be terrified, all except those who would take advantage of the few minutes of darkness to be romantic. Others would stumble around in the darkness, bumping into one another at random or purposely and squealing and acting like children. It was a duty they owed society to get as much fun out of things as they could. After a while, the lights would come on again, and the whale would rise to the surface andstart spouting another jet of water. The whales were a pretty popular diversion.

“Want to go on one?” Bruin inquired.“Oh, I don’t know. Right now, I am more

interested in food. I feel just like having a strawberry instead of orange juice this morning.”

A waiter approached. “And what would you two lovers have this morning?” he asked cheerfully.

Goldie looked up. “Oh, hello. We weren’t together last night,” she explained.

“That’s too bad,” the waiter answered. “Tonight, I suppose.”

“Yes, sure. I don’t know what Bruin is having, but I want a giant strawberry, a couple of

fried eggs with their yokes naked, Smithfield ham,20 Crêpes Suzette, and coffee.

“Right. And you, Bruin” The waiter turned to him.

“It sounds all right. Make it ditto. This seaair does something to the appetite.”

“No better tonic than it for eating and loving,” the waiter murmured as he moved off.

“You did not forget to wear your swimsuit instead of your step-ins, did you, Goldie?” Bruin asked.

Goldie reached toward the front of her dress and pulled the zipper. “See for yourself.”

“Good,” Bruin nodded approval. “We don’t wantto go in right after eating. We could walk back tothe beach instead of taking the pier car.”

“Yes, let’s. We may find some amusement alongthe way that we’ll want to take in. There is pretty near everything you could think of on this pier.”

“Yep, I’ve always liked the old thing better than some of these newer, longer piers. Here comesour first course.”

The waiter set a large dish with a strawberryin it before Goldie.

She sank her spoon into its soft lusciousness. “Perfect!” she exclaimed. She pouredthick cream over the strawberry, which was about the size of an apple. “I don’t see how they get them so good. One never needs sugar, and they are always dead ripe.”20 Traditionally, a Virginia delicacy. Genuine Smithfield hams are cut from the carcasses of peanut-fed hogs, raised in the peanut-belt of Virginia. They are cured, treated, smoked, and processed in the town of Smithfield in Virginia.

“The real trick,” Bruin explained, “is to serve them at just the right temperature, neither too cold nor too warm. Mine is just right, too. They say they learned to freeze food sometime between the Little World War and the Great World War. But then you should know all about that. You’re working in history.”

“What is your work, Bruin? You never told me.”

“I suppose you might call me a street cleaner. I clean out the wilted roses at the monuments.”

“Really? That’s romantic,” Goldie answered, thinking of the charming custom. When New York hadbeen rebuilt after the Germans left, the streets had been greatly widened. Most corners had a circle in the center with some kind of a fountain.On the streets, one seldom was without the sound of running water. The corners usually had a monument of some kind or other, generally of some scientist who had discovered something that added to the people’s convenience and happiness.

A nice custom had arisen. No one knew just what pleased romantically inclined man had startedit. But to honor a new sweetheart he had had for the first time the night before, he had secured a red rose from a florist and placed it at the foot of a monument. An observer had questioned the reason for the rose, and the man had explained. The observer was pleased with the sentiment and wrote a letter about it to the newspaper. And in that simple way, a universal custom was started. Now no man would dream of neglecting to get a red rose and placing it at the foot of a monument

after his first night with a new girl. Bruin’s work, of course, was to remove them. To tenderly work among those roses! Each rose a love token of the bliss some happy couple had enjoyed — why, it was beautiful!

“Our lives are like roses, aren’t they, Bruin?” she sighed. “Fragrant and beautiful.”

“Yes,” he answered appreciatively. “You are agolden rose, and tonight I shall kiss your petals.The sea always makes me sentimental,” he added, blushing slightly.

“You need not apologize. I like a little sentiment.” She looked at him, and a teasing smilecame to her face. Of course, you should not forgetthat you named yourself Bruin. You should keep to your role. It’s a tempting name, suggesting that you might hug like one.”

“You ought to know, darling.”They finished their breakfast and looked for

their waiter to thank him. But he was busy taking the order of another couple and running his hand through the girl’s blue curls. The girl’s escort was looking on, pleased that his partner’s beauty had attracted the waiter’s attention.

Goldie and Bruin took their time about walking back on the pier toward the shore. They stopped to pause before the entrances of many attractions. They passed movie theaters, museums, trick riders, legitimate theaters, concert halls in which there were huge orchestras of two hundredor so musicians and often great choruses, dance floors, opium dens, and a church. In front of eachamusement was a list of attractions that could be seen within and an automatic dial that showed just

what part in the program was at the moment being conducted.21

None of these attractions happened to strike the strollers’ fancy, although they did hesitate in front of the church and read with some interestits program. Its services were continuous with devotional music and lectures by different men andwomen.

Neither of them had been in a church for sometime. Goldie said that she believed that it must have been a couple of years since she had attendeda service. “I don’t care so much for the lectures,” she explained, “although they do help one to remember that, ‘A world without ethics is aworld without trust.’”

“It’s the dim lights, the incense, and the pageantry you like, isn’t it, Goldie?”

“Yes,” she said, taking his arm to let him know that she was ready to move on.

“There is a lot I like about you as — as a woman,” he murmured, somewhat embarrassed.

She hugged his arm. She liked it, even if it was bad form to indicate that one might care for another in a way that went too far beyond the physical. One had to be careful not to develop what was sometimes called a “crush” on another person. Of course, some people attracted you more 21 Like Marx, Rev. Clarke in “Doctor Time” described religion, in effect, as the opiate of the people. In his utopia, neither religion generally nor Christianity specifically was essential to human happiness or fulfillmentother than as just another amusement on a Coney Island-like pier. People in United, not believing in God and immortal except for those few but pesky accidents, had little need ofhope in an afterlife or salvation. Without beginning or end,the physical world had always been, and just as had Marx, United’s citizens sought heaven on earth.

than others in their likes and interests. Goldie knew that a pretty girl like herself belonged to all men, and an attractive man like Bruin had an obligation toward girls in general. It was true that many lovers went together on and off for years and grew into each other’s lives. But everyone had to be extremely careful not to be exclusive. One must be faithful in actions and thought toward others.

The front of the Old Hill, they both stopped and nodded at each other. The program in front looked interesting. It was not one of those exoticOld Hills with its water tunnels lined with scenesof passion. It was a thriller with scenes, more orless historical, of crimes and tragedies that could have and probably did exist during the days before the Great World War.

They nestled down in the cushions of their boat, and the gentle current glided them into the long tunnels. The scenes raised goose pimples all over Goldie. All the gruesome crimes of thousands of years before were portrayed. The wax figures were very lifelike. More, there was an old man walking along an old-fashioned street lit by a single gas lamp, all unconscious of the sinister footpad22 stalking behind with his raised club ready to strike. Further along, was a group of children playing before a cave, and out of it had come a huge snake with its evil tongue protruding,and Goldie heard the rattle coming from its dripping fangs as her boat glided on. There were even more gruesome scenes of murders, of a man

22 Footpad: a highwayman operating on foot rather than on horseback.

being eaten alive by black ants that completely covered his body and even could be seen feasting on his eyes, and that awful looking ape choking a girl.23

It took them a half-hour to get through the tunnels, and they were breathing quickly when theystepped out of the boat.

“No wonder they have over the door, ‘Dedicated to the devil and all his works,’” Bruinexclaimed.

Goldie shivered.“I suppose United has such things so we can

understand what fear is like and how people had such terrors in the old days.”

“Exaggerated, of course,” Goldie said, “but Iguess it is good for us to see evil sometimes, to rub shoulders with sin. Funny that I enjoyed that pain.”

“It’s the primitive in us all. I enjoyed it too. Its effect is somewhat like opium, but different, too.”

“Oh, yes, quite. Opium is a sort of heaven. That was hell.”

“I know, Goldie, what we should do. That is if you are in no hurry for the swim.”

She shook her head.“We’ll go into the first rough house we see.

It will counteract the effect.” They found a roughhouse almost at the shore end of the pier. Going into the dressing rooms, they removed their clothing and got into playsuits.24 The first thingthat happened to them when they stepped into the

23 As a youth, Clarke loved Coney Island and its amusements.24 I.e., swimsuits.

hall was that a hidden air vent blew up from the floor so hard that they could hardly keep on theirfeet. Laughing and struggling, they made their wayon to get out of it. It was the hardest kind of work, for they were blown around as if they had noweight. Moving their arms as well as their feet, they as much swam out of it as walked. No sooner were they on the other side and before they had advanced ten feet, the floor beneath them gave way, and they found themselves on a slide. They sailed down the incline very fast. It was completely dark. The slide became less steep, and they slowed up.

Their slide emptied into another, much wider.Evidently, a number of slides poured to this widerone. The wider one had just a very gentle incline and was full of amusement seekers. Bruin became lost from her in the mass of laughing, struggling men and women. She shrieked his name in the darkness, and he did not answer. Several men answered, however, claiming to be Bruin and tried to get to her. Some man beside her was tickling her, and she fought back at him as best she could.Finally, she reached the end of the slide and, unscrambling herself from the hilarious revelers, she moved on to a lighted room and found Bruin.

She greeted him with, “I’d forgotten how muchfun these darn slides are.”

“Swell, except some blame girl got her shoe in my mouth. Your suit is almost backwards.” He straightened it for her. “Let’s get our wind before we go to new terrors.”

They rested a short while and then moved on. They entered a tunnel just wide enough for the two

of them to go abreast, and hidden sticks paddled them. They were not hit hard enough to really hurt, but they never knew when to expect to receive another spank, and it kept them jumping. Amechanical hand came down from the ceiling and gave Goldie’s head a pat. The side walls ejected padded fists that took pokes at them while hidden voices screamed at them, and a hideous winged creature kept darting at them and emitted weird shrieks. Then they came to a better-lighted room and stared at a sign which confronted them. “Now Your Troubles Are Over — Maybe.”

“Do you believe in signs?” Bruin asked. “I don’t, except for the ‘maybe.’ Let’s rest again.”

Hardly had the words left his mouth when the floor started shimmering. They struggled on a piece, and it started to roll. They entered another hall. It was covered with what looked likespider webs. The webs were really thin strips of gray velvet, but it did not help any to have hanging on the big velvet imitation brush back thewebs from her face. The lights suddenly went out, and the nature of the webs changed. They seemed tobe composed of some sort of metal, and some of thethreads were hot and some cold as ice. Goldie was beginning to wonder if it had not ceased to be funwhen a huge hand pushed against her rear and rushed at a furious pace, and she almost sailed out into the broad daylight at the exit of the rough house. Bruin was ejected at the same second.

They both looked angry and then laughed at each other. They continued down the board pier. Goldie stopped abruptly. “Bruin, we’re still in our playsuits!”

Damn! Bruin exclaimed, “another one of their tricks. I’ll bet half the people who come out forget. Come on back and get into our street clothes.”

“We’re not the only ones,” Goldie answered, pointing toward a couple, who were nonchalantly strolling along in front of them. The people the couple passed kept their faces straight but grinned appreciatively when they could not be observed. She thought that this is the kind we Immortals are. We are wise enough to always want to remain children.

Chapter 3

Across from the pier’s entrance was a bathhouse. “Just as I expected,” Bruin said, the beach here is full.”

Goldie looked at the posted notice. “Nearest Beach Not Filled Number 702, Near Cape May.”

She and Bruin descended to the subway. It only took a few minutes to arrive at 702. They went directly to the beach. It was unnecessary to go into the bathhouse because they had their swimsuits on under their outer clothing. They removed their clothing on the beach and stacked itin a neat pile. Goldie fixed the location in her mind so that she would not have any trouble in finding her clothes when she wanted them again. She noticed that most of the bathers had come similarly prepared and were undressing on the beach. She felt that same pride that always possesses her when she contemplated United’s smooth efficiency. The Atlantic Coast was one continuous bathing beach except for where inlets prevented swimming. Of course, all sewage was purified in the filtration plants before pouring into the sea. Even the water that lapped the docksin the East and North Rivers in the heart of New York was drinkable.

Goldie and Bruin ran to the water and splashed in. All Immortals were excellent admirers. When youngsters of ten, at the time whenthey were hardly out of the crawling stage, their teachers began to teach them to swim. Swimming wasconsidered the fourth greatest among the

recreations.25 New Yorkers used the northern beaches in the summer and the southern shores in the winter. Sometimes in the winter, Goldie had worked her six hours in the morning and spent a couple of hours on some Cuban beach the same afternoon. Hawaii and its surfboards were very popular for spending Sixthday, but it was not considered good form to go there more than once ortwice a year. It would be unkind to go more frequently as it would crowd the beaches there. But it did not matter so much since the artificialsurf beach had been built in different places. There were great indoor pools with sand beaches and waves so arranged as to be as perfect as the rolling shore-borne surf in Hawaii.

They stayed in the surf for a couple of hours. They swam for a while and then joined in one of two of the impromptu games that groups devised. United was such a friendly world and always ready to play. There were no such things asstrangers, and one could play with a new acquaintance as naturally as one would with a favored lover.

Pleasantly tired from their exertions, Goldieand Bruin sunned themselves on the sand for a while. Then, hunger claiming them, they gathered up their clothes and went to the bathhouse showers. They kept on their suits under the freshwater showers and then separated to go into the drying rooms. In almost no time, Goldie was perfectly dry, and it only took another minute forher to run her swimsuit through the dryer. It cameout dry as dust, and she dressed. She had to wait

25 Clarke himself never learned to swim.

a few minutes at the entrance of the bathhouse before Bruin appeared.

They went to a cafeteria for luncheon, specializing on food in keeping with their environment. Goldie was especially fond of lobster. She chose a large, broiled one, together with a bowl of clam chowder, a salad, a slice of upside-down cake, and coffee. “Think,” she said toBruin, “back in the old days, a girl had to be afraid to eat for fear she would lose her figure. Now, I’ve been a hundred and fourteen pounds ever since I’ve been grown up.”

“It must have been horrible in those days,” Bruin answered without much originality.

They strolled along the boardwalk and stoppedto play Bingo for a while. Goldie’s totals won forher a platinum pocket radio. It was a novelty. By holding it to her ear and adjusting a little key, she could get several stations. Bruin won a cartonof perfumed cigarettes. They did not bother to take their prizes. Goldie had had at one time a gold pocket radio. She had shown it to a friend athis apartment and forgotten to take it with her when she left. She had never bothered to go back for it. Bruin said he had enough cigarettes with him for the day, so he handed the carton back to the attendant.

They decided to go to the zoo. The Cape May Zoo was one of the largest in that section. Besides all of the old species, there were many new species that had been developed. Some of thesewere very beautiful, such as the new peacocks, which stood about five feet and whose feathers more a most gorgeous blend of purple and gold.

There were snow-white elephants, jet-black elephants, and the highly developed monkeys. Just recently, it had been decided not to let such monkeys breed. It was feared that they would become too intelligent to be happy as caged creatures and, of course, not intelligent enough to be permitted to mingle with society.26 There were even some of the old black flies that used totorment the human race. These flies were in a cagethat had air, water, and feeding tubes so arrangedthat by no possible chance one could escape. The practical annihilation of the fly, like gnats, mosquitoes, and other pests, had marked a great advance in human comfort. A wild insect of these varieties had not been discovered now, even on thegreat farms or in the wilderness parks for over two hundred years. Of course, there were many insects and germs whose breed was encouraged as they were helpful in plant fertilization and necessary to the human body.

Bruin told Goldie that someday he wished thatshe would go with him to the Desert of Sahara. A section of it had been retained in its usual form for sightseers. But most of it was irrigated and farmed. It was considered the most highly developed farm in the world. Science had been highly successful in developing synthetic foods, but the flavor often was not as good as that produced by nature through its plants and animals.26 In an America not that far removed from the Scope’s Monkey Trial, Rev. Clarke in this manuscript supported an idea alien to, perhaps, most Christians of the time — that God’s creation did not place man above the animals and only slightly below the angels. He, instead, was asserting that creation was along a continuum with no clear break between humanity and the rest of the animal kingdom.

Artificial honey, for instance, never tasted as good as that made by bees. Goldie did not believe that it was served any longer. Artificial food condensed in pills and tablets could be manufactured to meet all the needs of Immortals and would have made unnecessary many of the vast farms and animal ranches. But eating was a pleasure, so United spent two hours out of every six in producing tender steaks, juicy vegetables, and luscious fruits. Fish were bred as well as animals. Outside of the zoos and aquariums, there were no wild animals and extremely few wild fish.

Goldie said that she would be glad to go to Sahara sometime, although it did mean to her that Bruin was asking for a good deal of her time. After almost three hours of sightseeing in the zoo, they were both glad to go to a movie where they could sit down and rest.

Like most moving pictures, the one they saw went back thousands of years for the plot. The modern world was almost too perfect to make a goodmovie plot material.27 Almost all movies were of

27 That for plots, cinema had to reach back thousands of years dramatized just how bland United’s society was. In truth, without danger, there can be no courage, physical or moral. Without the unknown, explorers cannot exist. There can be no true adventure, no real excitement. Having eschewed space exploration — no boldly going where no one has gone before — United was left bland, smug, and self-satisfied. Without death, could their lives have had purposeand meaning aside from self-gratification and serving United? Citizens were reduced to finding joy in the newness of automatic toe manicure gadgets (see p. 159.) and discovering dissolving chewing gum that would not make a mess on the sidewalk (see pp. 40-41).

Clarke seems to understand what he had done. On p. 66,Goldie and Bluebeard went to the theater, and both were disappointed with the play. With a modern setting, they both

the adventure sort, except the exotic movies. Withtelevision, it was considered better form to see such movies in one’s apartment with one’s lover ora few friends, although there were some public exotic movie houses.

Adventure movies of the days when men and women faced dangers and escaped from the terrors of wild animals and equally wild savages were the most popular. Goldie especially liked pictures of pirates of those that had to do with a little company of men and women seeking gold or precious stones in some primitive land, full of swamps, snakes, and painted savages.

Occasionally she liked some of the pictures that had their scenes laid on Mars or some other planet. To be sure, they were entirely imaginary. No one had ever been to another planet. Science had developed ways of getting to them but no way to return. Huge machines were necessary to hurl a rocket to another planet. Plans were invented to hurl all the needed parts of such a machine to Mars, but it would take time to build them, and itwould be dangerous. Public opinion was opposed to such a venture. The civilization of the Planet

thought the author had struggled to create problems but had no success. Bluebeard added, “it’s hard to create any very important problems out of modern life You can’t get very excited over a boy making love when you know the girl is going to say yes if only because she is well-bred. You have to have handicaps and difficulties to make drama. I think itis rather helpless to try and squeeze it out of modern life.’” Perhaps, this realization explains why, despite his initial hopes, that Clarke never moved this project past this rough draft, and he never published it.

As I worked on this manuscript, I have wondered if it might make a decent storyline for some sort of futurist, adult, art movie.

Earth was practically perfect. If other planets could be colonized, it would greatly increase the number of Immortals who could enjoy life, but there was a general feeling that it was best to leave well enough alone. Of course, the earth could not last forever. Eventually, the forces of nature would destroy it. So United kept a staff ofscientists to study the possibility of a gigantic removal of the race to some other planet a millionyears or so hence. In the meanwhile, Immortals were quite content with the pleasant vistas of their own beloved earth.

Goldie and Bruin had dinner that night at an immense cabaret. They danced during and following the meal. Goldie found several nice partners and put down in her engagement book nights for severalweeks ahead. She was sure that several of the new men she met would be charming lovers. She was quite sure she had never slept with any of them before. She was not old enough to have the experiences that so many girls had of finding thata supposed new lover really had known them before.She guessed such couples had a good laugh when they remembered. It was strange how a girl never got weary of the great pastime. But then each sunrise was new and different, too, and beautiful.

About ten o’clock, Goldie and Bruin went to his apartment. She suggested that they see an exotic movie for a while, but she observed his impatience and gave a playful snap to her garter. He gave a groan and reached for her. His eagernessdelighted her.

Later, lying beside him, she pressed the smoke button at the head of the bed. The apartment

filled with lavender clouds. They were fragrant, spicy, and slightly doped. It was nice to lie there in the dreamy smoke. They talked about the fine day they had had together, about their beloved United, and how everyone in it was everybody’s friend, and all the world fearless without greed or selfishness.

“It is wonderful, Bruin,” Goldie said, “to know that I am desirable, that men want me, thousands of men.”

“Yes, but — Goldie, I feel drawn toward you in an unusual way. It worries me.”

“You mean you fool,” she hesitated, “sentimental toward me?”

“Well, I do. I can even understand why in theold days, a man wanted to live all his life with the same woman. I mean, how they got married.”

“Bruin, you shouldn’t think such thoughts.”“I know I am not being very delicate. I have

a confession to make. The last date we had — Well,two nights later, I was with another girl, and I was unfaithful to her. I thought about you.”

“That’s nothing much to worry about, Bruin. Some lovers aren’t so vivid. I remember someone else myself sometimes and purposely.”

“But I don’t mean what you mean. I thought about you deeper than physically. I thought about you as — as though you belonged to me alone.”

“Alone, Bruin? I could not possibly belong toyou alone. It wouldn’t be right. Others want me.”

“And you want others.”“Certainly. Naturally. What you suggest isn’t

quite respectable, is it?”“Oh, Goldie, I want to keep your respect. I

don’t want you to think I am queer or silly. I know it isn’t good form for a girl and man to go beyond the physical enjoyment of each other and the natural interest and friendship everybody has for everybody else. I know I should not feel an exclusive urge toward you. Physically you’re tops,but —”

“Bruin, let’s keep it on that finer basis. Physically, I enjoy you greatly. I like to talk toyou, too. I like to talk with the other men who share my kisses. But we must keep our relationshipon a decent basis, the clean attraction that our bodies have for each other.”

Some men and women must have more than that. Some couples go together for years, and you can’t tell me that it is just the physical attraction they have for each other.

[Much on this page of the manuscript is illegible]

.... are for our protection, Bruin.”Trust we accept them blindly? Haven’t we

minds of our own?”Of course, I felt there was something more to

the attraction that a man has for each other than simply going to bed together?”

Going to bed together, Bruin, and having an innocent, good time hurts nobody. Intercourse is ............. But to care sentimentally beyond the love we .... should have ..............where would it lead? You know what it led to in the past. .........would do more for her own child than she would do for another child. There was nationalism. A person’s nation came ahead of other

nations. It was all so selfish. It was all my own,my child, my nation. .... to that part of the world. They even .... all the unkindness toward others, what a lot of my country. Think of ........ they had wars.”

“You’ll think I ought to see a psychologist. Maybe I should at that. I never felt this way to any other girl.”

“What do you want, Bruin?”“If I told you, you would hate me.”“Hate you? You know it is a sin to hate

anybody. But you should tell me. We should never have thoughts that cannot be shouted for all the world to hear.”

“It’s hard to say, and I am afraid it is going to sound pretty awful to say it. But I feel as if I wouldn’t mind it a bit if we live together— always.”

Unconsciously, Goldie moved away from her companion. She did not immediately answer him.

He felt ashamed and wished that he had not spoken.

“Bruin, I want to try and understand you. I can’t believe that you mean what you say. Think what it would mean. Besides the unkindness toward others, what a lot of fun you would miss.”

“Nobody could give me any more fun than you do.”

“Surely, Bruin, you feel as I do. Every morning when I wake up, I feel an urge for life. Of course, it is partly my scented shower, the breakfast I eat, the trip by plane to work, or even the moving platform. There is my work itself and the movies and games afterward. All those

things that make life so pleasant for us, surrounded as we are with everything for our comfort and happiness, including that constant knowledge that everyone we meet, whether we speak or not, is a friend. But the real tonic of life islove. Like any other girl, I look at myself in themirror mornings and ask myself, “What new man willI meet today? Will he and I sleep together? Will he be different? Why no one wants to eat the same dish every day, and passion is so much more important than eating. In passion, variety is the intoxication. Besides, it’s normal.”

“But didn’t you ever meet a man who was so much better than all the rest that he made you feel that you didn’t want any others?”

“Heavens, no! No man could be that good. Don’t you see how wrong it is to feel that way? I don’t want to preach, darling, but think of your duty toward society. Everybody belongs to everybody else. One can’t be unkind. Even when some man shows a keen interest in me and I don’t want to reciprocate, I can always pretend for his sake. I’ve pretended to be in ecstasy more than once when, I’ll confess, I was only sleepy. After all, one has to be moral, dear.”

“I know you must have pretended lots of times, and I admire you for it. Don’t think that Iam indecent. Just the other day, coming home in the plane, a girl got talking to me and finally snapped her garter. I asked her home when I was not in the mood at all.”

“There, I know that you were all right. I think, though, a girl ought to be careful about snapping her garter until she is sure that he

wants her. It’s unkind to take advantage of his decency.”

“I don’t think she realized how I felt.”“I am sure she didn’t. Well, one always has

to do one’s duty. One has to pay a price for society. I own everything in the world but myself,but I myself am owned by everybody.” That is what has built up our society and rid the world of jealousy, envy, and fear.” Goldie smiled a bit apologetically for her sermonizing.28

“Yes, everybody trusts everybody, and we haveno prisons, police, soldiers, or laws.29 We only have our conscience. Forget what I said. Only we can be together soon, can’t we?”

28 Dr. Clarke’s fictional works continued, in effect, his preaching ministry long after he had left the pulpit. Even more than in his published Social Gospel novels of the 1930s, “Dr. Time,” subjects readers to sometimes brutal, long-winded sermonizing. While his writing in “Doctor Time” is not as compelling as is most of his published books, thismanuscript reveals much of Clarke’s deepest thoughts and reinforces themes he propounded in his earlier popular novels.29 Marxism — not Soviet Communism — sought to eliminate government, which, by definition, is oppression. By getting rid of possessions — the sense of having that corrupts the human personality — the innate goodness of human nature willrise to the surface. Human nature, in other words, is perfectible. By getting rid of possessions — the sense of having that corrupts the human personality — Marx envisaged “organized” anarchy, a society with no government, police, or laws to constrain and corrupt the human personality. Thissociology is the heart of Clarke’s fantasy manuscript.

In Clarke’s fictionalized utopia, there seemingly was no government either — only an ill-defined, amorphous “United,” reminiscent, perhaps, of Georges Sorel’s Marxist Syndicalism, which tried to explain how Marx’s society without government might actually work. Without private property, United’s citizens were unalienated — to use Karl Marx’s terminology — liberated to be fully themselves and happy.

“I sort of planned, if you wanted me, to let you have tomorrow night.”

“Did you, Goldie? That will be wonderful.”“It’s a date then. I’d like to dope. I

haven’t for some time.”“Dope? Oh, all right. Yes, sure, tomorrow

night. Do you have any dates next week?”“Why, certainly, two.”“Anybody special?”“No, not particularly. Do you know Fred

Wannamaker and — Oh, I’ve forgotten his name. It’sin my book. I had Fred before. This other chap is new.”

“I don’t know Fred. How about a date week after next?”

“That’s pretty soon, isn’t it?”“I suppose. How about the week after that?”“All right. Remind me in the morning to put

it down in my book.”He turned the light dim. He began gently to

kiss her. She murmured contentedly. “Now, isn’t this better, Bruin, than all your crazy talk? You can be nice.”

Chapter 4

Goldie and Bruin parted immediately after breakfast the next morning. Goldie took the History Building Plane, and Bruin descended to thestreet level. He walked along the little garden strip in the middle of the street to the corner. All streets had such a strip of green running the length of each block. The height of the buildings prevented the sun ever finding these little gardens, so ray lamps were used to promote the growth of grass, flowers, and shrubs. At the corner, where the green strip ended, was a small elevator that descended to a storage space that ran under those little parks.

He descended to this storage place and got into his little cart. It ran with stored sun power. He ran it onto the elevator and ascended tothe street. He drove over to the fountain in the center of the intersection. Firstday was always one of his busiest. There were more fresh roses, and he had to search under them for the wilted ones. Fortunately, science had eliminated the thorns that formerly grew on the stems of the roses. Often, Bruin thought that the removal of the thorns was symbolic of what science was alwaysdoing for the world. There were few thorns left tolife. Nature had placed the thorns to protect the roses from animals. That had meaning, too. A rose did not belong to every animal. People used to have ways of protecting themselves so that they could keep others off. A man had a way of protecting the woman he wanted above all others from other men. Now Goldie felt that she belonged

to every man.He took one of the fresh, red roses in his

hand and held it. It represented some couple’s first night together. Some man had kissed it and placed it there. He had smiled in remembrance of the hours before. Perhaps even as he had turned from the fountain, he had found some pretty girl smiling at him. Perhaps then and there, he had made an engagement with her. That was all right, wasn’t it? Bruin was all mixed up. He supposed that he should feel ashamed of the thoughts he hadabout Goldie. Only animals were faithful to one mate, animals and the half-civilized human creatures who used to inhabit the earth. Probably the thoughts he had were insulting to Goldie. She was a normal, healthy girl, sweet and natural. He put the rose down tenderly. He must try and be worthy of her friendship.

Bruin passed out of Goldie’s thoughts as soonas she stepped into her place. It was a beautiful day. She was glad that traffic held up her plans so frequently. It was pleasant to look down upon the roofs. How neat the landing fields look set intheir gardens. The roofs were all found a hundred stories in height, except the center strip of buildings. These tall center buildings ran for sixblocks and were there broken by six blocks of the usual four hundred-story buildings. Where they ended, the buildings rose higher again. All of thefour hundred-story buildings had flat roofs. Theseroofs were gardens, except for the landing fields.From the air, New York was a great garden cut intosquares by the streets and having in the center the ornamental taller buildings with their turrets

and balconies. Every sixth street was an intersection, and that was why the center buildings were lower for crosstown plane traffic.

Goldie looked across at the United Building, tallest in the world. It was a plain, white marbleshaft, tapering to a point. A cloud was about it like a smoke ring. It was beautiful, but Goldie thought that the Capitol in Washington was even more impressive.30 The Capitol Building in Washington had a hundred turrets plated with solidgold. The main part of the building was bronze. Once every month, it was polished all over so thatit always shone in its magnificence. Its one faultwas that when the sun shone upon it, human eyes were blinded by it. At night when the floodlights played upon it, it was breathtaking in its beauty.

New York from the sky, though, was the most marvelous sight to be seen on earth. Goldie never ceased to be thrilled by it. She was sorry when her plane turned at one of the intersection sky streets and in another moment came to a stop on the roof of the History Building.

In a few minutes, Goldie was in her own little office and ready for her day’s work. She had planned to read a novel written in the period between the two great world wars. She hoped that she might glean from it some information about salesmanship that prevailed at the time. Sometimesshe felt that United had assigned her a professionthat was almost salacious. But the Government of United Lands believed in obtaining all the information, good and bad, that was obtainable. One of its tenets was that free speech and action

30 Earlier, Clarke had New York as the capital of United.

could only safely be based upon as complete as possible knowledge of all things.31

It seemed almost impossible that the hero of the novel she was reading could have been considered an admirable character. He was what wasknown as a defense lawyer. He defended people accused of crimes. He seemed to be clever but entirely unscrupulous. It did not seem to matter to him whether the person he was defending was guilty or not. Just so he could build up his own reputation and get paid while he was doing it. That was all that mattered. He used all kinds of tricks to win the jury. He would cry in his sleeve, try to get witnesses against his side of the case confused, bribe other witnesses to lie, and lie shamelessly himself. It was not so bad when he was defending some poor man who had done something wrong because he was hungry and desperate. But the hero even defended the corporations they had in those days that had cheated the government and robbed poor working menand women.

He was so successful in his lying and trickery that he won the admiration and love of a girl who married him. Then they proceeded to raisebabies, apparently with the idea of making liars out of them. Later, he became even more degenerate. He was made a district attorney. In

31 As a professor of history, I don’t find Clarke’s take on United’s openness to all “information, good and bad” particularly convincing. Goldie’s description of how the History Department assigned her task on salesmanship is not how historians form questions and seek to answer them. The overall feeling I have is that United is seeking through thestudy of history to reinforce its rule — just as dictators do.

this new position, he no longer defended evildoers. Now his task was to send them to prison. The author of the novel did not come rightout and say so, but it was apparent that some of the men and women he prosecuted he thought, in hisown heart, were innocent. He did his level best toget them locked up for years and years in the sameway as the guilty ones.

His wife was a funny sort of a creature, too.She wore clothes that would account her figure, and sometimes to attract a man’s attention, she would cross her legs to let a peek of her white limbs greet his eyes. At parties, she danced with men other than her husband, and they held her bodytight to them. She flirted, with them and they laughed with her over jokes that had a double meaning. And then, believe it or not, she would not sleep with them! Actually, she acted insulted if one of them hinted about it to her. She only slept with her own husband. According to what the author wrote, although Goldie could hardly believeit, the girl had never in all her life slept with any man but her husband. The husband was very proud of this fact for some reason and bragged about his having a virtuous wife.

The wife was always telling her husband how smart he was. Of course, in those days, the government killed people. There were some crimes that were punishable by death. Murder was one of them. If you murdered someone, the government turned right around and murdered you. Even in cases where it could not be absolutely sure you were guilty. When there was only circumstantial evidence, it took your life. And when he came home

and bragged to his wife that he had sent some man to his death in this way, instead of her turning from him in horror, she would kiss him and praise him. The most amazing thing of all was that he andhis wife did not think of themselves as the horrible creatures they really were. They felt that they were very nice, respectable people. Theywere religious, too, and the man was a deacon in the church while the wife taught what was known asa Sunday school class. Goldie wondered just what she taught them. Surely their Jesus was no liar, and he would not send an innocent man to his deathfor his own glory or a piece of money.

The other professions in those days seemed just as savage and corrupt. Everyone seemed to be afraid they would fail in their work and go hungry. One great trouble was that there was not enough work to go around. A man would try to edge into an already overcrowded profession. When a firm needed another clerk or stenographer, all it had to do was to put an advertisement in the paper, and a hundred desperate people would apply.One would be chosen, and all the rest would dash off to some other place that had advertised. Rivalstores selling the same kind of goods were established in the same block, sometimes right next door to each other. The salesman who worked in those stores exaggerated the value of what theysold, and the customers shopped around and hoped for the best. This connection with its salesmen, advertising, and slow movement of goods due to competition was costly. A watch might cost ten dollars to make and sell for five times that amount. Many things were sold on a commission

basis, and the salesman got fifty percent of what he charged the customer.

Yet, there were so many others selling the same thing that he made only a poor living. A concrete example of the waste of those days was the handling of milk. In one city, there might be a dozen retailers delivering milk at the differenthomes. Perhaps four or five different trucks wouldgo up and down the same block, one delivered to one house and one to another. Five trucks and fivemen doing one man’s work. Still, there was not enough work to go around, and it got so bad with so many people hungry that the government manufactured work, sometimes useless work.

Schools were established to teach men and women salesmanship. They pretended that salesmanship was a noble profession. They taught that Jesus was the world’s best salesman. They seemed to base their civilization on peddling. Everything possible was done to induce people to buy. They apparently even had a system of installment buying. If you did not have money enough to pay for a thing, you could give what youhad at the time and then sign a paper in which youpromised to pay so much every month until the thing was paid for. Sometimes the man who signed the paper lost his job and was not able to meet the monthly payments. Then men came to his apartment and took away the thing he had been paying on, even if there was only one payment left.

The whole business reminded Goldie of a picture she had once seen of a pack of wolves devouring a sheep. The sheep were not going to

last long, and the wolves knew it. The desperate anxiety to fill their bellies made every wolf an enemy, and they snapped at one another as much as at the sheep. It was money people were desperate about in those days. But in order to get money, they had to have work. There was not enough work to go around.

A young man finishing his education worried about whether he would be able to obtain the work for which he had prepared himself. When he managedto get work, he went through life worrying for fear he would lose it, and as he grew older, the fear became panic lest his work would be taken from him and be given to some younger man who would be eager to do it cheaper.

This lack of work led to numerous competing workers, the millions of useless salesmen who produced nothing and were the real cause of man’s suspicion, cruelty, and hypocrisy toward his fellow man. There was enough of everything but work, enough food, and goods. The solution to it all was just at hand, but not until the great World War had almost destroyed the race was it found. United had solved it by simply dividing thework by the number of workers and giving to each an equal share.32

It was found that all of the essentials of life could be produced with an hour or two of work

32 Clarke says little about how United came to be after the immense destruction of the Second World War. But supported by labor unions, many sorts of governments, facing the economic dislocations of the 1930s, often resorted to United’s solution of distributing available work to the entire labor force even when this meant an overall reductionof full-time work.

per day, per person.33 On the one hand, United didaway with salesmen, competitive places of business, and all the gigantic waste connected with such unintelligible methods of living. In time, the great waste of armaments, jails, police,and soldiers were eliminated. The world’s work could have been done in less than an hour’s work aday for each individual if it had not been that United did not believe that man should live by bread alone. He should have butter on his bread. Every man should enjoy what had formerly been the luxuries the rich alone possessed. The best of food, clothing, and shelter was to be for every man. He should be amused by the best of entertainment. These luxuries required many hours of additional work. Of the six hours that every man and woman labored, at least five of them represented the luxuries. United endeavored to bring the things of heaven down to earth. No longer did a worried, tortured race have to cling to a belief in a better world that only death could give. United had not done away with the privileges of the rich. Instead, it made every manrich.34

It amused Goldie that the author of the novelhad had his hero become mayor of his city. His wife was graduated from teaching a Sunday school

33 Beyond United’s sociological progress, Clarke’s utopia was technologically advanced. This technology, however, served only as a given, a platform on which to build a society with productive capacities sufficient to satisfy allmaterial wants, although United expected that no one would be greedy, taking more than his fair share.34 This statement reads like a paean to socialist, central planning, admittedly under a state more benevolent than was the Soviet Union.

class and became what was known as a club woman. She headed a society of women who agitated for thecensorship of books, magazines, and the stage and screen. They did not want any mention of sex. Theysaid that the young must be protected. A girl was supposed to go to bed for the first time with a man when she married him, of course, without any knowledge of the significance of why she liked to be kissed. Often this caused what should have beena beautiful experience to be a disgusting one. Butit was difficult to suppress the normal, healthy desires of males and females. As far as Goldie could figure it out, men and women gave about as much thought to sex in those days as they did in enlightened times. Only it was surreptitious thought. The very determination the lawyer’s wife displayed to her search for any reference to it and her zeal to eliminate it indicated a starved, neurotic condition. How she persecuted anyone who dared enjoy the forbidden pleasure and how she envied anyone she suspected might be getting what she was not getting, especially any woman! Goldie was sure that if the lawyer’s wife had just loosened up a little, she would have been a much happier person, and probably her husband would have found her a more interesting and pleasant sort.35

35 Clarke was drawing a picture consonant with the Marxist, socialist dream of total equality in all areas of life. At the heart of Clarke’s sociology lay sexual liberation. In one of Clarke’s more compelling published works, Wanda, thenovel’s namesake became a full-time professional prostitute.With expanding experience, Wanda believed she had found the future. “Possibly normal family life with its simple sex impulses might entirely disappear. A hundred years hence, ‘nice’ people might look upon sexual gratification as lightly as they accept promiscuous kissing today.”

Goldie sat before her Dictaphone and tried tothink how she could condense some of the lessons she had learned from the novel into a few words. But it was two o’clock, and she could not work anylonger. She felt keenly. She wanted to spit words of condemnation against the immoral beliefs of theold days and sing words of praise for the blessed wisdom of her beloved United. It was not ethical to work overtime, however.

Bruin had wanted her to meet him at two o’clock for lunch and then spend the afternoon andnight together. But she had begged off. His silly frame of mind over wanting her too exclusively must be discouraged. Besides, she had planned to attend school for two hours that afternoon. For some time, she had been going to school for a couple of hours, two or three afternoons a week. She felt that after she had spent the next six years in the drudgeries that she would like to be a cook for six years. Cookery was one of the learned professions. There were professions that you could enter without preparation, learning themas you worked at them. But the learned professionsrequired previous preparation.

Naturally, cooking was one of the learned

In “Doctor Time,” it took more than a hundred years torealize this future with the children of Clarke’s friends, such as the Suffragettes, Margret Sanger, and the fictional Wanda had won the day. Free love and sexual equality had triumphed — more than they dreamed and perhaps more than they wanted. Notwithstanding the contradiction personified in Goldie’s relationship with Bruin, in his utopia, loving and lovemaking were the foundational ethos of Clarke’s never-dying Immortals. Everything in Clarke’s fantasy, except the efficiency of group sex, bent toward everyone trying to love as many as possible. As a word, “promiscuity”had lost all meaning.

professions.36 She remembered the instructor telling her class, “It is easier to go wrong on the preparation of a pudding than in the drawings of the specifications of a building.”

It was probably true, for most buildings werea success, but Goldie had tested puddings at the school that did not seem to be. Cooking was a fineart. It offered an opportunity of very genuine service to the human race.

The cooking school was on Staten Island. Goldie wanted to take the plane but decide she hadbeen using them too often and decided on the moving walk instead. She went directly from her office to the school. She would eat lunch there. Its restaurant was interesting because it served in addition to the usual choice of foods, experimental cuisine, and every diner was supposedto try one new dish. Then the waiter placed a Dictaphone before each customer so that their impressions of it could be recorded. Sometimes these impressions would be enthusiastic enough forthe recipe to be released to the millions of eating places scattered all over the world. Goldiewondered if she would ever invent a dish fine enough to be given to the world. Like all Immortals, she was ambitious to contribute something to the comfort and happiness of the race.

The restaurant was surprisingly well-filled when Goldie entered. She found an empty seat across from a girl sitting alone at a table. Goldie smiled and pulled out her chair. “I hope 36 Clarke loved good food, and in his journals and letters while away from home, he often wrote about his meals in praise or not.

you are different,” she said.“Different to you,” the girl replied. “My

name is Moonbeam.”“Mine is Goldie. I go to classes here.”“Do you, Goldie dear? So, do I. In an hour,

Ralph Wager has a class in sauces.”“Ralph Wager?” Goldie consulted her little

book. “How strange, I made a note of that. I attended one of his classes on sauces and thought he was so good. I even put down his number so I would be sure and get back to him. He’s number 726A 2 Y.”

“I didn’t put down his number, but I am sure it is the same instructor. Is he black-haired, anddoes he rush right into his lecture like he loved it more than a woman?”

“The very man, I’ve heard that the sauce of life was ours but, in his case, it must be —”

“Moonbeam shrugged. “I could give him a date sometime and find out.”

“I would. You would be his type. He’s so dark. I just love that pale gold of your hair.”

“Thank you, Goldie. Got a date tonight?”“Yes.”“I supposed you had. I’m free for once, thank

goodness. I thought maybe we could do a movie together.”

“Sorry. To tell the truth, I wish I were free.”

“Hadn’t he different appeal?”“Yes, I suppose he has. It isn’t that. Bruin

is all right. We spent yesterday and last night together.”

“I guess you are like I am about this two-

night stuff. I’m normal enough to want a change.”“Well, I told him we would dope.”“That’s sensible. You are going to Ralph

Wager’s class with me, aren’t you?”“Yes, be glad to.”“What work do you do, Goldie?”“I’m in the History Building working on

salesmanship. You would be surprised how importantthat used to be.”

“History is kind of sad, I think. Salesmanship — I don’t see how that could have been very important. A person ought to know what they wanted without being told. I’m a chemist. AndI am right excited about it, too. I actually helped.”

“Helped what?”“You know what a nuisance chewing gum can be.

You have to save the wrapper it came in so that after you have chewed all the flavor out of it, you can wrap it up again before throwing it away.”

“So, it won’t stick on the sides of the wasteslots, you mean. And of course, you can’t throw iton the sidewalk or a floor.”

“Well, they have been working on a formula for over two hundred years, and at last, it has been perfected. It is to go on the market right away. United can now make a chewing gum that the saliva in the mouth begins to dissolve in five minutes, just when the flavor is gone. It melts away.”

“Without harmful effects?”“No, it’s good for you. It has lime to help

your bones and teeth.”“I don’t wonder you are proud to have had a

part in that.” Goldie reached for Moonbeam’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Congratulations. It isn’t easy to do a thing that really helps our United. To make life better, that’s a sacred accomplishment.”

Moonbeam thanked Goldie with her eyes and then modestly called her attention to the experimental specialty recommended among the desserts. She read slow the description. “Bittersweet Cherry Pie. This pie is made with theusual double-crust while the red cherries are lefttart and sour. While some of the sweetness escapedto the sour cherries, there is still remaining a contrast agreeable to the palate.”

“Say, that’s important, isn’t it?” Goldie explained, “It may really add something to the pleasure of eating. Now, why couldn’t I think of something like that? It is so hard to add anythingto human happiness these days.”

“Is it as important as dissolving chewing gum? Moonbeam asked a bit wistfully.

“Of course not, dear. Do you know I would like to give you my number and address? I would like to know you better.”

“I’ve been thinking the same way about you. Agirl ought to have a friend or two of her own sex at that.”

Chapter 5

Goldie and Moonbeam sat next to each other inRalph Wager’s class. There were about fifty students in the class, pretty evenly divided between men and women. That was usually the case in most classes. There were several reasons for it. In the first place, United’s births were regulated so that there was exactly one male baby born to every female. The new X-ray could disclosealmost at conception whether a male or female issue would occur. When an unwanted sex showed, itwas simple enough to dissolve the embryo. Such restrictions on birth were considered ethical because the well-being of the race was involved. It was considered as justified as the sterilization of all males, except those who were set aside as breeders.

They called his sterilization the new circumcision after the circumcision practiced during the unenlightened ages. With the Jews, it had had a religious significance. It was supposed to be done to relieve irritation, a sort of sanitation measure. The doctors of those days claimed it did not lessen the pleasure of sex indulgence. But Goldie had heard a lecturer who claimed that he felt certain it had been done partly at least to help a growing boy and young man curb his desire. Goldie did not doubt this at all. She knew too that barbarians frowned on sexual desire and the great joy derived from it. Acircumcised man was crippled sexually, and his pleasure in intercourse lessened.

Goldie often had pondered over this queer

distortion of life’s greatest enjoyment. That society should attempt to lessen a gift that contained so much happiness, inspiration, and zestfor living seemed to her to be just about the mostridiculous of all of the absurdities of the dim-witted, foolish creatures who lived before the Dawn of the Eternal Renaissance, as Goldie’s age was often called.

Man in those dark days seemed to be afraid ofhis own powers. It was, of course, primarily an age of fear. His gods, even its Jehovah, were largely gods to be feared. They were jealous gods.Man was always trying to placate them. He seemed to feel that the more he humbled himself and limited himself, the less danger he faced of the gods’ disapproval.

This was particularly true regarding his pleasures. There was a perpetual fear of the gods’jealousy. People were always doing things they didnot want to do and not doing things they did want to do. Sex, offering the greatest possibility for pleasure, incurred the greatest inhibitions. It was true that some of these inhibitions were due to the family unit upon which society was built. In back of this were property rights. Unenlightened man was very acquisitive, always trying to possess something to be his own and no one else’s. He was always crying, “This is mine.”

It was not only that he owned his own house and everything in it, but he owned his own family and his own wife as well. And he wanted to own hisown wife more than he owned anything else. He was less apt to loan her or give her to another than anything else that he possessed. Primarily, there

were two reasons for this. First, he paid more forher than anything else he owned. Secondly, his children were very expensive to him too, and he wanted to be sure they were his.37

The way it worked out, as Goldie figured it, was that a man naturally wanted to sleep with a woman. But the rule was that a woman was not supposed to permit it without marriage. Sometimes he was able to get the woman to break the rule, but often he was not. One day he meets a woman that he wants more than all the rest. He feels he just has to enjoy her body. But she, being broughtup in a civilization where everything is bought and knowing that she has a selling value, tells him he will have to buy her. If he wants her greatly enough to pay her price of marriage, he agrees. He promises to pay for her food, clothes, and housing for the rest of her life. So, before he pays such a great price, he wants to be sure that no one else got her for less. He would feel pretty badly if he thought that some other man at the cost of some little trinket or simply for the price of a good dinner someplace had gotten what was going to cost him more than all the other things he had bought during his lifetime combined.He well knew that marriage was buying on the installment plan with the payments lasting through

37 In Chapter II of the Communist Manifesto, Karl Marx did not want to abolish private property, per se, but “bourgeois” private property. In many ways, Clarke is echoing Marx’s argument, including the conception (see below) of marriage as an institution of bourgeois private property. See “Chapter II. Proletarians and Communists,” accessed May 16, 2019, https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1848/communist-manifesto/ch02.htm.

life.To be sure, sometimes, he got fooled. And

often, the woman could not get the price she wanted. She frequently compromised and agreed thatif the man would marry her that she would keep on working, at least for a while, and help pay the bills. She sometimes wanted the man, and sometimesthe man wanted her. Sometimes when she was older or one of the unfortunate women who were not pretty, she would pay even more than he would to get married. Every woman wanted to get married, and it was difficult for some. In those days, there were ugly, unattractive women. It was not like United with every woman well shaped, of the right weight, and attractive.

To be fair to the unenlightened age and the crude system of buying and selling love, there wasoften some unselfishness in it. Often a man and a woman lived for each other and sacrificed for eachother. More especially, they sacrificed for their children. There was often a beautiful family relationship. Immortals realized this and tried tocapture this idealism, to broaden it so that instead of being limited to the members of one family toward one another, to make of the whole world a family. Unselfishness and love should haveno limit of family or nation. It should be worldwide. United was the father of all, and each Immortal was a brother or sister in the same greatfamily.

Unenlightened men had taken the first steps in the advance of the race. He had gotten beyond himself to include in his interests his wife and his children. He had some feeling of kinship with

the people of his own land. But this kinship feeling was very limited. It did not prevent his feeling of complete ownership of the things he hadpaid money for, especially those things that he had paid a great deal of money for. So, he wanted to marry a virgin. He wanted to own her body exclusively and to be sure no one else had ever possessed it. Sometimes he was enamored enough to marry a widow, but there again, he wanted to be sure that she had been possessed by nobody but herformer husband, who had originally valued her enough to pay the high price of marriage.

Yet, a man wanted to marry a virgin. He wanted to be the first to enjoy her body, and he wanted to display her to his friends as his most choice property. As far as lending her to somebodyelse so that the friend and his wife could have anenjoyable experience — the very thought of it turned him into a rage. It sickened him. He was righteous, virtuous, and clean. Any man who would think of such a thing was an unnatural degenerate.The law upheld him in his conviction to the extentthat even if he should kill the man he found in such a relationship with his wife, he would be exonerated. Goldie thought she could understand it. The reason a man and woman belonged to each other exclusively was because their love was exclusive. In United, the race had taken a great leap forward. Love was universal. It was a sin notto love everybody. Hence, everybody belonged to everybody. Everybody was everybody’s enjoyment. Everybody was married to everybody else.

Now it was ethical, moral, and right for everybody to share with all the world. Selfishness

was the only sin. There was no such thing as personal property. But in the old days, personal property and its selfishness were camouflaged by religious sanction, and the virginity of a woman was glorified as something very credible.

Unfortunately, in the old days, when a man paid such a price for the woman he married, he still was unable fully to enjoy her. Here the fearof his gods damned him. Their jealousy kept him from the free, untrammeled enjoyment of the pleasures she could offer him. They both held backfrom each other, especially the members of the most tabooed of all the race — the great middle class. The very poor were more matter of fact in the intercourse marriage made possible. The rich were less fearful. Their money made them less fearful. But often, especially among the middle class, a man and woman felt some queer kind of shame about their physical enjoyment of each other. They waited until it was dark with the lights out to take each other. Often the woman hadbeen so badly brought up by her superstitious, fearing parents that she always felt ashamed of the sexual act, even with her husband. In extreme cases, she did not enjoy it. In other cases, whereshe did, she restrained herself from showing it. She did not want him to see her body. She discouraged his fondling of her. She thought of the whole act in much the same way as she thought of going to the bathroom. She was ashamed that sheenjoyed it, and she kept her lips tightly sealed for fear her husband, and probably too, her god, might hear a sigh from her lips. Her husband and she, in the dark with as much of themselves

covered as possible, indulged in an unclean act. After the act was consummated, many of them were afraid to use means to prevent conception. That conception could be the only excuse for it. Surely, their god would never forgive so great a pleasure without great payment.

Goldie was thankful that she and her fellow Immortals had risen above such sinister fear and shame. She was glad that she could look at any manand he at her, and both were unashamed. She could have any man she wanted. She could enjoy him without inhibitions. In this free, unrestricted, joyous participation, she was protected by the newcircumcision.

Immortals were shocked by the crime against achild of the old circumcision, which deliberately curtailed his pleasures. Now everything possible was done to encourage and increase it, including the teaching of exotic play to children. The new circumcision was a simple operation performed on the male, which made him incapable of reproduction. It killed none of his desire, but nowoman had to worry about unwanted consequences. Ofcourse, the males set aside for reproduction were exempted from this operation.

As important a thing as birth was not left tohaphazard chance. It was carefully supervised. That was the reason why the class that Goldie and Moonbeam attended was almost evenly divided between men and women. The class was informal as all classes were. Rules, other than those that dwelt in an individual’s heart as a part of his conscience, were abhorred in United. So, although the class was attentive, the posture of some of

its students might not have suggested it. One student had his feet on the desk of the girl in front of him, and she was using his feet as an armrest. The teacher, Ralph Wager, was sitting on the top of his desk and swinging his feet over theedge of it as he talked. He was talking very earnestly, however, describing a hot cream sauce to be poured over frozen mince pie.

Ralph Wager finished describing the sauce andswung his foot to the floor. He walked over towardthe electric stove and pulled it out from the wall. “Now,” he announced, “we’ll make the sauce.”

He pointed his finger. “You. No, you in the fifth seat.”

“He means you, Goldie,” Moonbeam said aloud.“Yes, you, Goldie. Come up here, dear, and

I’ll show you how to make it. Not get down from the shelf here the things I tell you. Listen, class, when Goldie reaches up for things on the shelf, please look at what she is getting and not at her legs. After all, we Immortals have to eat, too.”

Goldie and Moonbeam left the class together. “Look, Moonbeam,” Goldie took her arms, “it is an hour and a half yet before I meet Bruin for dinner. Want to come to my apartment and chat for a while?”

“I would love to. My time is my own. I’m celibate tonight as I told you.”

In a few minutes, the two girls were in Goldie’s apartment. They stretched out on the bed together and turned on the smoke switch. They instinctively nestled close to each other as they lazily inhaled the fragrant smoke. They relaxed in

contented silence.“I wish,” Goldie sighed, “I did not have

Bruin on for tonight.”“I wish you didn’t, too. I was just thinking

I haven’t enjoyed a girl’s companionship like thisfor months. It’s so much easier to date men than not to date them. Except on parties, when a group goes together someplace, boys and girls seem neverto have the company of their own sex.”

“Well, I suppose it is natural to pick a boy for your recreation hours. I’ve heard girls say that your own sex understands you best. But I don’t think there is much difference between the sexes.”

“There isn’t much, Goldie. We all live the same sort of life. We give six hours to United in the morning, have six hours to use as we want for ourselves in the afternoon, and there are the six love hours, and the six sleep hours. Of course, the sixes are all broken by less or more sleep, byeating and all that, except the straight six work hours. But what I mean is that there is no distinction in work between men and women, all jobs being open to both sexes. We all have our ownapartments. Civilization has made us all one sex.

“I suppose that is the reason why we girls never date each other to go anyplace. A boy is better for he is just the same as a girl, and thenif you want to end an evening with love, you can.”

Moonbeam smiled. “Of course, some girls make love to each other.”

“Oh, I’ve been to some of those lesbian clubs. But I don’t think there is much to it. Every girl I ever met in one of those clubs just

dropped in for a novel evening, the same as I did.”

“You’re right, of course. The boy’s clubs arethe same. I visited one of them just about a year ago. The boys were just acting crazy. When you talk with them, they try to date you up. Of course, science teaches that there are no hundred percent male or females, and some have considerable of the opposite sex in the old days due to sex repression, but with the freedom we have nowadays, you do the natural thing and want the opposite sex.”38

“I agree with you on that. But I don’t think it would be right to hold back. If a girl wanted me, I’d let her have me just as I know any sincereboy would if another boy wanted him. It is perfectly all right to enjoy one of your own sex, but my experience along that line has been that itis flat.

“Unseasoned love, Goldie, it lacks spice.”39

“Coming back to that chewing gum business of 38 Here Clarke is discussing a concept, ahead of its time, of gender being on a continuum. Witness, e.g., the controversies over the last generation and more in international women’s sports. What combinations of genetics and hormones make a woman a woman sufficiently woman enough to compete in gender-exclusive sports? But Clarke was talking about an even more and complex idea — gender fluidity.39 In his love novels of the 1930s, Clarke often wrote abouthomosexuality as a fact of life and without condemnation. For instance, see Wanda, Virgin’s Destiny, and Boarding House Blonde. With United’s unalienated population, homosexual experiences diminished, although they were often practiced in boys’ and girls’ clubs. On pp. 101-03 Goldie had and described one encounter with a female neighbor. While Clarke’s protagonists did not disparage homosexual sex and even experimented with it, they did not find their experiences as satisfying as were heterosexual “dates.”

yours, Moonbeam, I just happen to remember an incident that should interest you. Let’s see. It must have been fifty years ago. A boy and I, I can’t remember his name now, had spent Fifthnight together. We had had breakfast, and it was Sixthday, and I remember we had come to one of those awkward places. We both had foolishly told each other that we were undated. Yet, we both had had enough of each other. You know how it is. Neither one of us wanted to hurt the other’s feelings. Maybe neither one of us was sure the other did want to break away. At any rate, he suggested that we descend to the street and take alittle walk together. I hadn’t been on the street for months, so I agreed.”

“I don’t believe I’ve been on the street in weeks and weeks myself, Goldie, and the fountains are nice. But then they are so apt to be hot in the summer and cold in the winter. And they are solonesome. You hardly see anybody except the cleaners. I suppose, in the mornings, you would see the boys with roses. I had a sentimental loveronce, and he wanted me to come down to the street and watch him place his red rose at the fountain. He bent and kissed the rose and placed it on the fountain like it was an egg he was afraid of breaking. He acted like he was playing a part in one of those old romantic plays that are a take-off on the Unenlightened Age. I guess I snickered.He was hurt, and I had to pet him right on the street to make him happy again. It’s a pretty custom, and I believe in it, but I don’t think a boy should get too personal about you.”

“No, he shouldn’t. Well, my lover had offered

me a stick of lime gum. It happens to be my favorite flavor, and he and I were chewing away. He got tired of his, and absent-mindedly took it out of his mouth, and dropped it on the sidewalk.”

“For the love of United, Goldie, he certainlymust have been preoccupied.”

“That isn’t the worst of it. A boy who had been walking behind us stepped right into it and plastered it flat on the walk. Darn, the boy stopped, and, of course, we stopped. There it was,a mess of chewing gum on the spotless street.”

“What did your lover do?”“He went into the nearest building and had to

get some soap and water and then use his knife to scrape it off. And the other chap had gotten it onhis shoe. I sure did laugh at my lover for his carelessness. The other boy was laughing, and my lover got laughing, too. I wish I could remember his name. The way we were laughing together made me feel better acquainted with him. The other boy took me by one arm and my lover by the other, and we spent the day together after all.”

“What happened to the other boy?”“Oh, Him! He was nice. He took me to his

apartment that evening, and we spent the night together.”

“What a swell story about chewing gum. I’ll sure tell it in the laboratory tomorrow.”

“It does fit in. Smoked enough?”For her answer, Moonbeam turned off the smoke

switch. She yawned. “I must be going, Goldie. Giveme a ring soon, and we’ll go to a movie or something together.”

“Can’t you stay, Moonbeam, and eat dinner

with Bruin and me?”Moonbeam glanced at Goldie’s clock. “It’s

half-past seven. You probably were going to dress for him. You’re taller, so your dresses won’t fit me, and I wouldn’t be dolled up.”

“I won’t dress then.”“But he’ll be all spruced up in his velvet

tails.”“What does it matter? He’s your type, dear,

dark as his name suggests. You might want to date him.”

“All right, but why don’t you dress for him? I’ll slip away right after dinner.”

“No, it gives me an excuse not to. Want to take a shower with me?”

“Yes, and your step-ins won’t be too, too large.” Moonbeam got up and pulled the zipper to her dress. She tore off her paper step-ins and threw them in the waste slot.

“Throw your stocking in the laundry slot, Moonbeam. Mine can’t be more than a size larger.”

“Eight, darling. Shall I use the shower firstin that I am ready? What’s your scent?”

“Sea.”“Good. I’ll use it so our fragrance will be

the same.”Goldie undressed. She waited by the shower

until Moonbeam came out dry and fragrant. The two girls stared at each other with frank curiosity. “You’re deliciously dainty, Moonbeam.”

“Thanks, Goldie. Frankly, I pose as the ethereal type, but if I’m the moon, you’re the sun. There is a rich warmth to you any girl would love to have. How can I express it — trimly

voluptuous? That sort of fits. I mean, you’re still — well, if a fairy were voluptuous, you’d beit.”

“Darling, you make me feel very attractive. If I am able to add to man’s happiness, I’m glad.”Goldie gave Moonbeam a little hug and stepped under the shower.

While Goldie was under the shower, the telephone called, “Please answer me. Please answerme.”

“Answer it, Moonbeam, will you? It’s probablyBruin.”

“I’m just in my step-ins.”“Well, I’m sure he won’t object to seeing you

that way. Tell him I’m all wet and that you are eating dinner with us.”

Goldie turned off the water and adjusted the drier. She stole a glance at Moonbeam over at the vision-telephone. She smiled. Evidently, Bruin wasbeing impressed with her loveliness. She felt relieved. If Bruin could so quickly become interested in another girl’s white shoulders, perhaps he was not so silly sentimental toward her. “I hope they make a date,” she thought.

Chapter 6

Goldie came out from the shower as Moonbeam turned off the vision telephone. Moonbeam, sittingon the bed, gazed at Goldie pensively. “I am afraid I’ll seem kind of pale to Bruin after you, dear.”

“He dated you?” Goldie asked.“No, but he will. He’ll surely want me, won’t

he?”“You seem to have fallen for him.”“He is just the type I adore. Is he very

tempestuous, Goldie?”“Yes, that is, at first. Later, I am afraid

that he is — well, a bit personal.”“I would not have imagined that of him at

all.”“I’m sorry, Moonbeam. You know that I don’t

want to be unkind in my remarks about him. However, I have to be honest with you. It is nothing, really. Only perhaps there is a slight — To be frank, he doesn’t keep things as strictly onthe level of the physical as good taste dictates.”

“I see,” Moonbeam said thoughtfully as she got to her feet and moved over toward the mirror. She ran her fingers through her pale gold hair. “You wearing the same dress, Goldie?”

For an answer, Goldie reached for it, and stepping into it, pulled the zipper that reached from the hem of her skirt to the top of the dress.

They met Bruin on their roof, where he was waiting for them.

“Feeling different, Bruin?” Goldie greeted him. “Kiss Moonbeam here.”

“You’re lovely, Moonbeam,” Bruin said as he took her into his arms, kissed her, and playfully patted her backside. “Where shall we eat?”

“Any roof will do,” Moonbeam answered. “I must slip away right after.”

“No,” Goldie protested, “let’s go where we can dance. She’s celibate tonight, Bruin, and we don’t want to start doping too early.”

“Right,” Bruin agreed. “Let’s walk up to the corner and take the crosstown plane.”

The restaurant had a smorgasbord. They chose various tidbits from the many delicacies adorning the long center table. All three filled their plates generously. “I never get any further than the appetizers,” Goldie complained.

“I wonder if anybody overeats the regular dinner,” Moonbeam asked. “I always imagine my stomach is asking, ‘what next?’ as a little sardine comes down and then a deviled egg, a sliver of tongue, a gobble of cheese, and a swallow of goose liver.”

“Good food is like good love,” Goldie remarked. “Variety makes it interesting.”

“Still,” Bruin answered, “I like to concentrate on a good beefsteak once in a while. Oh, they are playing, ‘Six Hours to Love.’ Dance it with me, Goldie.”

She nodded, and they moved over the dance space.

Later, Bruin led Moonbeam over to the dancing. Their table was fairly near the dance space, and Goldie watched the two. She hoped that they would make a date. She was sure that Moonbeamwanted to, but she was not quite so certain about

Bruin. What he had said about concentrating on beefsteak she felt was indicative of his feelings toward her. She was afraid that he still wanted toconcentrate upon her more than he should.

They remained a couple of hours at the restaurant. Bruin danced twice more with her and twice more with Moonbeam. Goldie wished that she knew whether a date had been made. She became moreconvinced that Moonbeam definitely wanted Bruin’s kisses. The girl was trying real hard not to show it for fear he did not have the inclination.

They finally topped off their dinner with icebox charlotte russe.40 Moonbeam somewhat reluctantly placed her spoon down on her empty plate. “And now I must leave you. I’ll phone you, Goldie, and it was nice meeting you, Bruin.”

Goldie looked at Bruin expectantly. He said, “Must you go? Can’t we see you to your plane?”

Moonbeam stood up. “No, thanks.”Goldie was sure she was disappointed. “Wait,

sit down again, Moonbeam,” she said. “Bruin, why not the three of us dope together?”

“Why, if Moonbeam would like to. Yes, do, dear.”

Moonbeam hesitated for a half-moment. “N-o. Another time perhaps.”

Goldie was exasperated at Bruin. Why couldn’the act more urgent? Surely, he could see that Moonbeam was willing to be persuaded.40 Charlotte russe is a cold dessert of Bavarian cream set in a mold lined with ladyfingers or a Swiss roll. More likely, Clarke was referring to the New York City version, both a dessert or an on-the-go treat popular from the 1930s to the 1950s. Sold in candy stores and luncheonettes, it consisted of a paper cup filled with yellow cake and whippedcream topped with half a maraschino cherry.

Bruin was standing beside his chair. Moonbeamstepped closer to him to permit a couple to pass on their way to the dance floor. “You use Goldie’sscent, don’t you? How about a date, dear?”

“Now, you need not be polite.” Moonbeam smiled.

“But I really am anxious. Please.”“Very well.” Moonbeam reached into a white

parchment belt she wore and extracted her engagement book. “Are you free a week from Thirdnight? I could sleep with you then.”

“Fine,” Bruin said. “Shall we meet here at eight for dinner?”

Moonbeam snapped her garter, gave Bruin a quick little parting kiss, and with a wave of her hand toward Goldie, moved away.

Goldie watched her stop to thank their waiter, and then she was lost to view beyond the dancing section. “I like her very much, Bruin,” she said.

“Dancing with her is like holding a cloud in your arms,” Bruin answered.

Goldie was not sure if he meant it as a compliment or if he preferred a more vivid type. But she was content with the thought that Moonbeamwas to have her date anyway.

Goldie and Bruin went to her apartment. Almost immediately, they took each other. Afterward, Bruin suggested that they talk a while before taking their opium tablets and turning on the drugged smoke.

Goldie agreed. Bruin hinted at some of his thoughts that morning when he was working among the roses. Goldie tried to steer the conversation

toward Moonbeam. “You know,” she said, “Moonbeam bathed here, and she is surprisingly beautiful. Like a bit of white coral. You should be glad you dated her.”

“I am sure she is alluring. I know what she will like. I must be Bruin, the bear. Goldie, I have been thinking about us going to Sahara. Why not us both take three- or four-days action and dothe place thoroughly?”

“All right, sometime this winter.”“This winter? I mean now, sometime soon.”“But winter is the better time to go. All the

guidebooks say that. It’s pretty late, dear, and if we are going to dope — our six hours of work tomorrow is ahead of us, you know.”

“Yes. Shall I set the smoke to go off automatically in an hour?”

“I didn’t mean to shut you off, Bruin.”“You did, but I could hardly hope that my

talk could compete with the magic murmur of the smoke dreams. Mind if I held you while we are going under? Doing so may decide what I dream.”

“All right, darling. Here’s your tablet. Better turn on the smoke before you swallow it.”

Bruin did as she suggested. He pulled her toward him.

“In a moment, we’ll be in a new world,” Goldie murmured. “I want to be chased by a thousand devils and be caught by all of them. They’ll be big baboons, greedy and rude.”

“I want to be on an island of a thousand girls, all of them Goldies, all of them you. I want to be a giant and seize a thousand of you in my arms.”

“You’re dreadful, Bruin. Did you set the smoke switch to go off in an hour? Good. I didn’t think I want to be chased and caught by a thousandrude baboons. I want to be a cloud sliding down a rainbow. I want — The rainbow is so soft and warm.I — I want —”

Goldie awoke slowly. She felt as she always did when awakening from dope. Her mind was in a fog, and she could not collect her thoughts. Her body had no sensation unless the feeling that the several parts of it were floating through space could be considered a sensation. Her legs and armswere detached from her body. She tried to bring one of her arms back so that she could press it against her body. With great effort, she did so, but she could not feel its pressure against her body. Her body was nothing, her arms nothing. Gradually her mind cleared. She could remember theevening before. More slowly, her body came to life. She felt uncomfortable. It was Bruin’s weight upon her. She slid away from him and lay byherself. He would soon come out of it, too.

She reached under her pillow. She felt in herlittle gold box for a rough tablet. The dope tablets were smooth. The rough tablets were to bring her back to normalcy. She wished it were Fifthnight with Sixthday ahead of her so that she need not take the tablet. But with work to do the next day, it was better that she take it before falling asleep. She swallowed the tablet. If she was asleep when Bruin awakened, he would not disturb her. She put the gold box on his pillow where he could find it. She closed her eyes.

She did not immediately fall asleep. She lay,

wishing she could remember her drugged dreams. Generally, she could and partly live them over again in remembering. Now she could only vaguely remember the delicious rapture that had come over her as she had fallen under the power of the drug.But her lassitude, the exhausted contentment she now felt made her realize that she had been in thehour or two of her drugged state a heavenly happy woman.

Goldie was in that pleasant drowsy state, just slipping comfortably into unconsciousness, that temporarily death that sleep brings when Bruin awoke. She tried to hurry into her sleep so that she would be unconscious when he became fullyawake. She almost succeeded when he spoke.

“Goldie, are you awake?”“Yes,” she answered, wishing that it were not

a sin to lie.“I had the most wonderful dreams, marvelous.”Goldie was silent.“You’re sleepy?”“I put the pillbox beside you. Here. I’ll get

it. Here is a rough pill.”I don’t want one. My work does not require

much concentration, and I don’t need it. You know,the dreams I had. You were mixed up in them. Want to hear about them?”

Goldie really did not want to hear about them, but it was apparent that he wanted to tell about them, so she replied, “Well, if I’m mixed upin them, I should feel complimented.”

“I was in a strange land. You were there withme. We were lying on a great beach. Its sand was purple, and the sea before it was red. All about

us were others, divided into couples. Everybody seemed to be mated off into couples, and no couplepaid any attention to any other couple. No couple seemed to care anything about any other couple.”

“Not very nice, I should say. I don’t think that would make me happy.”

“But you must have been happy. Each couple was busy making love. They were all making love endlessly. Each had a mate, one permanent mate. Inmy dream, I had been making love to you continuously for a thousand years. So had all the others been making love. There were thousands of couples, all making love. That was their life. They neither slept, nor ate, nor even talked. Their kisses never grew stale, their passion nevercooled, and their rapture never ended.”

“Sort of started something they couldn’t finish if I get the idea.”

“Seriously, it seems to me, one could consider that the ultimate in living. To cast off all lesser things for the enjoyment of the supremerapture, endlessly.”

“We are not just physical creatures, Bruin, and I’m glad we aren’t. I enjoyed my dope tonight.Perhaps, although I cannot remember what happened.I was happier when under the drug than I have beensince I last was under the drug. Yet, I would not dream through all eternity. Even if I did not owe a duty to society, I wouldn’t want to. I am glad Ihave a mind as well as a body. I think variety is what makes life worth living.”

“I suppose you don’t like the idea that each couple concentrated on their own mates!”

“Bruin, my favorite food is lobster. But one

big, broiled lobster is enough.”“But suppose when you finished that first

broiled lobster, you were just as hungry for another. That it was as if you had not eaten it atall. You can’t deny that then you would get as much pleasure out of eating the second, and the third, and —”

“Yes, and the fifty millionth lobster. Nevertheless, I would not want to spend all my life eating lobster. And I would not want to spendall my life just making love, especially with the same man.”

“I still think it was a great dream.”“The trouble is, Bruin, that you and I know

that there is a wish-fulfillment in dreams. This one mate stuff of yours. It worries me, dear.”

“I can’t help thinking you’re so much better than all the others.”

“But, Bruin, aren’t you looking forward at all to your date with Moonbeam?”

“She’s just another date. If you would give me one date a week.”

“You know that would not be proper. You don’twant people going around thinking that Goldie Furman has a particular boyfriend. That would reflect on you, too. So, it would not be kindness toward you, and I must refuse.”

“I know you must think I am wicked. But it was considered right in the past to want only one woman, and it may be considered right again in thefuture.”

You know that was before the dawn of civilization. These people were savages. Their ethics were monetary, and they themselves were

only a race of lying salesmen. Not that I would judge them too harshly. Good ethics are only possible for those who had plenty. The ethics of those who have too little are always poor. Moral standards always have a practical consideration back of them. For instance, the reason why it is ethical for Immortals to have many lovers is because all Immortals are young. Youth is polygamous, and age is monogamous. That — Oh, heck, forgive the lecture.

“No, go on. You sound like the Fifteen MinuteEducation Series on the television. I always mean to listen in on that, and I never do. But you’re just as good. Go on.”

“The lecture is over, and the teacher is going to sleep. Good night.”

“Goldie, I’m all. But you’re not in the mood.”

Goldie yawned. Bruin bent closer in pleased security. “I love it when you yawn,” he said.

“It is another compliment to show another. One never would yawn before an enemy. I have always thought it so funny that in the old days, people used to think it was rude to yawn and wouldput their hand before their face to hide it.”

“As if anything could be prettier than the red cave of your mouth with its red tongue, so soft and moist, resting behind its white fence. I am going to sleep.”

“No, Bruin, you want me. What kind of a girl would I be not to respond to you? What do you wantto do? Make me ashamed?”

[When Goldie awoke the following day, she

dressed and took the plane to her work. But41] instead of going to her private office, she entered the common room of her division of workers. As in most divisions of workers, there were sixty men and women associated with Goldie. They all were arriving at about the same time. At eight o’clock, all sixty were present, and PassionFlower Smith, their leader, stepped up on the platform at the front of the room.

While Passion Flower stood waiting for the group to get settled, Goldie studied her. She was a distinct brunette and did not use bleaching cream to keep her skin white. Her tanned face and arms, together with her black hair and eyes, gave her almost an Indian appearance. She was, of course, the type generally called “A Brown Skin.” Goldie thought the girl succeeded in looking quite“different,” although many of the brunettes let their bodies and tan and achieve the same general effect. But Passion Flower somehow was able to make herself appear exceptionally dark. The dress she was wearing was of the same attractive business design as Goldie herself was wearing, except that it was black while Goldie’s was blue. She wore a rose in her hair. That meant that she had a date for that night. Sometimes, Goldie observed the custom when she thought to stop and get a flower from a stand. It was a sort of tribute to one’s date and pleased a man. Goldie thought that she would like to chat with Passion Flower. The girl interested her.

“Fellow workers,” Passion Flower began

41 A line has been dropped from the manuscript’s text. I have added a possible transition to the next paragraph.

conversationally, “I have an announcement to make,two in fact. First, next month, we are to have a week of general conferences for all history workers in our Grand Division. We ought to discusstoday what contribution we sixty can make to the larger conference. I think we should select one ofour members to work for the next month on all our findings and try to condense them into some sort of conclusions.”

“You’re the person to do that, Passion Flower,” a boy in the front row announced.

“No, I think you would be much better to do it, Frank. That is, of course, if the group agrees. Frank has had five years of work in history, and, as some of you may remember, he has specialized in the influence of monetary rewards on the individual’s achievements in the Unenlightened Age. What our division is supposed to do is to get findings on any possible incentiveto human effort in the old days that is lacking inour present society. Really, I think Frank would create a splendid summary of our activities for us.”

“Wait,” Frank got to his feet. “I don’t thinkPassion Flower is being quite frank.” He glanced back at her. “Let your conscience search your motive, dear. I think she, deep down in her heart,knows that she is the one to do it. She and I havehad a number of dates together, on and off, and weboth love to talk shop. She is terribly interestedin her work. She knows more about our savage ancestors than anybody I’ve talked to, and,” she smiled, “I don’t believe I’m prejudiced in her favor because of the memory of some happy nights.

I would like to suggest we let her do it unless someone has another boy or girl in mind.” He sat down.

“I move Passion Flower do it,” Goldie spoke up from her seat.

“Yes,” the whole group murmured.“Thank you, friends. I am so crazy about

history I’ve been considering requesting I be assigned to it another six years. I just can’t make up my mind whether that would be selfish or to the best interests of United. And that brings up the second announcement. I have only two monthsmore to my six years. You should elect another leader.”

“How about Frank?” A man sitting next to Goldie got to his feet. She looked at him with interest. She had not noticed him before, and he was now [in front of her].

“I really shouldn’t make any suggestions,” the man continued. “I got up as much as anything to introduce myself. I just started my six years this morning. I finished last Fifthday six years of hard labor running an electric saw as a woodsman. My name is Bluebeard Clark.”

Passion Flower nodded. Welcome, Bluebeard, toour division and New York. We all get back to the big town once in a while, don’t we? Does the groupwant Frank or —”

“Sure,” some girl said on the front row.Passion waited to see if there were any other

suggestions. “Well then, Frank, you are the leaderafter my two months are up. “Fawn,” Passion Floweraddressed one of the girls toward the rear of the class, “come up here, will you, and read that

digest of what was discussed at our last meeting.”A willowy blonde girl came forward, gave

Passion Flower’s arm a friendly squeeze, and seated herself on the top of the platform desk. She made a grimace at a boy in the front row and pulled downward on her skirt. “As your secretary,”she began, “I condense what seemed the more important from the records of the meeting.”

Goldie concentrated as Fawn read her report. Her chain of thought was interrupted by a hand on her knee. It was her new neighbor, sitting next toher.

“Pardon,” he whispered, “for stealing United’s time, but I wanted to be sure to ask you in case we became separated when the conference breaks up. I’m bidding for a date.”

Goldie wrinkled her nose at him. “Naughty, cheating United.” She ignored him by turning her eyes back to Fawn.

“You’re an introvert and a prude,” he softly hissed.

She gave him a sidewise glance. He seemed to be concentrating on Fawn’s report. Goldie paid no more attention to him, but when the conference came to an end and they both stood up, she put herarm in his. “Taking me to lunch?” she asked.

“It is certainly nice to be back in New York again,” he answered.

Chapter 7

Goldie and Bluebeard went to The Barn, a popular restaurant, and had a harvest hand theme. The restaurant specialized in long tables seating sixty diners. There was no printed bill of fare, and the food was served by girls in overalls who sat big platters of chicken and waffles on the tables. There was a studied informality, and the guests would sing out to one another, “Pass the chicken, farmer. Shove over the gravy. There, you,where are your manners? Don’t you see, I need somemore maple syrup?”

“I shouldn’t have thought you would have chosen this place after living in the wilderness,”Goldie said. “By the way, where did you live?”

“In Siberia,” Bluebeard answered. “I used to come back to New York quite often to see some of my old girls, but there is everything you want in Siberia except this. I don’t know of a joint just like this in all Siberia.”

“I’ve only been in Siberia a couple of times.The woods are most too orderly for me, with every tree dated. You do have nice sleigh parties, though. I just love to bury myself in the straw atthe bottom of those big sleighs.”

“Yes, with everybody huddled together for warmth, and when you try to sing, your teeth stingwith the cold. Did you notice how little the starsseemed and, so far away, and how beneath their frosted underwear, the tree limbs creaked?”

“And the necklaces of bells the horses wore, and you wondered how long you would last if you were left alone in the snow. I remember. But you

did like Siberia, didn’t you?”“I wouldn’t choose it as a life. Still, we

were comfortable enough. The same current that ranour saws heated the lining of our clothes. I wouldturn the current on while watching the saw and then turn it off when I moved it to the next tree.”

“Afternoons and nights would be about the same as in New York.”

“Oh, sure. Usually, Sixthday I spent on the Black Sea. There is a subway that runs toward the sun and to the palms. I like the resort on the Black Sea even better than on the Caspian. But I’mglad I’m back in New York and especially that I amin history. Often afternoons, I used to study old Russian history.”

“Did you? I take it you’re the intellectual type, Bluebeard.”

“Some of my friends have told me that I should have named myself Socrates instead of Bluebeard.”

“And why did you name yourself Bluebeard?”“You remember Bluebeard’s Horror Cave in

Bermuda.42 I used to love that place when I was a child. I used to sneak off from exotic play to runin there to see the spook and Jack-in-the-box jumpat me. I seemed to like the horrors better than mypretty playmates’ kisses. The teachers were real interested in the quirk of mine from a psychological standpoint. But I passed all their tests. I seemed to be normal. But that big forbidden room in the cave suggested the name for

42 Bluebeard was the evil character in a French folktale. Hewas a violent nobleman who murdered his multiple wives.

myself. I suppose, too, I thought it would intrigue the girls.”

“It does suggest something or other.” Goldie smiled. She became aware that those near her at the table had ceased talking among themselves and were listening to Bluebeard’s and her conversation. “What does it suggest to you?” she questioned a girl sitting across the table from her.

“Being seized by a wicked male, struggling against him helplessly and being forced to something that would be very disappointing not to be forced to do.”

“I always slit the throats of my girls,” Bluebeard announced amiably. I slit their throats and throw their carcasses into the waste slot. That makes it unnecessary for me to wait to use the shower in the morning.” He felt Goldie’s throat and nodded in satisfaction.

“My last luncheon,” Goldie murmured sadly. “If you’ve finished eating, shall we go, my littlethroat slitter?”

For his answer, Bluebeard shoved back his chair. They made their way toward the exit. “Do you know what I would like to do this afternoon, Goldie, if you are free?”

“What?”“Would it bore you terribly much for us to go

someplace where we could talk about the work in history?”

“No, I would like to. Shall we go to my apartment or yours?”

“It does not matter if you are sure you won’tbe bored talking shop?”

They went to Goldie’s apartment. When they entered, Goldie remarked, “I suppose it would havebeen better to have gone to a roof or maybe for a sail in one of the boats.”

“This is more economical for United,” he answered. “We would have had to get a stateroom ona boat if we wanted to talk alone. The trouble in United is that there are no private conversations unless you do have a room by yourself. Everybody is as free with your life. You’re common property.Your talk is your neighbors’ newspapers. That is as it should be, of course. You would not want to snub anybody.”43

“Have you been assigned your particular research?” Goldie asked.

“Yes, I have. I think I am going to like it, although it is thoroughly exhausted. Perhaps in six years, I can find some little angle to it thatmay be helpful to United’s knowledge. It’s race preference.”

“Oh, I think that would be interesting even if very hard to discover anything new about it.”

“You know, regardless of the decision United made only to produce the Nordic type, I’ve often wondered that if we had continued the different races if Immortals would not have been more interesting. Suppose we still had brown people andnegroes, and we weren’t all white?”

“Everyone wonders about that at times. But those races themselves voted to make the future race one, that it should be predominately white. 43 Here is the clearest example in the manuscript of criticism of United even if softened with, “That as it should be, of course.” Bluebeard’s complaint is one that most of Clarke’s readers would make.

It is a composite race, of course. I know that my blood is a mixture of all, the physical strength of the black man, the mental alertness of the Jew,who was made shrewd by persecution, the sagacity of the Chinese, the passion of the Latin, the clean orderliness of the Scandinavian, and the bravery of the English, who saved civilization.”

“Yes, they did save it from the Germans untilAmerica was awakened, and that took considerable time with the sort of people they had in Congress.What about your German blood? There is even a dropor two of that in us, Goldie. Are you sorry to have it?”44

“No, although maybe glad there is so little, that so few Germans escaped being eaten by their fellows. But the Germans had their music, even their patient mechanical ability.”

“That’s what worries me about my new job. 44 For Marx, class differences transcended racial divides. United suffered neither. This discussion embodies an interesting assumption that in utopia, race was homogenized and that its dominant strain was white — specifically Nordic. It is worthwhile to point out that Hellen Mattson Clarke, Rev. Clarke’s wife, was of Swedish extraction. Worse, each race had characteristics that represented some of the crudest stereotypes of Clarke’s time. Even so, his novels of the 1930s had been relatively enlightened on racial issues. And even these passages in “Dr. Time” can be interpreted in an “enlightened” way, i.e., the race of the Immortals as a mixture of all rather than the defeat of non-whites. Based on his fictional writing stretching from the 1920s to at least 1960, I believe that living in Richmond, VA from 1927, with time, had gradually coarsened his earlier, comparatively liberal attitudes.

In his copious writings before the Second World War, Clarke had said little about the Germans but had excoriated Congress and almost everyone else for their weak reaction against Japan’s invasion of China. He, after all, had created China’s Children Fund to help the children sufferingfrom Japanese aggression. See Clarke III, Fifty Years, 168-90.

It’s all so settled. What new thing can be thoughtor said on such a subject? Even the argument that in our love life there would be more variety, thatwe could have black and brown lovers is overcome by the diversified types we have created. The girls who don’t use bleaching cream and who, with their dark eyes and hair and their bodies mahoganyfrom sun and sunlamps. The fragile lily girls, thedeep golden ones like yourself, the green-eyed girls, the blue-haired angels — United be blessed for the variety of them!”

“And all of them beautiful, Bluebeard, with perfect features and bodies like poems. And you men aren’t so bad either.”

“Even at that, some girls are more beautiful than others. Their bodies may all be the same, buttheir hair and eyes are different, and sometimes it is some intangible thing that makes a girl for me seem more desirable. We Immortals are beauty worshippers. Take this room, it is only twenty-by-twenty, not counting shower and closets, but our architects have made it seem as though we were in some spacious place. The walls with their mirrors cease to be walls, and looking at them, I see afaroff. Our ceiling is the sky. Even your sand rug does not suggest the steel, rubber, and glass of your floor by the shore of the sea. You step on it, and it gives even as the sand would give. Beauty, Goldie, the beauty of our United, the beauty of the love we Immortals have for each other, the beauty of the things we have made, our buildings and streets, the beauty of you — it’s good, it’s rich good!”

“Beauty does seem to be the thing that

existence exists for, the reason back of why things are.”

“What the barbarians used to call god, the one who gave it a slap and started it going. They couldn’t understand it, and they were afraid of it. Their gods, sometimes a stone, sometimes a tree, and sometimes an image made out of stone or tree. And sometimes even a man or a woman.”45

“The way those unenlightened used to figure it out, Bluebeard. They used to say that the universe was too wonderful to have created itself,so there must be a creator.”

Bluebeard laughed. “They were such storm children, groping about in the wind and hurling rain, catching in the darkness the second’s light of the lightning’s flash. They never seemed to realize that in trying to answer one riddle, they only were faced with a still greater one. A creator must be greater than his creation, and who, by United, created him? Why there ever was anything I don’t know, but because there was, it had to live and grow and change and die.”46

“Space and the things in it, time that changes those things, and Immortals who think it is all a setting for them. We are like gorgeous birds who sit in the sunshine of noonday, preeningour feathers, admiring their hues, so sure the universe is just a backdrop to show us off. I

45 While always religious, for a minister, or, perhaps, as aminister, Rev. Clarke had many questions that he frequently expressed in his writing, most clearly in his manuscript, “Ex-Minister: Autobiographical Novel by Rev. J. Calvitt Clarke,” accessed May 18, 2019, https://www.academia.edu/9466317.46 For a similar train of thought, see Clarke, “Fifty Years of Begging,” 42.

wonder what comes after sunset for us Immortals.“We lift our wings, Goldie, and then, flying

high in long swoops, we sail westward to another noonday. We’ll keep our feathers dry and not be left drenched and sodden in the mud beneath some slack storm-driven sky.”

“We’ll follow light and beauty then.”“Sure, all life follows it. The flower turns

its head to the sun that it may grow more beautiful. And animals have it. The way an animal never lifts its head for a rainbow, but I wonder. Why have birds’ gorgeous feathers and some pretty markings on their coats? I am sure your caveman did not drag some old hag off to his cave.”

“Is beauty a real thing in itself, or is it just that our eyes think the accustomed sights arebeautiful?”

“You’ve forgotten the experiment they made with monkeys. Remember about it? How they kept a troop of monkeys for years in a plot of ground they had made just as ugly as they could? Then a plot of ground next to it they made beautiful, andafter those monkeys had been born and lived for years in the ugly plot, they opened the beautiful plot next to them and let the monkeys go from one to the other as they chose. They were careful not to have more food in the one plot than in the other. The monkeys soon began spending most of their time in the beautiful plot.”47

47 Jeanne Wood’s comment: “Also on page 68 I have marked theparagraph about the monkeys (note that monkeys is not spelled monkies) moving into the beautiful plot because it was beautiful. The reason I marked it is because I don’t know if they are actually capable of appreciating beauty. I rather doubt it. I understand that you are trying to prove that beauty appeals to them by using a scientific set-up

“I guess ultimate truth is beauty.”“I think it is all the same, no matter what

we call it, beauty, truth, god, knowledge — what does it matter? The animals got sick and died because they have so little of it. The unenlightened had their wars and evils because they had so little more.”

“It seems, Bluebeard, that we have gotten a long way off from history, at least our division in history.”

“Conversation is a new road that leads to hills one never mounted before.” Bluebeard stood up, stretched, and gave Goldie a quizzical look. She suspected what was on his mind, but her expression told him nothing. He dropped to his knees in front of her. “I seek beauty,” he said pleadingly.

“It is only Firstday, Bluebeard, and the afternoon of Firstday, too.”

“You had a lover Fifthnight?”“Right. And Sixthnight as well.”He started to get to his feet.“Wait,” Goldie put her hand on his shoulder.

“Stay where you are. My passion is fast asleep. Wake it gently, darling.”

when in conditions of both plots are controlled so that theyare exactly alike in comfort and convenience, etc., and thatthe only difference is that one plot is beautiful, and the other is ugly. However, if you do know of a scientific instance of this sort then it ought to be O.K. If you want, you could say that it is possible some creatures other than man appreciate beauty — otherwise, why does the beautiful plumage of the male bird exist — or something of that sort. Clearly, Wood had forgotten the development of new species at the Cape May Zoo (see p. 24). These included highly developed monkeys. As for spelling, Clarke was always a terrible speller.

“You are sure it is not too sleepy?”She ran the fingers of her two hands through

his crisp black hair. “I like the stiff bristles of your pompadour, woodsman.” She bent lower. “Your hands are hard from your work in the woods.”She stretched her hands beside his. “Mine are so small and soft. Beauty again, this difference between a boy and a girl. We girls do hard labor, too. Yet, we remain different. Why? Don’t answer me. I know. I think I am yawning and awakening.” She smiled contentedly and moved one of her hands upward beneath her grass skirt. Gently she snappedher garter.

He reached for her hand, held it, separated her fingers, and drew them to his lips. “I’ll woo you slowly, darling. I am going to remove Cinderella’s slippers.” He felt her feet through her stockings. Ten little toes for me to kiss. He pulled off her stockings. “I am glad you don’t color your toes,” he whispered.

“But I do, but only pink.”I was half-afraid that you gilded them as so

many blondes do. Pink coral lying on white sand. You are so beautiful, Goldie, and is anything morebeautiful than the way the earth takes unto itselfthe sea that falls in the ground. How could the unenlightened ever call it evil? There would be nobeauty on earth without it. The birds’ plumage would be colorless, and they would sing no mating song. It makes the seeded apples grow red in the sun. It is why the winds mingle and sigh in each other’s arms. Two stars must be love’s offspring and out of the earth, a child of the sun.”48

48 Yes, it’s hard to make sense out of this paragraph.

“Your words flow, Bluebeard, as though spokenoften before. How many ears have heard them before?” She smiled at him. “Like good girls, theywere glad to give to you, even as I.” She reached to her zipper, and pulled downward, and her dress fell open.

He still knelt before her. “I can understand,” he whispered, “why in the past, men knelt before altars with worship in their hearts.”

At dinner that evening, Bluebeard suggested that they see a new play he had heard about. “After the show,” he said, “I’ll leave you. I hopeI may have another date, though?”

“I would be disappointed otherwise,” she answered as she drew out her engagement book.

“Look,” he said, “don’t make the date. Let mecall you. I want to find out when a speaker I heard once while on vacation here in New York in conducting church services. I believe I get more out of him than anybody I ever heard. The talk we had this afternoon makes me think you would enjoy him, too. I would like to take you to church some afternoon to hear him. Then afterwards, we could have dinner together and return to your apartment for the night.”

“I’d love it,” Goldie responded.Both Goldie and Bluebeard were disappointed

with the play. It had a modern setting, and they both thought the author had to struggle hard to create problems but without success.

Commenting upon it as they left the theater, Goldie said to Bluebeard, “I felt as if I were reviewing some of my own less interesting love affairs. There was a yawn in every entrance and a

hope in every exit.”“Well,” Bluebeard replied, “it’s hard to

create any very important problems out of modern life. You can’t get very excited over a boy makinglove when you know the girl is going to say yes, if only because she is well-bred. You have to havehandicaps and difficulties to make drama. I think it is rather helpless to try and squeeze it out ofmodern life.”

“Perfection has no problems. I think, Bluebeard, we had better take the moving walk home. We used the plane coming.”

“Right. I’ll leave you at the station and call you soon.”

A few evenings later, Moonbeam telephoned Goldie. They smiled at each other as their faces appeared. “Different to you, honey,” Moonbeam said.

“I’m glad you called, Moonbeam. How was the date with Bruin?”

“It was very nice. Yes, it was all right.”“My, you look so pensive. Now tell me all

about it.”“Are you celibate?”“Yes, we can have a good long chat together.”“What were you doing, Goldie, when I called?”“I had a movie on. I turned the sound off

when you called, but the picture is still running.It’s exotic, and I can’t get interested. I was just thinking I would switch to an adventure reel.Why do you ask? Perhaps you would like to come over?”

“I was trying to find out if it would suit you if I did.”

“Of course, darling. Come over and spend the night. We can talk until we get sleepy.”

“Sure, you want me to?”“Sure, you child. You look as if you wanted

to get something off your chest.”“I am kind of mixed up. I’m turning off and

will be over before your movie ends.”The light faded, and Goldie moved over to her

chair in front of the movie. She watched it, deciding it was hardly worthwhile finding another picture with Moonbeam due in a few minutes.

When Moonbeam arrived, Goldie was still watching the picture.

“Is it almost ended?” Moonbeam asked.“I’ll switch it off.“No, I’ll watch it with you.” Moonbeam drew a

chair over beside Goldie’s. “Well, that’s that,” she said when the play came to an end. I did not want you to switch it off, for I met the girl who played the lead in it once. I think her lovemakingshowed good technique, don’t you?”

“Yes. What I liked about her was that she seemed to lose herself in it. Sometimes the actorsseem conscious that they are being photographed, and they act rather than live.”

“Oh, Cleopatra is a very wholesome sort. She’s a swell girl. How did you like her lover?”

“He isn’t my type.”“Mine either. That sort of spoiled it for

me.”“Let’s get undressed and in bed, Moonbeam. I

can always talk better in bed than any other place.” She pulled the zipper to her dress and stepped out of it. “Want me to hang your dress in

the closet, too?”Moonbeam nodded and handed her dress to

Goldie. She juggled herself on one foot, removing her stockings and put them in the wash shoot. Thenshe removed her paper undies and shoved them in the waste slot. She reached in her bag for her spider cloth pajamas, made from real spider webs, but for all their softness, almost indestructible.They were the natural color of the spider’s web and very becoming to her frail, ethereal type of light blonde beauty. She stretched out on the bed,and Goldie joined her.

Goldie switched off the daylight and turned on a pale silver light.

Moonbeam reached out a restraining hand. “I was going to ask you to leave the light off.”

“I’ll turn it off or bring on the violet light if you like that.” She turned the switch. “There, it is darker than the soul of a German.”

“It’s a little easier to talk to you in the dark. I want to know what another girl thinks about me. I’m ashamed of myself, Goldie.”

“Why, Moonbeam, it is hard to think of you being sinful. Being ashamed is a sin, of course. You poor dear.” She put an arm under Moonbeam and pulled her over toward her. “You know I am attracted to you. I like you such a lot when we met at lunch. Now tell me what’s worrying you.”

“Well, you told me that Bruin was inclined tobe too possessive toward you. I — I’m that way toward him.” She made an effort to release herselffrom Goldie’s embrace. You can’t think much of me.I’m disgusted with myself.”

Goldie’s arms tightened about her companion.

“You mustn’t feel that way about yourself. Even ifthere is something wrong about you, you’ll right it. Why, dear, you’re crying!”

“I haven’t cried for years and years. I’ve had nothing to cry about. Oh, Goldie, you’re just being kind. You must despise me. Imagine me havingnasty thoughts about a man and being unfaithful toother men.”

Chapter 8

“You are not unfaithful to men, Moonbeam. I know that you will remain true to all of them. Youjust have a complex toward Bruin or think you have. Perhaps there is more of this feeling than is generally known. Bruin feels that way toward me. It is selfish and disloyal to the race, of course, but after all, our race is pretty young. We haven’t been out of savagery very long, and it is only to be expected that occasionally there should be a flareback. Now tell us all about it. Perhaps if you talk it through, you will find thatit is more largely just physical than you think.”

“It’s that all right, Goldie.”“Then why not date him often for a few weeks

and get it out of your system? You’ll soon be wanting a change. No one man can satisfy any girl physically. It’s impossible.”

“If that were only all there were to it. We did not make another date, but it was sort of understood that we would. But the unbelievable thing is, the nasty thing is that I’m jealous of you!”

“Moonbeam, dear, that’s awfully primitive, honey.”

“I like you better than any girl I know. I’vethought and thought about my feelings toward Bruin. He was passionate enough toward me but so horribly impersonal. You know how you like a man to be interested in you. And it’s perfectly properfor him to show that he is interested in your workand the sort of girl you are. You like a boy to beinterested in you when you have your clothes on,

too. It’s even permissible for you to feel a certain amount of sentiment toward him as long as you know that you will feel that way about others,too.”

“Of course.”“I had the feeling at breakfast the next

morning that, although he was polite and smiling at me and that later he would get his rose and place it at a fountain, that nevertheless all the time he would be thinking about you.”

“Tell me, Moonbeam, for I think this is important. Was it perhaps only that you felt that you were holding him that annoyed you? A girl feels she has failed if her lover acts indifferent. It may just be that Bruin’s indifference piqued you.”

“I don’t know. That’s why I am all mixed up. Oh, am I being entirely honest? I was terribly attached to him, and when you introduced him to me, I was real anxious for a date. I’ve felt that way before about boys, of course. But at breakfast, I did not want him to leave me. I actually wanted to go to his office with him and just be with him.”

“I’m afraid that’s the way he feels toward me. What an impossible attitude.”

“I know, and I hate it.”“But I don’t think Bruin does despise his way

of feeling toward me. He partly tries to defend it. Why, I actually think that if I would permit it, Bruin would date me so frequently that my friends would be worried about me. I even asked him if he wanted people to think I was his specialgirl.”

“What did he say?”“Naturally, he said that he did not want to

hurt my reputation. It’s a queer situation. Bruin has an improper feeling toward me, and now you tell me you have toward him. Suppose it were you he felt that way toward instead of me with you feeling that way toward him?”

“I know that it is just as bad for two peopleto live for themselves as it would be for one person to live selfishly. It would be the same thing as for those of us living in America to feelmore friendly toward one another than we do towardthose living in other parts of the world. United has made the world one family.”

“There is one thing about you, Moonbeam, as against Bruin. You are willing enough to admit that personal property has been the cause of all wars and all misery. We just simply can’t permit ourselves not to share everything we have with everybody. As soon as we do, we cause unhappiness.49 Bruin knows that, too, but he is willful about his desire for me.”

“Yet, I can see how Bruin feels. We Immortalsare spoiled because we always have whatever we want. Oh, I refuse myself little things. I only have one fur coat because I know raising fur costsUnited a lot of labor hours. I would like an ermine coat instead of my fox. Even if Bruin suggested it to me, I would not be his special girl. What worries me is that I want to be. And itmakes me feel unclean. What right have I to look other men in the eye and give them my body when I

49 Marx, himself, could not have made the point more succinctly.

am unfaithful to them in thought? What decent man wants a girl who is like that — unfaithful!”

“Maybe if you did see a lot of Bruin for a few weeks, you would tire of him.”

“Bruin might not care for that.”“He should be willing to help out a girl who

is in trouble. I’ll tell him he had to date you for every time he dates me. How’s that?”

“I’m not the kind of girl, Goldie Furman, whogoes around snapping my garter at indifferent men.”

“That’s right. It would make you feel immodest.”

“And cheap. I think I should give him up entirely.”

“I’m not so sure of that. I think a better plan would be to crowd something else in your lifethat would gradually eliminate him. It’s your dutyto be happy, so you should follow the plan which is least painful.”

“I don’t know what to crowd into my life thatI haven’t already.”

“You could dope every night you found yourself wanting him.”

“Yes, and probably dream of him.”“You might at that. That’s out.”“I’m keeping you awake, Goldie, with my

selfish problems.”“I’m not sleepy. You could join a club.”“You mean a boy’s or a girl’s?”“Either, it wouldn’t matter.”“That might help for an occasional night. I

know what they say about the clubs. That they are the supreme sharing of oneself and the highest

cultural expression. I haven’t been to one for ages.”

“Me either. We’ll go together some night.”“Now, Goldie, don’t think you have to wish me

on yourself.”“I’m going to whether you like it or not. And

another thing. I met a new boy. He is the intellectual type. He’s invited me to church. He’sto phone the date. When he does, I’ll tell him youare coming along.”

“I’m not. I’m not cutting in on your dates.”“You’re not cutting in my dates. I know, by

United, that you can get all the dates you want. Listen, Moonbeam, don’t be polite. Tell me straight. Do you think it will help at all if I pal around with you until you get over this?”

“Yes, it would, dear, but —”“No, but then. I’m interested in your case.

I’ve got you on a slab under my microscope, and I’m going to keep you there for a while.”

“All right, I’ll stay under your slab, providing you tell me what your microscope revealsabout little me. No one could be any more surprised over my complex than I am. With all the good men there are in the world, why I should wantto be exclusive with one is beyond me.”

“Maybe you are just trying to be different,” Goldie teased. Are you sleepy?”

“Uh, huh,” Moonbeam nestled closer.Goldie and Moonbeam met the next afternoon at

cooking school. Goldie suggested that they have dinner together after school and then go to a movie.

“Thanks, but I’m squirming from under your

microscope for tonight. I clear forgot I made a date two weeks ago with a boy by the name of Devil.”

“Had him before?”“No, he picked me up on a plane.”“I hope you have a good time. Tomorrow night

I —”“Yes, I know you have Bruin. Let’s get

together the night after your date with him.”Goldie nodded. Moonbeam left her to keep a

dinner date she had with her new friend.The next evening, Goldie asked Bruin, “How

did you get along with Moonbeam?”“Oh — Moonbeam. She’s a good kid.”“I think she is unusually attractive.”“Yes, she is. I don’t know, but what I like a

girl a little more substantial. With Moonbeam, a fellow feels a bit like he was making love to a cloud. But why talk about her when there is you todiscuss?”

“I take it then, Bruin, that Moonbeam was allright but just — well, a date.”

“Sure. She has a nice way about her in bed. Tries hard to please and all that. Why are you so interested in her, Goldie?”

She and I have been palling around a bit. I like her.”

“Yeh. Nice kid.”“Dating her again?”“I guess so if I don’t forget.”Goldie felt relieved when she parted from

Bruin the next morning. They made another date fortwo weeks later. He had tried to get an earlier date. She tried to soften her refusal as best she

could. He wanted to know what she was so busy about, and she told him that Moonbeam and she weregoing to a club one night and about her date with Bluebeard. A shadow crossed Bruin’s face when she mentioned Bluebeard. It shocked her to realize that he was jealous. One of the things that her teachers had emphasized at Bermuda when she was a child was that jealousy was one of the lowest of traits. She felt badly that Bruin should be so deficient and that in spite of herself, she was nolonger able to enjoy his company. She knew she wasbored with him. And he still wanted her. She wouldhave to give herself to him occasionally. A decentgirl could not refuse a man. Her body and time were just like any other commodity. They belonged to United. But she knew that nothing was more boring, if not actually annoying, than kisses thathad yawns in them. When she stepped off her plane at the History Building, she put him out of her mind.

At luncheon, Goldie telephoned Moonbeam from her table. She was not at her apartment, so she left a message for her. As she often did when leaving messages, she marveled how almost human the telephone was. Every five minutes until Moonbeam responded to the message, the telephone in her apartment would call her and repeat, “Goldie Furman, 1029 Y 42 B S, wants you to call her, Moonbeam Spencer, 42, X727, B 1,044.”

After her luncheon, Goldie decided to go to her apartment. She felt like spending a lazy afternoon. She had her smoke switch open and was relaxed in her pajamas watching a movie when Moonbeam telephoned her.

“I received your message, dear. What are you doing in your apartment?”

“Just smoking, looking at a movie, and loafing. Want to come over?”

“If it’s convenient, and I’m not a pest.”“Pack your bag and spend the afternoon and

night with me. I haven’t anything on.”“I’m free, too. I’ll be there quicker than a

lover.”When Moonbeam entered the apartment a few

minutes later, Goldie did not get up and kiss her.“Will it bore you, darling, she asked, “to see therest of this movie with me? It’s almost over, and then we can talk.”

“I’d like to,” Moonbeam answered, gratified at Goldie’s informality. It showed what good friends they were that the usual formalities did not have to be practiced. She thought how much shelike Goldie as she poked her slim fingers into thehollow of a perfect curl that hung over Goldie’s ear. “I’ll strip and put on my pajamas.”

When the reel came to an end, Goldie turned the radio off. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Devil phoned me to wear sports clothes, and he took me to a weenie roast and community sing onBear Mountain. We spent the night in a cabin. He was very amorous and nice. We made another date.”

“Soon?”“No, in three weeks. He insisted that I date

a friend of his. I have his number and am to call him. It seems he is crazy about my type, and Devilwants me to try him.”

These fellows who want you to try some pal oftheirs. And then the pal has a pal.”

“I know. You get all dated way up ahead that way, and then if some interesting boy wants to pick you up, you have to put him off for a month or squeeze him in between. What about your date?”

“I knew that was coming. There isn’t much to tell. He thinks you have good bed manners.”

“Didn’t he say anything at all about me but that prosaic compliment? I suppose you had even tofish that out of him.”

“He said you were a nice kid, and he wants todate you again.”

“Sure, me and who else?”Goldie put her arm around Moonbeam. “The

weenie roast and new lover didn’t help a great deal then? There’s the phone.”

Goldie went to it. “Different to you. Why, Bluebeard. I’ve been expecting you to call.”

“I had forgotten how beautiful you are.”“Why, Bluebeard, how could you?”“Well, you can’t just realize that some

things are so, even after you’ve seen them. You’retoo good to be true.”

“I am so true. Ask any of my lovers.”“That lecturer is holding services at three

o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Can you go?”“Yes, but I have something to show you.”“What, something else?”Goldie’s eyes traveled down her pajama coat

and then lifted them to Bluebeard’s gaze. They grinned at each other. “Something even nicer,” shecontinued. “I want you to meet my guest. Moonbeam,come here. Purse your lips for a nice kiss for Bluebeard.”

Moonbeam did as she was told lingeringly.

“Nice, Bluebeard, I hear you are a lumberjack or were. You’re quite different, indeed. Is that a dimple in your chin? It’s so intriguing.”

“No, it’s a wart, you elf you. Where did you find her, Goldie?”

“I was in a plane idling through the clouds, and right in the center of a big billowy one, I found her fast asleep. I grabbed her quick becauseI thought you might want her.”

“Want her? Listen. Moonbeam, snap your garter, will you?”

“I’ll do no such thing. I never snap my garter at a man unless I’ve known him for at leastthree minutes.”

“A prude, ‘eh?”“Bluebeard, if I’m not butting in on your and

Moonbeam’s conversation, I wanted to suggest that Moonbeam come to the lecture, too.”

“Well, I have to be polite. If you insist upon dragging the little prude along, I guess I’llhave to stand for it. It’s too bad, though.”

“Oh, thank you, Bluebeard,” Moonbeam gushed. “You’re so nice about it. That is a dimple, isn’t it? A lumberjack with a dimple, dear me!”

“Let’s ignore her, Goldie. I think she is a psychological case anyway. How about lunch before church?”

“Agreed. Where?”Bluebeard named the place and switched off.“Like him?” Goldie asked.“He is nice, isn’t he?”“Yes, but he hasn’t any dimple.”“I know, but I always kid a new man about any

imaginary dimple. He thinks you are hinting that

you have one, and it intrigues him.”“He’ll date you. I could see it in his eyes.”“I could, too. I’ll give him one, of course.”They had the luncheon with Bluebeard under a

pier on the Hudson. They were fortunate in findinga vacant table by the front glass wall. Since the river was a preserve, it teamed with fish. To be sure, they were Northern varieties and not as colorful as fish they had all seen from similar restaurants located on tropical waters, but it waspleasant to watch them swimming about. One huge fellow swam over to the glass before their table and remained there stationary except for the slow movement of its fins. It gazed at them with its solemn eyes.

“I wonder what he is thinking about?” Goldie asked reflectively as she dipped her spoon in her maple mousse.

“They say their love life is very unsatisfactory,” Moonbeam remarked.

“I’m not so sure of that,” Bluebeard responded. “They must get something out of it whenyou consider all the trouble they go to. Take a salmon swimming up the rapids to bring their little babies into the damp world. I think some ofthe lower creatures take their sexual relations more seriously than we do. Isn’t it the bee that flies to heaven after the queen, performs, and then drops dead to the earth? Now I’m for it but —” He rubbed his chin — “to die —” He grinned.

“You’d feel you got stung. I suppose,” Moonbeam remarked flippantly.”

“Now in your case, Moonbeam,” Bluebeard reached across the table for her hand, “I might be

willing to die — of exhaustion.”“You aren’t by any possible chance trying to

date me, are you, Bluebeard?”“You know United damn well I am. Will the

gracious lady please get out her engagement book and find a stray night for me? In the night come from behind the clouds and shine for me.” He turned toward Goldie, “Am I doing all right, and is she interested?”

Goldie smiled at the two of them.Moonbeam reached for her engagement book. How

about next Thirdnight?”He nodded eagerly.She wrote in the little book, and then her

left hand reached downward and snapped her garter.A couple at the table beside them smiled

approval.Goldie lifted her coffee cup. “To a moonlit

night. My blessing, dear children.”

Chapter 9

The church was one of a group of a dozen buildings nicely set in the park on Welfare Island. The island, which centuries before had been used for prison and hospital buildings, was now a recreation center. Theaters, dance halls, rough houses, clubs, tennis and squash courts, bowling alleys, and flying cages were all housed in buildings resembling medieval castles. The church’s architecture was Gothic, and it was quitelarge. As with the other buildings on the island, it was surrounded by beautiful trees and well-keptlawns. On either side of the main path leading to the entrance were various religious statues and idols. There was a Buddha, a Chinese prayer tablet, a reproduction of the Kaaba Stone, anotherof the Ark of Yahweh, a statue of the Crucified Christ, a grotesque elephant-headed body, a three-eyed gargoyle, a dragon, a sacred snake, and a phallic stone. These idols were skillfully placed to their best advantage. It was as though each idol had been set up by a devotee. They gave the appearance of real shrines, nestled among the trees. They were not simply exhibition pieces set in a museum.

The interior of the church, with its great arches, tall stained-glass windows, and golden religious symbols, was very beautiful, especially as it was filled with clouds of incense smoke and lighted with dim lavender rays.

A chant was being conducted by a chorus as they entered. There were perhaps fifty girls in the chorus and one man resembling a priest. The

girls all wore plain long gray garments. The priest wore a long robe of brilliant scarlet with a huge diamond hung on a purple glass chain so that it rested on his breast. All of the church was in pale lavender light except where the choruswas grouped. Here the light was like that of earlymorning.

The priest would chant a line, and the girls would respond, swaying their bodies to the words. The gray of the gowns worn by the girls was relieved by their uncovered heads with their different shades of hair — blue, golden, and black. They were barefooted, and their feet seemedlike snow upon the black floor before the altar.

The chant rose and fell, now a more whisper, then becoming strong, vibrant, and challenging. The swaying of their bodies increased. A great organ, silent before, took up the strain. The girls began to dance, slowly at first and then increasing in tempo. Suddenly, darkness came, and they could be seen no more. Out of the darkness came singing, slow and low at first and then faster and stronger while the organ thundered.

In one final, triumphant note, the singing and organ ceased. For a moment, there was silence and darkness. Then the same lavender mist that lighted the body of the church came on before the audience, and in a pulpit somewhat higher and to the right of the altar, a man stood like a statue in the light of a spotlight. For a full minute, hestood silently.

Goldie relaxed in her seat. Unconsciously, she had been leaning forward, rapt and tense, under the influence of the pageantry, the singing,

and the dancing. A feeling that she had felt but few times before in her life possessed her, although she could feel it slipping from her. It had been a queer feeling for a modern girl — a mild form of religious ecstasy. She moved closer to Bluebeard. He put his hand on her thigh. He didnot speak, but she felt that if he did, she would know what he would say. “Yes, I felt it, too. We all did, a belief in some higher thing that you know isn’t so. It was damn effective.”

“Friends,” the lecturer began to speak, “we are all so wise with the wisdom of the ages behindus and the knowledge of the many years we have lived as individuals. Yet, before sheer beauty, webecome as feeling children rather than thinking adults. And it is good for feeling is far more important than thinking. The mind is only a book of knowledge about life. Feeling is the actual living of life. The mind is only a map of the world. Feeling is the actual world. We are scientific sometimes and take apart the petals of the rose. At other times, we simply enjoy its beauty, its fragrance. The first is the mind working; the second is feeling it.”50

50 In this long and wide-ranging sermon, Clarke reveals his thought about many things, most notably the centrality of “feeling” in understanding and living in the world. In his “Fifty Years of Begging,” 26-27, Clarke refers to this notion: “If we love our neighbor as we love our self, how much of the pain in the world would be softened. If we livedin a world of kindness instead of self-seeking. We make muchof our own hell when we could make a bit of heaven. If the world were governed by human kindness, the rose vine would grow up to our window, and some morning we would open our eyes to find a rose greeting us.”

Beyond his seminary courses, Clarke simultaneously matriculated at Washington and Jefferson College in Washington, Pennsylvania near Pittsburgh. The school’s

“There is much more feeling in our lives thanthinking. We eat a beefsteak not by thinking but by feeling. We watch a sunset with our feeling soul and not our thinking mind. We make a friend in the same way, listen to music thus, and so we take a lover. And our feeling is stronger than ourthinking. It controls our thinking more than we realize. We are hungry, and before us is set a thick beefsteak. Our minds have a certain concept of that beefsteak. We eat it, and then if another beefsteak were set before us, just as thick, just as juicy, our mental reaction to this second steakis far different. What we feel very largely governs what we think. Often our thinking is just a weak little chain of excuses for what we feel.”

“It is because United realizes this that we call ourselves boys and girls and purposely play and laugh like children. There are delights of themind, of course, but they are not to be compared with the delights of the flesh. It was a wise philosopher who said, somewhat facetiously, ‘The only use I have for my mind is that it thinks up new delights for my flesh.’”

“In a word, I think that in the past, the mistake has been made of making the mind the master of the flesh to rule it rather than to makeit the servant of the flesh to serve it. In the past, the mind and the flesh have often been enemies when they should have been the best of

records show him as a graduate student from 1916 to 1918 andthat in 1918 he received his Master of Arts degree with a major in Philosophy and a minor in English. His thesis, “Influence of Feelings in the Reasoning Process,” unfortunately, no longer exists. Clarke III, Fifty Years, 30-31.

friends. The flesh came first, and as the mind emerged, it possessed the egotism of youth. The mind said to man, ‘I am what makes you higher thanthe animals. I am the last step in evolution. Without me, you are only a dumb beast. With me, you become a god and make all beasts your servantsand all inanimate things your tools.”

“I would be foolish, indeed, to deny that themind has a good argument here. But there are two things of which I would remind you. First, we mustguard against the terror of considering that feeling is distinctly separated from the mind and that it is wholly physical. Feelings, the physicaland the mind, are intermingled and dependent upon one another. Without the physical, there is, of course, neither feeling nor mind. There are some problems that can be answered by cold, mathematical logic. You answer very quickly that two and two make four. That is pure mathematics. But you cannot solve the problem of what any one of the four units is by mathematics alone. We could go on endlessly and boringly upon this theme. What I really am aiming at is a tendency onthe part of we Immortals to believe that the mind — the cold scientific mind — is the ultimate in our lives. I could go to the other extreme and saythat the mind is hardly more than a device to measure the physical and our feelings. We should not forget that the very life of the mind is dependent upon the physical, that thinking is tremendously influenced by feeling. It is greatly so and rightly so.”

“We live in a moral age. We Immortals don’t lie. We don’t steal. We don’t treat one another

cruelly. Why? I can almost hear some of you say, ‘The human race has reached a point in its intelligence where it knows these things do not pay. They do not make for human happiness. We are wise enough, yes, coldly intellectual enough to discard them. Sin is ignorance. Virtue is intelligence. When the race was young and ignorant, it sinned. Now that it has become matureand wise, it has ceased to sin.’”

“I believe that explanation is only a half-truth. I do not think that kindness is something that has been worked out along purely logical lines like a problem in mathematics. There is something else here, something that is akin to beauty. There are certain instincts, which we havethat go further back than the birth of the human mind. The love of music and sunsets, the roll of awave upon a beach, and the stored light in a precious stone. The tenderness that a boy feels toward a girl. The fierce sweetness of a girl’s desire to please a boy that makes the love embraceseem to her the fulfillment of all that is deepestand most significant in her life.”

“The belief that all of man’s actions could be added up as so many things thought out by his mind and that he could be held accountable for thesum of them is one of the greatest mistakes that the human race has made. In the old days, crime was reckoned on this basis. Punishment was measured out to a lawbreaker with a practical disregard of attending circumstances. If a criminal was one who sat down and, by cold reasoning, decided to commit a crime without beinginfluenced by his heredity, his environment, his

physical state, and even his mental unbalance, then he could be punished on that basis. But in olden times, men were criminals for more complex reasons than anything so simple as a mental process of deciding.”

“We so often blame our ancestors for what they were. We are so ashamed of the filth out of which we have come. But no race is really guilty of its crimes. Nor is any individual guilty. We blame our ancestors for their wars, their cruelty,selfishness, and deceit. Yet, the whole system of so-called civilization was then based on these evils. The competitive system encouraged man’s hand to be turned against his brother. In a world where there never was enough of anything, man had to be cruel to live, selfish to survive, deceitfulto get along with his neighbors and, at the same time, fawning if he was to get a crust to still his hunger.”

“A boy was taught in the family life he had to do terrible things. He was taught at his mother’s knee and by his father’s example to look out. There would always be two people to one pieceof cake and to grab quickly. To your own self be true. Be selfish and get along well. A girl’s training was a little different. She was not to grab for the cake herself. She was to press her leg against the boy sitting next to her and inveigle him into grabbing it for her. Sweetly, the devoted mother taught her child the value of her physical charms and gave her a little bag of tricks to use in capturing a husband. Capturing a husband was not easy. It was a very competitive matter to get the husband you wanted. Naturally, a

lot of girls wanted the better ones. There were a lot of helpful tricks: flattery, pretended indifference, being very mysterious, being very jolly — oh, lots of tricks, but the real trick wasto keep partly pulling it out of her bag and then quickly drop it in again was the sex trick.”

“This sex trick was a case of now you think you have it and now you find you haven’t. The successful female competitor must learn how to intrigue, allure, and tease but not deliver until payment was made. Taking one another in love in those days was not the frank, honest, and joyouslyfree practice it is today. No, indeed, it was something that was bought and sold. They were too acquisitive. They wanted to own things, even theirwives.”

“It is a wonder that there was any kindness in the world at all in those days. The poor man always had the example of the rich. He did not believe that the rich man was the way because he was fair and honest and kind and considerate of his fellow man. He was a rich man because he was clever, and his neighbor was poor because he was stupid. They had a saying in those days that business was business, and it certainly was.”

“Oh, I know they camouflaged it all with beautiful words and their religion of Jesus. ThankUnited that they did. It shows that they were not altogether without hope. On Sundays, they bowed together in prayer in their churches. But on Monday, they went out and sold things to one another, and rabbit became ermine. Toothpaste was put in a box an inch longer than the paste.”

“Yet, would we be any different under such a

system? What a paradox it all was. The poems they wrote, the music they sang, and the churches they built! A little flame burned in their hearts that tried to warm them, but it could only feebly tremble, starved for a bit of fresh air. For theirsystem of government was based on a money standardthat encouraged all that was lowest in human nature. Money was the chief reward in life, and for one man who tried honestly to earn it through actual service, there were a hundred who tried to gain it through trick plays. Sometimes the plays were too tricky and ran afoul of the law. Some menwent to prison. But there were bigger criminals often outside of the jails than in. They did not as a rule put emperors and dictators in jails, andit was often more dangerous to steal a loaf of bread when you were hungry than a railroad when you were just greedy.”

“Yet, would we be any different if we lived then? For the male, life was based on the philosophy of the old barnyard. Every rooster for himself and keep your spurs sharp. Fight for the fine feathers, rip, and draw blood. There is no knot of kindness in a rooster’s crow.

“The female clucked and did not crow. She clucked to call attention to herself. In the old barnyard, the medium of exchange for the roosters was hens. It was pretty much the same thing in society just before the last world war. It was a little more complicated. You did not puff up your feathers, crow, and fight it out until death with the other rooster. You played a game with him to get his money. If you got that, you could easily get plenty of chicken. And the female chickens

knew that money could buy plenty of corn.”“They used to have coming-out parties for

debutants in those days. All the young roosters were invited around to look over the young lady chickens. And if these debutantes had worn price tags stating the amount it would cost to buy them,or the amount they hoped to get, it would not havemade the purpose of such coming out parties any more obvious.”

“Everything was for sale in those days, even bodies. The mother was too shrewd to permit her daughter to give away something that would fetch avery good price on the market. And men supported women in the sale of their bodies. Men did becauseof their acquisitiveness. A man wanted the sole ownership of his woman. He wanted to be sure she belonged to him alone.”

“So, the girls used what charms they had. Their dresses were cut low on top and high on the bottom, but not too low or too high. They used what charms they possessed, but they never forgot the look inside artfully covered with the meat outside.” [?]

“It was all a system of buying and selling. Of course, it was not so simple as all this sounds. Mixed with it was the religious sanction of marriage. Lofty things were written and said about the sanctity of the home, about the purity of woman. Meanwhile, the children were lied to andtold they had been found in a cabbage patch by thedoctor who brought them home to papa and mamma.”

“The possessiveness of the husband made him very insistent that his wife must bear only his children. Even if he was diseased physically and

weak mentally while his neighbor possessed a strong body and a fine mind, the children must notbe conceived by the neighbor’s help. The fact thatthe neighbor would have helped bring healthy, keen-minded children in the world was not so important. The fact that the husband would bring weak and sickly children into the world was not soimportant. The fact that a child would be cursed all his life and handicapped every day he lived byhaving the weaker of two fathers was not so important. The important thing was that the child should belong to the man who had purchased the child’s mother and hence owned her and everything that might come out of her. It was moral, duly decent, and proper that the offspring should carryall through its life whatever defects the husband had. Religion demanded it!”

“Out of such selfish philosophy, sanctioned by church and state, have we come. Pigs and horsesmight benefit by selective parentage but not children. Yet, men and women in those days were victims of their beliefs. If we lived under such beliefs, we would not be any different. We should be more ready to pity our ancestors than to condemn them. They tried to struggle toward the right. Human life crawled out of the sea on its slimy body. It developed slowly and not easily. Itstruggled and suffered and did the best it could. It was never free from physical handicaps and isn’t even today. Its mind came last, and even today, its mind is dependent upon more than itself. Feeling and instinct still shape our lives. We are not wholly thinking creatures. And we have not reached perfection.”

“I do not believe that mind alone will enablethe race to reach perfection. Feeling will always influence us. We are a complex mechanism. We must be humble as well as proud. Maybe a thousand yearshence you and I shall look back upon the present and see where we were wrong in many things. Perhaps we still are more selfish than we realize.”

“Let us not be so ashamed of our past. Natureis not through with us. Evolution carried us on until today and shall continue to carry us on tomorrow. Marvelous is evolution, for it has no beginning and no ending. There never was a time when it began. There never was a time when there was nothing. There never will be a time when therewill not be something. Neither time nor the universe had a beginning or is to have an end. Never a time either when it will stop or cease itsendless changing. We, too, shall change and, pray United, for the better.”51

“May we grow in those things, which we have learned have brought to the race happiness. Kindness, above all, the beginning and the end of happiness — or rather, the continued flow of it. Not selling and buying but giving and receiving, not I but United and not one old fashioned god to fear but new-fashioned gods to rejoice in and love.”

51 An interesting statement from Rev. Clarke. First and unlike many of his Christian contemporaries, he in full voice accepted evolution. Second, again unlike many of his fellow Christians, it seems that for him, not just God, but physical existence as well has always existed.

Chapter 10

The black light, which had recently been discovered, brought night to the speaker and pulpit. The organ played a recessional. People around Goldie and her two companions began to brush past her on the way to the aisle and exits.

“Shall we go?” Bluebeard whispered.In answer, Goldie rose, and the three of them

made their way out of the church.“What did you think of him, Goldie? Bluebeard

asked when they were in the park again.“I liked him. Of course, there is never

anything new to be said, but it is good to be reminded even of what you already know. It makes you thoughtful.”

What I liked,” Moonbeam took Bluebeard’s arm possessively, “was his saying a person isn’t to beblamed for what she is or does. That’s such a comfortable thought.”

“Maybe we are not to blame,” Bluebeard answered, “but you can be sorry for your deficiencies.”

“And what are my deficiencies?” Moonbeam asked flippantly.

“Like all actors, you are an exhibitionist. But maybe I shall like that when I sleep with you.Does any boy know a girl’s virtues or limitations until he has slept with her?”

“You’ll not find laziness is one of my limitations.”

Bluebeard laughed. “You know, Goldie, sometimes I think Moonbeam is playing a part.” He looked at Moonbeam speculatively. “Is there some

dark secret in your life, sweetheart?”Moonbeam’s eyes met Goldie’s. Goldie just

smiled, but she thought that Bluebeard was wiser than he realized. She had wondered a bit at the play Moonbeam had seemed to be making for Bluebeard. But if she read Moonbeam’s eyes rightly, the girl was still worrying about Bruin. There was even a hint of desperation in Moonbeam’seyes. The poor dear seemed to be pretty hard hit over Bruin and probably was hoping that Bluebeard would help her forget what she must have considered an unhealthy and improper interest.

“Speaking of laziness,” Bluebeard said, “I was reading an old Russian novel the other day. One of the characters was notoriously lazy. Funny how it never occurred to the author that the man was a victim of circumstances. In those days, theyso seldom asked the reason back of a condition. Ifa man was lazy, he was entirely to blame. He was naughty.”

While, of course,” Goldie injected, “it was due to some mental or physical defect. It isn’t natural to be lazy. A day is never long enough to do all the things a person wants to do.”

“It’s the short nights that worry me.” Moonbeam shook her head sadly.

“I think, Goldie, Moonbeam is making fun of our intellectual complexes. I am afraid she feels that the hour we spent in church could have been more profitably spent dancing or perhaps banging around in some flying cage.”

“Say, that’s an idea. It’s too early to eat. Let’s spend an hour in a flying cage. That is if you want to.” Moonbeam glanced at her two

companions.“Suits me,” Goldie responded.“Me, too,” Bluebeard assented.In the flying cage building, the two girls

separated from Bluebeard to go to their dressing room. There was a noisy crowd in the girls’ room. Goldie and Moonbeam stripped and put their things on one of the wall benches. They got into playsuits. Over at one end of the room, a group ofgirls was playing leapfrog.

“Come on, Moonbeam, “let’s take a couple of minutes and join the crazy bunch. Snap out of it, dear, and forget Bruin.”

Moonbeam shrugged and ran over to the line ofstopping girls. She began jumping over them with Goldie following. When they got to the end of the line, they both bent over and let a flock of yelling girls hurdle them. Breathless and laughing, a few minutes later, they joined Bluebeard.

The Flying Cage was a large room about a halfa city block in size and about ten stories high. There were two smaller rooms, one an entrance roomfor getting into a plane and the other an exit room for alighting. In the entrance room were a number of small flying machines. Each machine was just large enough for a single occupant. Goldie climbed into one of the machines and strapped herself securely to the seat. She fastened a rubber clamp into her mouth. Even though the outside of the machine was coated with soft rubberin which were embedded small springs, and the cageoutside was similarly lined, she knew it was a wise precaution. Seated comfortably in the plane,

she gave a giggle of satisfaction over the ingenuity of those who had perfected the thing. Itcould only go ten miles an hour, and with its propeller protected and its rubber sides, there was no danger.

Goldie took the steering wheel and pushed on the “go” switch. The car started forward and entered the flying room. The room was rather thickwith machines. A machine was in front of her. She tried to steer around it but was unsuccessful, andwith the series of bumps, her car mounted the other one with soft thumps and slid along its top and then down in front of it, and she was free. But only for a half-minute. It was impossible to steer clear of the other machines, and all over the cage, the little flying cars banged into one another.

It was much more fun than a rollercoaster. Goldie was not a particularly good flying cage fan. But she did love the exhilaration of the sport. Busy as she was, she observed the skill of some of the experts whose quick coordination between mind and muscle kept the number of their collisions at a minimum. Of course, the little ships had no wings, and they were like cucumbers. Some of the riders were able to miss one another with great dexterity.

The bumps, however, to Goldie were as much fun as the quick steering. She closed her eyes fora while and let her machine go wild. It was a wilddash and then a bump followed by a series of little bumps and then free again and another big bump. The physical effect was somewhat like one ofthe massage machines that in ten minutes could

give one the equivalent of hours of exercise. It was always a temptation to Goldie when she got into one of these cages to stay too long and become exhausted. So, after fifteen minutes or so,she tried to make an exit. After several attempts and a series of collisions, she finally made it and turned her motor off. An attendant steadied her as she stepped from the car. She knew from past experience it would take her a moment or two to sober up and gain real control of her feet and limbs.

She was just emerging from the shower and drying room when she met Moonbeam coming in. “Havefun?” Goldie asked.

“I feel as if I had been run through a coffeegrinder,” Moonbeam answered. “Dress, and I’ll be out in a jiffy. I don’t know if Bluebeard is stillsailing around or not. Think up some good place toeat.”

Goldie dressed and then went out to the waiting room. There was an orchestra and a small dance space in the room. Goldie smiled to herself.Certainly, Immortals did not do much relaxing. Here was a room that no one expected to be in for more than a few minutes while they waited for their friends. Yet, United felt that there should be some amusement. Goldie moved over toward a chair, but a boy spoke to her.

“Too shaken up for a dance, blondie?”“No, I suppose not. My name is Goldie.”“Mine is Ivan.”“Ivan the Terrible?”“Sure. I’m dated. Are you?”“Yes.”

“Too bad. The music isn’t so terrible. I likethe big television orchestras better, though.”

“This is more homey.” Goldie knew he was referring to the dance places that had a whole wall as a screen for the television showing of famous orchestras.

When the music ceased at the end of the selection and they were clapping for an encore, Ivan exclaimed, “There’s my date. I’ve got to go now. Come over and meet her.”

Goldie permitted him to lead her over to an attractive red-headed girl.

“Goldie,” Ivan said, “I want you to meet my date. We are having each other tonight. Meet her —”

Both the girl and Goldie laughed. “What’s in a name, anyway?” Goldie remarked.

“It’s Marguerite, Ivan. I don’t blame you very much. It’s a common name.”

“Well, I haven’t had you yet, so —”“I know, dear. You weren’t listening when I

told you my name. You did listen when I snapped mygarter, though.” She took Ivan’s arm and, with a “Be different” to Goldie, moved away with him.

“Decided on a place to eat yet?”Goldie turned around to face Moonbeam and

Bluebeard. “No, I haven’t. Where shall we go?”“I have a suggestion,” Bluebeard volunteered.

“How about a dinner boat and food off Sandy Hook?”52

“I’ll fall for it,” Moonbeam said, “Providingwe eat on deck in natural air. Suit you, Goldie?”

52 A barrier beach peninsula at the northern tip of the Jersey shore.

Goldie nodded, and they took the walking walkto the ferries on Staten Island.

The dinner boat had no destination. It left its pier to move its way out through the Narrows to the ocean, sailing for a leisurely dinner and return to its pier in a couple of hours. It was pleasant dining on the deck beneath the moon and stars. One thing Goldie liked about it was the quiet. The orchestra and dancing were in the air-conditioned dining room below them. On the deck, each table was almost a little world to itself.

Bluebeard did most of the talking. Both Goldie and Moonbeam encouraged him to. He had a way of philosophizing about his work and recreation hours that was interesting to both girls and especially to Goldie.

“You go through life,” Goldie remarked, “likeI read a good book. I like to read a chapter and then stop to smoke and meditate upon it.”

“You daydream after a chapter. So, do I. How about you, Moonbeam?”

“I have to be in a certain mood to read a book. I think it is more real to see and hear one over the radio.”

“Of course, but I like to rest my ears once in a while,” Bluebeard said. “Besides, a book can be like a friend you know well. Like walking with such a friend, whose steps linger with yours. You can linger over a paragraph. What are you girls going to have for dessert? I have eaten so much. Ithink I shall have some fruit. Let’s see — some blackberries.”

“I like raspberries better,” Goldie said. “I’ll have them.”

“Fruit,” Moonbeam mused. “I know — an apple. I haven’t’ eaten an apple in ages.”

They were leisurely eating their desert when Moonbeam suddenly jumped to her feet, upsetting her chair, and emitted an excited “Oo-h!”

Goldie and Bluebeard looked at her in amazement while people at nearby tables pushed their chairs back and stood up to see what was thematter.

“What is it? Moonbeam? What is it?” Bluebearddemanded.

“Send for the waiter quick,” Moonbeam exclaimed.

Several waiters dashed up. Moonbeam pointed to the apple. The waiter stood perplexed and uncertain. “What is it about?” one of them finallymanaged.

“It — it has a worm in it!” Moonbeam pointed at the apple dramatically.53

Bluebeard gingerly picked up the apple and examined it. “She’s right, it has! A worm! Why, it’s alive!”

“Telephone the emergency!” a woman diner yelled wild-eyed.

Bluebeard reached for the telephone and then hesitated. “The emergency is more for accidents, for a catastrophe of some kind.”

“But we’ve got to do something, the same 53 In their literally and figuratively sanitized, Disneyesque world, Immortals were always seeking new thrills, danger, and entertainment, e.g., a worm in an apple. It is interesting that in this future, all of nature,much like Enlightenment gardens of the 18th-century, was bent to man’s will. Wood wrote, “I think the discovery of the worm in the apples was amusing — all the excitement and concern!”

woman insisted. “It may get away, the dirty, terrible thing!”

“I think you should call up the Department ofAgriculture,” Goldie suggested. She spread out hernapkin and set the apple carefully in the center of it.

Bluebeard nodded. “Of course.” He was on the telephone for some time explaining what had happened. He was told that a squad was coming overand was cautioned not to let the worm get away. The person at the other end of the line did not disconnect. He asked more questions while the squad was on its way. He told Bluebeard that he would call Washington and also the chief of the great agricultural center at the Desert of Sahara.He would call him immediately, too.

From that time on, there was the greatest amount of excitement on the boat. The captain had her turned around and headed back to the pier. Butlong before the ship reached its pier, she was metby all kinds of speedboats. Agricultural experts and scientific specialists of various kinds kept arriving. Representatives of the press wanted interviews with Moonbeam. The radio people made a hook-up and interrupted programs going to all quarters of the globe for the special interview they gave Moonbeam right on the boat. They had herhold up the apple with its worm so that the whole world could see it.

One of the men from the agricultural squad told Goldie that there had not been a worm found in any kind of fruit for over ten years. “It’s a miracle,” he exclaimed, “and a mystery, too.”

“What will they do about it? Goldie asked,

amused in spite of herself at all the excitement.“Try and trace its source down. We’ll

confiscate all the apples on board, of course. We must learn without a moment’s delay where it came from.”

Everybody on the boat wanted to talk with Moonbeam. People hurriedly finished the food on their plates and did not order more. They would have left uneaten what they had ordered if waste was not considered unethical. Down below, no one wanted to dance anymore. They all crowded to the upper deck to try and get a glimpse of Moonbeam and her worm. Even the orchestra, with no one leftto play to, came above too.

The captain of the ship took Moonbeam’s arm. “For United’s sake, get in the center of the deck.We’ll turn over with everybody jammed at one side like this.”54 He helped Moonbeam up on a table so that she could be better seen. She would have beenseparated from Goldie and Bluebeard if she had notheld onto them with both hands and dragged them through the swarm.

Moonbeam, from the top of her table, held court. Immortals were ever seeking new thrills. Theirs was a perpetual search for new entertainment. They knew that the serious part of Moonbeam’s discovery of a worm would be taken careof by the proper persons and agencies. Therefore, they were ready to get what entertainment they 54 Clarke was intimately familiar with such an event. On Saturday, July 24, 1915, Clarke’s brother, Robert, with his wife and child were among the victims when the excursion steamer Eastland capsized while tied to its dock on the Chicago River. The passengers had crowded to one side of thevessel. Some 844 died in what was the largest loss of life from a single shipwreck on the Great Lakes.

could out of the incident. All of the men clamoredfor dates and waved their engagement books before her. She would not date any of them, but she had some sort of answer to make to most of them. She knew that they wanted her to act the clown. She wanted to please them. Life in United did not havemany mishaps. Here she had found a worm in an apple, and everyone wanted to get all the fun theycould out of the affair.

One thing everybody liked about the incident.It gave them an excuse to single a fellow Immortalout, to make a fuss over her. Love for one anotherwas so ingrained in them that they rejoiced in such an opportunity. They kept Moonbeam on the table until the boat docked.

Even then, they would not let her get down from the table. They told her that they were goingto carry her to the dock. They asked her to pick some boy to carry her on his shoulders. She promptly picked Bluebeard. She climbed onto his shoulders and yelled to the captain to carry Goldie. With singing and cheering, both girls werecarried off the ship and clear to the elevator that ran down to the moving walk. Even here, the crowd seemed unwilling to disperse. It was fifteenor twenty minutes later before Moonbeam, Goldie, and Bluebeard were able to get an elevator. They finally arrived at Goldie’s apartment.

When Bluebeard shut the door, Moonbeam sank into a chair. “Lord, what a night! Thanks for letting me come here with you. I’ll leave in a fewminutes, but if I hadn’t stayed with you, I would have had to make a date with someone, and I’m too all in for that.”

“You stay here with Goldie,” Bluebeard said. It’s way past midnight, and you need to rest and not have to go out again. I’ll run along.”

“How about your needing sleep?” Moonbeam asked. Besides —” she looked at Goldie.

“Oh, Bluebeard and I can wait, Moonbeam. I’m free tomorrow night anyway, and if you are, Bluebeard, we can date then. Only I hate to turn you out.”

“I can be home in ten minutes. We’ll have dinner together tomorrow night.”

“For the love of Pete!” Moonbeam stood up andpulled on the zipper of her dress. “Goodness, whatis all the fuss about? Goldie, how foolish to makehim go home. Stay, you chump, only I am so sleepy that I’ll probably fall right off to dream about worms in my apples.”

Chapter 11

Goldie and Bluebeard became very close friends. Goldie had found in the past that she waslike all Immortals in that she would go off on a tangent for a while. Some new interest would come along, and off she would go on it for a while, maybe for a few days or even for a few years. There was always plenty of time to get tired of itand get back to the usual line of her life.

In Bluebeard, Goldie found a companion who fostered in her an interest in the things of the mind. She did not take intellectual pursuits over seriously. In fact, Bluebeard agreed with her in this. He remarked about it to the effect that the common mind of United had pretty much thought to completion all that there was to think about. “No individual,” he told her, “is apt to add anything to what has already been thought out. I recognize my intellectual interests are just a hobby. Of course, as a worker in history, if I can add even the tiniest bit to knowledge, I shall be glad. Butthese bits would be facts, I am afraid, rather than the philosophy connected with facts. And my mind is not the most significant part of me. Feeling is so much more important.

“Goldie had answered, “Sure, I see the stars at night, and I feel the beauty of them. That feeling means far more than the knowledge that they are other worlds and that so many miles existbetween them. It even means more than my trying tophilosophize about the facts I how concerning them.”

But even though they both realized this,

Bluebeard, to a greater extent than anybody she had ever known real well, was interested in his investigations. He was especially intrigued by what people thought in the uncivilized days beforethe Final Renaissance. He loved to talk and speculate about their lives and thoughts. She found that his long discussions of what he and read and studied challenged her own somewhat dormant interest in such matters. So, they saw a great deal of each other.

Bruin accused Goldie of having an improper interest in Bluebeard. She had to explain that herinterest in him was pretty much the same kind of interest she could have in some girl if the girl possessed a keenness for certain aspects of history that she and Bluebeard had in common.

She found that there was always one way of settling any argument with Bruin. All she had to do was to promise him another date. She gave him agreat many more dates than she really wanted to give him. In truth, she did not want to give him any more dates at all. To herself, she admitted that she was tired of him. But she was a religiousgirl, and as such, she had to be kind. So, she formed the habit of giving him a night every otherweek and continued to sleep with him as her ethical duty. But he was an increasing problem.

What she told Bruin about her relationship with Bluebeard was true. Many nights with him at her apartment, they had turned on the smoke switchand exchanged talk instead of kisses so that in the end, they became drowsy and fell asleep without any lovemaking. In the morning, they wouldlaugh about it and half-apologetically make

excuses to one another.Neither Bluebeard nor Goldie saw Moonbeam as

often as they had thought they would. Goldie had thought the night of the worm incident that the three of them were going to be together a good deal. In the first place, she thought that Moonbeam needed her. Then, too, she knew that Bluebeard was attracted to Moonbeam physically. Ithad worked out that night when they returned to Goldie’s apartment that Moonbeam was not as tired as she thought she was. Bluebeard and she had gravitated toward each other like glue poured fromtwo bottles. To be sure, Bluebeard had given Goldie a quick little half-sheepish look asking permission. She had grinned and nodded. She watched them with amused interest. She had not minded that Bluebeard was her date and yet, was irresistibly drawn to Moonbeam. Feeling that he only had acted natural. She was happy for their pleasure. Later, when Bluebeard turned toward her,she had murmured that she was sleepy. That had notbeen altogether true, but she had not wanted to lessen her two companion’s ardor for each other. She was so very fond of both of them.

At that, she did fall asleep fairly quickly, leaving her two bedmates to a world of their own. They both seemed very happy the next morning and so pleased with each other. So, she was rather surprised in her frequent meetings with Bluebeard that followed that he told her he had not seen Moonbeam but once since that night.

All of Goldie’s and Bluebeard’s friends seem to realize that the interest they had in each other was proper enough. Goldie was perfectly

clear in her conscience about seeing Bluebeard so frequently because she knew that there was nothingpossessive in the relationship.

One night they got to talking about Moonbeam.“How come,” Goldie asked, “you haven’t seen more of her?”

“I have been waiting for her to call me. After all, it is sort of up to the girl to take the initiative.”

“Yes, that’s true, especially after a boy hashad her once. But I would call her anyway. I’m curious as to what’s happened to her.”

“I will,” Bluebeard promised.“Two nights later, Bluebeard telephoned

Goldie. “I have a date with Moonbeam tomorrow night, and she wants you to have dinner with us. Can you?”

Goldie assured him that she could. The telephone call had come on one of the nights when Bruin was with her. She asked him if he had had a date with Moonbeam.

“Heavens no, Goldie. Haven’t I told you abouther? Moonbeam is as busy as the leaves in a wind. I thought that you must have heard her over the radio.”

“No, I’ve neglected the radio lately. Are they playing her up?”

“You and your Bluebeard have been so busy talking about dead people and their crazy ways that you don’t know what is going on in the world you live in. Of course, they are laying her up. You know United. We never lose an opportunity to make a fuss over a fellow Immortal. Any other excuse will do. They have released her from her

six years, you know.”“Really?”“Yes, sure. She’s in vaudeville, the Worm

Girl. I haven’t seen her act, but I’ve heard aboutit. She’s in a scene where the stage is blank. That is, it is an orchard scene. You know, all trees, with no one on the stage. It is silent, andthen you hear a wind. It rises and then suddenly from above, there drops to the stage with a soft plop a great big apple, a crimson, rosy apple. When it strikes the ground, it breaks open, and amid the white billows of meat is your Moonbeam.”

“A worm?”“A very lovely white worm, they tell me. She

does a crawling act, a sort of dance, I suppose, crawling to music. I presume the apple is cotton, and she crawls around in it. Perfume Pot, the girlwho was telling me all about it, says they had oneof those big mechanical dolls made up as a scientist. He moves toward her, and you think it is going to be old stuff, one of those worn-out rape scenes,55 but then the lights go out.”

“And?”“The next scene, he had her in his

laboratory. He had her under a big glass slab under a microscope and probes at her with big knives and pointed things. She giggles and squirms. I guess it is a mixture of novelty and sex appeal, a sort of tease performance.”

“Well, this is news!” Goldie exclaimed. So, Moonbeam is an actress, teasing you boys. By 55 Clarke frequently discussed rape situations in his fiction and fundraising, but without the word “rape.” This use in “Dr. Time” marks the only occasion I have come acrossit in his writing.

United, that’s something!”“You always were interested in her. She’s a

good egg at that. I was thinking the other day that when the excitement about her had died down abit, and she wasn’t so busy, I’d give her a ring and ask for another date.”

“I’ll tell her you want one.”Bruin shrugged. “All right. But you never can

tell. They may book her on the road. Her popularity may last, and she might tour the world.It sounds like a good act.”

“I think she will date you though, Bruin.”“I hope she does. You know how I feel,

though. I would rather have you.”“Now, Bruin darling, don’t start that again.”“Well,” Bruin murmured and drew her closer.Goldie sighed inwardly. Why was it that

lovemaking sometimes could be the perfect thrill at the end of the day and at other times be the irritating annoyance of the most boring and annoying of all pursuits?

Goldie had dinner with Moonbeam and Bluebeardthe next evening. It was Moonbeam’s night off. Like all entertainers who had to perform Sixthday,she had one free day in mid-week. Goldie noticed achange in Moonbeam from the moment she met her andBluebeard at the restaurant. There was an intensity about her mixed with some sort of make-believe artificiality. The very way Moonbeam kissed her in greeting was as if she had been practicing beforehand. Moonbeam had given off delight when she saw her, threw her arms around her, and hugged her with her body while her lips buried themselves in Goldie’s. There was an

efficiency about it that suggested that the schoolgirl she had just been had graduated from her course in sex technique.

Moonbeam led Goldie and Bluebeard to a table with her arms around both of them. “You know, Goldie, I asked Bluebeard to take me here because of the booths. One can hide in them. Being in the spotlight, you know —” She shrugged, half-apologetically and half in pride.

“I didn’t know about it,” Goldie said as theysat down, “until last night. Bruin and I were in bed together, and he told me about the marvelous things that had happened to you. He had not seen it but had heard about your act. I just haven’t been using the radio lately. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know, honestly, until he told you? And you didn’t either, Bluebeard.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading, and Goldieand I have been together so much. We are together two or three nights a week. Don’t get us wrong. There is nothing possessive about it. It isn’t even passion. We have both got an intellectual complex.”

“Oh, Goldie, I’m glad this happened. About you both not knowing, I mean. All this spotlight and the public shouting at me — Well, it’s turned my head a little, hasn’t it. I should know better,and I’m sorry.”

“I guess it must be hard to keep your balance,” Goldie said. My, I don’t know how I would feel if it happened to me.”

“I am sure, though,” Bluebeard interrupted, that Moonbeam is just a unit in the family, a partof our whole. She knows it is her duty to be an

entertainer and play upon the stage to amuse us all. But I know Moonbeam. She is just the same modest, sweet kid I slept with.”

“Thanks, Bluebeard. I hope I am. I know I am at heart. There is something artificial about being on the stage. If one does not watch, she carries the trappings and props into the real world. I should let myself run down when I come out of the theater and not make myself silly. But in my heart, I know that I am only one small line in a long play. But it is a peculiar line, and I’ll confess I love doing it.”

“Tell us all about it,” Goldie said.“Well, you are one of my public tonight,”

Moonbeam retorted.“I never thought I would conceive a passion

for a worm. But it is something to have your girl come to you crawling.”

“She wormed her way into his affections.” Moonbeam ran her finger across the tablecloth toward Bluebeard.

“I believe his acting has done something to you, Moonbeam,” Bluebeard said. “I believe it has given you new zest. Have you ever thought of the stage, Goldie?”

“I don’t believe I have much talent that way.About you, Moonbeam, have you thought about the future? They say it is hard to give up the show business when you once get the bug into you.”

“I’ve wondered.”“There is a fascination about the arts,”

Bluebeard said thoughtfully.56 “About the only 56 Clarke had an indirect connection with the theater. His wife served as the business manager and executive secretary for the Richmond Theatre Guild for several years after 1935.

problem in work assignment United has is that justmediocre talent wants to continue in its painting,music, and drama. The way it is hard after six years of it suddenly to shift to ordinary pursuits. And sometimes it is best for the common good that one should, I don’t mean that you haven’t talent, Moonbeam.”

“Frankly, Bluebeard, I haven’t. I can’t sign.I’m not a particularly good dancer. I am not a good actress. I know that my instructor is always telling me I must feel like a worm. He says, ‘a very charming, desirable worm but a worm, not Moonbeam crawling around dressed like one.’ I haveno illusions about myself. Still, even he tells methat right here in New York, with all our visitors, to say nothing about going out on the road, my act may go on for years and years.”

“That’s good when you like it so,” Goldie said. “And you are helping United, making us all happier by entertaining us. I am sure you are of more use to us than you would be in your old laboratory job.”

“I hope I am. Yes, I believe I am. But you forget the one thing that will put me out, my imitators.”

“You mean that they will put your act on in anumber of theaters with other girls?” Goldie asked.

“Not in New York for the present, but there is one starting in Buenos Aires next week and one in Constantinople. You see, it is only right that if the act amused, that many people should be given a chance to see it as want to.”

“That’s true. That will have to be done,”

Bluebeard said.“Sure, and there are plenty of girls with

real talent.”“I don’t know,” Goldie protested, “our

talents are pretty evenly divided. Civilization has evened us up. We are all pretty top-notch. Even acting, I’ve never been a professional, but at clubs, I’ve put on acts, like we all do, on thespur of the moment. Someone has said we are all geniuses with our scientific breeding and all.”

“You forget that singing is still a gift,” Bluebeard spoke thoughtfully. “For some reason, science has not been able to breed a perfect singing throat. Possessing one is still largely accidental.”

“It’s an accident that did not happen to me,”Moonbeam commented. “My voice is weak, and even over an amplifier, I am afraid it is flat.”

“Just so you don’t become too enamored of thetheater, Moonbeam,” Goldie looked across the tableat her fondly. “Enjoy it while you have it, but when duty calls you for some other service for United, you’ll be happy to give up entertaining, won’t you? I mean, if it works out that way.”

“Don’t worry, you kind head. I shall. Even when I do cease being a public entertainer, I can still put on a private show. I can still entertainmy boyfriends.”

“Yes, and that for any girl is the big thing,” Goldie answered. “We always know in Unitedwe’ll have that. We know that we’ll never grow old, fat, and ugly. And this acting business will be added zest for the boy you know a thousand years from now. They will still call you their

worm girl. But it’s getting late. You two needn’t get up. Have a good time. I leave you, Bluebeard, that you may go in the morning.”

“Bluebeard rose. “I’ll give you a ring, Goldie. Goodnight.” He kissed her.

“Goldie bent and kissed Moonbeam. “Have a good night, you two,” she called back to them as she made her way toward the exit.

Chapter 12

“It is too bad,” Goldie was thinking on her way home to her apartment, “Bruin can’t find a worm or something. Moonbeam’s problem seems solved, but mine isn’t. I feel like a girl in the unenlightened age who had to sell her kisses to a boy she did not like. Some of the poor things evenhad to marry the creatures and sleep with them every night instead of once every couple of weeks.But the weeks come around so fast. Maybe, I am an actress at that, too good a one, and my sighs of delight sound too convincing. But then I can’t hurt the poor boy’s feelings. And in ten days, I am to go to Sahara with him. I have managed to trim the vacation down to five days and nights. Why does there always have to be a night after a day? The days will be bad enough. His desire to bedifferent, his little mannerisms, like the way he looks across at me over the top of his coffee cup with his little finger sticking out from the others, makes me desperate. But that is in the daytime. At night, when he remembers that he had called himself after a bear and playfully growls, I could scream. United Damn! I’m in a bad humor. Ithink when I get home, I’ll dope.”

As she was about to step into the elevator togo up to her floor, Goldie heard her name called. She stepped back from the elevator and faced Margie

“Why, darling,” Goldie exclaimed. “Feeling different? I have not seen you since that time in the cafeteria. How’s my neighbor?”

“I’m in the dumps.”

“So am I, sort of, and for no reason.”“I have a reason.”Goldie hesitated. Did she feel like company?

She did not know, but maybe Margie did. “Won’t youcome up to my apartment for a while and tell me your reason?

“Yes, I would like to if you are sure you’re not just being duty kind.”

“Nonsense, come on.”“It isn’t much to tell really or be disturbed

about,” Margie said as the girls entered the apartment. I had a date with a boy I met a couple of weeks ago. We went to dinner, and it fell flat.We were both embarrassed. We both knew for some unexplainable reason we did not want to sleep together.”

“How in the world did you ever tell each other so?”

“Well, we knew it. We both could see we had ceased to be interested. The physical attraction we thought we had for each other when we met and dated just didn’t exist. I was with another boy then, or we would have gone together that night, Isuppose.”

“And you parted tonight after dinner?”“Yes, Saul stopped right in the middle of an

erotic story. ‘It’s no use, is it, Margie,’ he exclaimed, ‘we just aren’t interested in our plan for tonight.’”

“I think he did the sensible thing.”Margie nodded. “I said I didn’t know, but I

guessed we weren’t.”He said he did not know why we weren’t

either.

“Let’s call it off,” I said. So, we did, and we did without even the suggestion of a movie or anything else. And here I am. Only a civilization like ours could produce a situation like that.”

“Oh, well, Margie!”“I know. We were both perfectly nice to each

other, and we knew it was the sensible thing to do, but I hate it when it turns out that way.”

“Far better than to go through with it. It isbad enough when just one isn’t interested, but when both aren’t, it would not be decent.”

“But we are brought up to believe that love is such a sacred thing. To reject love after you have snapped your garter seems like the denial of a beautiful thing. It’s like thumbing your nose ata sunset. My conscience won’t feel right until I have a date with another boy.”

“Why didn’t you pick a boy up on the way home?”

“Goldie, I tried. If I had had a date on my arm, I would have run into a dozen free boys, but I’ll be damned if every boy I met wasn’t paired off with some girl like salt and pepper shakers. Where do boys keep themselves when they are celibate?”

“You could have gone to a club.”“I almost did, but I felt funny about going

alone. You always go with somebody. If I had thought about it in time, I could have gone to onewith Saul. That would have been a graceful way out. You always get separated. Or if I had met youon the street, I could have asked you to go to one.”

“We could still go.”

“Do you want to? No, I can see you don’t.”“To tell the truth, I was going to dope. But

I don’t mind going to one if you want. I haven’t been to one for a long time.”

“It was selfish of me to come up here and tell you my small troubles. I wouldn’t have, only you said you were below par yourself.”

“No, I’ve had him. I told you I had no reasonfor feeling blue.”

“I don’t believe you really want to go to a club. Be honest.”

“We Immortals are always trying to read one another to see what the other one wants to do. I am not just kind in offering to go, Margie. If I were sure you wanted to, but I’m not somehow.”

“Margie laughed, a little self-consciously. “I’ll admit I am, dear. I am wondering if it wouldbe agreeable.”

“What?”“I would like to stay with you tonight. We

could — well, dope if you like that.”Goldie raised questioning eyes to Margie. The

girl was playing with her garter, running her fingers through it, straightening it. Slowly she raised her eyes to meet Goldie’s. She stood up. “Let’s go to a club.”

Goldie shook her head. Want to listen to the radio for a while?” she asked brightly.

“No, unless you — ”Goldie stretched out her legs and, with her

toes, pushed off the pump on her right foot and then the one on her left. “Reach over and turn on the nightlight, will you, Margie?” she asked, her voice a little dry. She was provoked at herself

for feeling alright.The two girls parted after breakfast the next

morning. Margie indicated that she would give Goldie a ring in a few days.

Goldie nodded, “All right. I think I’ll take the plane this morning. How about you?”

“I can’t, Goldie, for ethical reasons. I’ve been using them too frequently of late. Good-bye, sweet, and look for a ring.

Three evenings later, Goldie was dated with Bluebeard. They talked shop during dinner and afterwards went directly to his apartment. There she asked about his date with Moonbeam.

“It was very amusing. Moonbeam did all her act for me in the apple and on the slab, so I wentto see it last night. I tried to see Moonbeam afterward to tell her that naturally, it tickled me.”

“Did you see her?”“Yes, but only for a minute. Backstage looked

like a reception was going on and mostly for Moonbeam. She certainly is in demand. She saw me standing around and came over to me, but we only talked for a couple of minutes. She was dated already and good-humoredly shaking her head at a couple of dozen engagement books held in eager hands.”

“It is swell for her.”“Would you like it, Goldie?”“Why, of course, any girl would.”“I don’t know, Goldie. I think you would give

dates when you did not want to because you would feel obligated to. I think you would soon wish that you were back in your present status and not

quite such public property.”“I don’t think you believe that I am very

passionate, Bluebeard.”“Don’t get that idea, honey, just because we

have so many other interests. Why, I think you areperfect. I am sure you have no reason to think other than that you are a perfectly normal girl that way. You are a credit to United.”

“Thanks. I hope I am. I — ” she spoke slowly.“I had a girlfriend spend the night with me here, after I left you and Moonbeam. She lives in the building, and we happened to meet at the elevator.”

“Did you have fun?”“Bluebeard, do you ask that in the same

matter-of-fact frame of mind as the tone of your voice would indicate?”

“Yes, Goldie. I am not morbid-minded. Certainly, you are not either.”

“It was just a novelty for me and for her, too, I suppose.” Goldie turned toward him and gazed earnestly and candidly at his face.

He gazed back into her eyes, kindly. “Goldie dear, nothing is wrong about sex save as one thinks it wrongly. Nature gave us our bodies to enjoy them. We should only be ashamed of being ashamed. The wrong is to let the taboos of yesterday linger with us. What is evil but the last dying gasps of the savage mind? That savage mind that filled his world with evil spirits. His eyes were so full of dirt that he could never see beauty. Evil is only fear, and Immortals don’t fear.”

“But there is still evil, Bluebeard. We still

have to watch that we do not commit wrong.”“The only thing that ever tempts us to do

wrong, Goldie, is fear. I am selfish toward somebody else because I fear for myself. You have a question in your mind about yourself and Marjorie. Analyze it and see it for the unworthy thing it is. You are not sure of yourself, of yourbody. You aren’t able to surrender it completely because you are fearful you are afraid, Goldie, and your fear makes what you did seem evil.”

Goldie did not immediately answer. She was thoughtful. “Yes, it isn’t that it is distasteful.I was afraid you would disapprove, afraid I would disapprove, afraid even Marjorie disapproves.”57

“There is nothing to disapprove of. It didn’thurt you. It didn’t hurt Marjorie. You got fun outof it. So what?” Your body is beautiful. I am surehers is.” His hand lifted her chin. “She should come to me bragging about it.”

“Can it be true,” Goldie asked, “that even yet, we love our chains a bit? Is emancipation toostrong a draught for us?”58

“As long as a thing does not injure. That is why liquor is down in the book of negative suggestions. Unlike our dope, the stimulation thatliquor gives has a bad after-effect. Even when it was drunk for taste alone, like a good wine, it did some slight injury. Wine never has really beenput among the negative suggestions, but strong liquor has.”

“We have no laws, but we do have suggestions.”57 This is an odd conversation, given United sexually liberated society.58 In context, a remarkable insight for Goldie.

“And the suggestions are followed more rigidly than laws could be. Laws used to be enforced by threats and punishments. United’s bookof suggestions is sanctioned by a higher motive — love of each other.”

“Love of each other — it’s so easy to say, Bluebeard, but it’s what makes United’s world go around.”

“Its worth is the final discovery of man. It has opened up a new world and made possible so many delights that the lack of trust and fear created by unkindness kept from the race. How anything that is not harmful to the body and mind is ours.”

“It is not only that liquor is bad for the stomach, but it also clouds the truth. Drugged with liquor, your mind is diseased. I think too much of my mind to want that.”

“How about dope, though?”“That’s a good point. But, of course, dope

does not have the bad after-effects, for one thing. Then we dope lying flat on our backs. It’s more like dreaming. People used to get drunk in public and get sick. It is hard to define the differences, but I believe there is one.”59

“I don’t think I would want to get drunk. Bluebeard. It is an old question, but I often wonder about it. Do you think that our having somemany pleasures and with pain practically gone out 59 “Doctor Time” had a fascinating take on intoxicants. His characters spent many enjoyable hours in hazy opium mists and smoke available in every apartment. Through his contactsin China, Clarke had every reason to understand the scourge of opiate addiction, yet United’s citizens suffered no ill effects. See, e.g., “Sino-Japanese Cooperation in the Opium Trade,” China News 2 (Summer 1944): 4.

of existence that the race has lost something?”“I don’t suppose that the race is as brave as

it used to be. It has always seemed an astounding thing that in times of war in those days, men volunteered to fight. They joined the air forces knowing that they would probably be killed. Quite wonderful that.”

“Yes, but if some enemy from another planet should come to earth and you knew they planned to take away from us all that we enjoy and hold dear,I imagine you would volunteer, too.”

“I hope I would. I think some of their bravery was lack of imagination.”

“Yes. Then, too, they did not have a whole lot to live for, and they were used to the idea ofdeath. They knew that they had to meet that sooneror later, anyway.”

“Poor devils, Goldie. How horrible their lives must have been. They had so few pleasures. Even a lot they could have had they foolishly denied themselves. And they weren’t well. They hadstomachaches, headaches. Their bones complained, and their livers turned green. They knew that every day, they would grow worse. That is, they would grow older and have less strength. But it wasn’t only their physical troubles. They lived incompetition with one another with the rottenest kind of distribution and sharing of the earth’s goodies. The struggle to live was so pitiless thatevery man was his fellow’s enemy. They camouflagedthe way they were forced to live by their religion, but the stark reality was that they had to be beasts.”

“Even their leaders, Bluebeard, go themselves

elected by telling all kinds of lies about their opponents and themselves. They made all kinds of promises that they had no intention of keeping. I’ve often wondered what was the worse: the lying,cheating, and hypocrisy they practiced to earn thebread they put in their bellies or the quality of the bread after they had earned it by such means.”

“They actually considered first the cost of the materials they put into their food. The taste was a secondary matter. It seems hard to believe, but I understand, Goldie, they often used lard instead of butter because it was cheaper. Now anybody knows that for most anything good, rich butter is better than lard. To make something lessbecause it is cheaper — ” Bluebeard shook his head.

“But they always advertised their things to be the best.”

“Oh, sure, the liars!”“That’s what I mean — the bread they ate, the

rewards they won for being more successful liars and cheats than their neighbors. United Damn! Bluebeard, they were as limited in their pleasuresas a stone phallus.”

“You have visited that reproduction of an oldamusement park they have down below Cape May.”

“Yes. They say it is an authentic reproduction of the best they had in those days. It’s pitiful, the poverty-stricken creatures.”

“Just a few slides, and the crudest kind of an Old Mill, and a round thing they called a merry-go-round with the most United awful music, and it does nothing but go around. No rough houses, no flying cages, no slides like we have

with a bunch of soft, warm girls bumping into you and grabbing at you. And if you wanted sex, you married one girl and weren’t supposed to have any curiosity or desire for any other. Now I ask you, is that sane? What people!”

“I suppose that is the reason they could go on living when they knew all the time they were dying. There wasn’t much to live for, and I guess you didn’t dare value your life very much when youknew you were going to lose it. I guess maybe the monkeys had it over them, for maybe they did not know that they were going to die.”

“Yet, Goldie, sometimes you can’t help but admire them. The way they went on with death at the end of their road. Yet, they tried to take themountain roads. They had their dreams. You take speeches that men like Churchill and Roosevelt made just before the end. They were brave and pretty magnificent. They had what they called charities in those days. People gave voluntarily to others, and they had societies to help education and advancement and improvement of social conditions. They had a form of immortality through their children. They did love their children. Of course, now we feel that we love every fellow human being just as much as they loved a few that were close to them.”60

“Perhaps, if I knew that I had to die, I would want to be a mother and leave that bit of meafter I was gone. At that, maybe we Immortals

60 There were only a few favorable words scattered throughout the manuscript for unenlightened times. Here, Clarke is paying homage to his own charity work and to all those who lovingly contributed money and even their lives tohis work.

shall die, too. We may not succeed in finding another suitable planet for another circle of a million years for the race to be happy on.”

“They say every woman has a latent complex tobe a mother. Is that true, Goldie?”

“Why, I think to be a mother would be an awful thing. I would be ashamed to face my child. Yet, for United to choose a girl to be a professional mother is considered a great honor outside of the fact that it is a badge of physicaland mental near perfection. To have another creature living in you and after it is born to have it draw life from your breasts. I guess I am not very clean-minded to think such things. Strange, there is something — something beautiful to that.”

“I can’t say I see how.”“You are a man and wouldn’t understand. Yet,

it might be yours, too.”“Goldie, think what you are saying. Mine! All

children are mine. They belong to me even as I belong to them. It’s possessive. Forgive me. That is a horrible thing to accuse a sweet girl like you of being.”

“I deserve it. I am indelicate. I am afraid Idid not sound very — very clean. You must not likeme.”

“Goldie darling, I do so like you. You are perfectly normal and decent. See, I am starting tomake love to you, so you know I believe that. You’re soft and warm like a pumpkin in the sun. You’re an adorable, blessed United girl!”

Chapter 13

At Montauk Point,61 Goldie felt her first thrill of anticipation. The great white flying bird stimulated her sluggish interest in her vacation trip to Sahara with Bruin. The plane was too impressive, too suggestive of a trip beyond the ordinary for her to remain indifferent. She had been too busy to look over the printed prospectus of this vacation trip, one of the thousands devised by United to give pleasure to Immortals. She had left all the details to Bruin. A half-hour before, she had met him on the expressstation of the Long Island subways.

They were both early, and in the ten-minute wait for their ship-train which went directly to the Sahara Flying Bird, he had shown her the prospectus to the vacation trip. Her interest was pretended. She practiced the feminine trick of a lifted eyebrow and a little “un-un,” and she did not think he realized that his enthusiasm left hercold. She wondered at her own nostalgia. It was more than that. She very definitely was wishing that she was saying goodbye to him with the trip over rather than hello with it just beginning.

The first view of the great ship, however, gave birth to an interest and anticipation. Walking toward it at Montauk from the subway station, she asked him, “How many passengers does she carry, dear?”

Why, I told you, Goldie, on the platform. Don’t you remember? Three thousand and a crew of

61 Montauk Point is the eastern-most extremity of the South Fork of Long Island and thus also of New York State.

eight hundred. It’s very complete with a movie anda theater and a dance hall and a rough house. Why,it even has a museum. Don’t you remember in the papers and on the radio about that fellow who was supposed to have come back from Sahara and how he booked himself for a lecture on it in one of the churches? That he had it announced that he had important information to divulge?”

“Important information? Why no. How long ago was that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Not so long, a hundred years ago maybe, I guess. I remember I was workingon water reclamation at the time. We had to go through fire to get to work. We were tapping an underground river six miles below the surface under Death Valley.”

“Well, what was this important information?”Bruin laughed. “That fellow was a card. Wait

until we get settled on board, and I’ll tell you.”They were at the head of the gangplank, and

Bruin stopped to identify Goldie and himself to the officer there.

Goldie smiled at the officer and felt the armof his paper jacket. “I haven’t worn a paper dressin a long time.”

“We advise all passengers to wear them. The ship’s heat is increased to typical Sahara temperature. You’ll spend most of your time there outdoors, and it is hotter than mythical hell. We get you used to it.”

“But I haven’t any paper clothes except the panties and brassieres I have on.”

“You’ll find clothes in your stateroom. Your lover sent your measurements?” He turned

inquiringly to Bruin.“Sure. Goldie’s average plus.“I’m one inch taller than average, nude

without my shoes,” Goldie volunteered.“And United pretty, too, I’m certain.” The

officer smiled. “Your stateroom is 7088. May you both have a different trip.”

“Seventh floor. Let’s find the elevator, Bruin.”

They found their stateroom without difficulty.

“I wouldn’t know it from my apartment,” Goldie said, going over toward the shower. “Yes, it has a dust shoot, laundry shoot, water closet, everything.”

“What did you expect, a pile of sand and a camel?”

“Four dresses, two evening and two sports. One of the sports has pants. Do you like me in pants, Bruin?”

“I like you in anything. Better put them on. The travel folder said it was recommended that passengers don paper upon arrival on shipboard.”

“OK,” Goldie answered. “We’ll change, and then I am anxious to see the ship. We’ll have timeto go all over it before lunch.” She pulled the zipper to her dress.

“By that time, we will be in mid-Atlantic, I suppose,” Bruin said, his eyes glued on her.

Goldie’s mind was on the ship as she hung herdress in the clothes closet. She turned around to see Bruin still standing in the center of the room. “You aren’t getting undressed,” she remindedhim.

“That won’t take but a second,” he answered, tossing his things off.

“My, you’re untidy, Bruin. Why aren’t you neat like I am? Here, hand me your underthings. I’ll put them in the waste slot with mine.” She reached for them.

Bruin handed them to her, and then his arms closed about her.

“Oh, Bruin, I want to see the ship.”He immediately released her. She gave him a

surprised look. “Why, boy, you look hurt. I’m so sorry. I guess I was thoughtless.”

“It’s all right.”“No, it isn’t. Come here, you silly.”He picked up his shoes. She took them out of

his hands. “I am very sorry I was unkind, Bruin. Please forgive me.”

“It’s only that I have been looking forward to this trip for a long time, Goldie. I know that you don’t approve of the way I feel toward you.”

“But, Bruin, there was a perfectly proper gesture you made. It was entirely physical. It is manly and fine for you to feel that way. If you want me in the middle of the day, I am complimented.” She pushed herself into his arms.

He held her, and she grinned at him. “I can be the aggressor, you know. I am a regular hellcat. Like that?

He could not resist her, but she continued toplay the role of aggressor. Inwardly she felt guilty. She had hurt his feelings by her indifference. He had been looking forward to the vacation. He had made an amorous move toward her, and she had discouraged it. What would her

teachers think of her, those patient teachers who had drilled into her when she was a child the propriety and ethical necessity of enthusiastic response to every man’s physical desire for her? She should be ashamed. A girl couldn’t very well hold her head high if she acted indifferent just because she was tired of a boy. Besides, Bruin’s lovemaking should be encouraged. It was only his possessive feeling toward her that was wrong. So, she acted very eager. She hoped that she was fooling him. He acted as though she was succeeding. She was glad for that, and her conscience was relieved.

Goldie was delighted with the ship. Of course, as soon as it was started, it was sealed up. Except for the observation room up forward, there were no windows or portholes on the ship. There was no way of telling what the weather was like outside. They were probably very high up, andthe temperature outside was without doubt way below zero. They were in a steel tomb, shut up in a world of their own. But it was a pleasant world full of passengers concerned only with having a good time. Although it was still morning, the passengers acted as if it were afternoon. They were relaxed, for there was no six hours of work for United to be done here. The very expression ofthe faces of Immortals was different after two o’clock. Goldie had often thought that all of us are adults in the morning and children all the rest of the twenty-four hours.

There was every convenience aboard the ship that Goldie would have had at home. Yet, the builders had made some attempt to create the

atmosphere of a ship. The murals on the walls wereall of air scenes. Goldie wanted to linger before some of the painted walls, but Bruin was the sort who would have visited an art gallery on roller skates.

Goldie got a good deal out of pictures. She agreed with what Bluebeard had once said about an artist getting something into a picture that even a fourth-dimension camera could not. “Something that probably isn’t there,” Bluebeard had commented, “but at least it is in the painter’s mind.”

Goldie once had thought of giving six years to painting, but her test showed a grading of lessthan the proper percent of latent ability, so she gave the idea up. Most painting, she knew, was done in the usual six years, but a few were giftedenough so that their terms were renewed every six years, and they kept on turning out their dreams in paint.

They visited the swimming pool, peeked in at a show which was going on in the music hall, passed the entrance of the museum but did not stopas Bruin kept right on. Then in the dance hall, their inspection ceased, at least temporarily. Thehall was being used by roller skaters at the time,and Bruin wanted to skate.

Goldie would have preferred to finish the inspection of the ship first, but she pretended toBruin that his choice coincided with her own. She found that she did enjoy having skates on again. There was something about roller skating that she enjoyed even more than being on the ice. There wasa sort of earthiness about it that she did not get

on the ice. She and Bruin skated together at first. Then the master of ceremonies announced a square dance. Goldie had often done it before on skates, and it was fun. When the square dance was finished, other games were spontaneously started. They were mostly chase and catch games, such as prisoner’s base and lamb and wolves. Goldie would permit herself to be chased until she became tired. Then she would be caught and kissed, and break away to be chased by another boy. None of the boys asked for a date. It was generally accepted on vacations that a girl and her lover wanted to reserve themselves for each other. She supposed it would be different on the return trip.

Bruin chased and caught her once, but there were several hundred skaters, and even if he had wanted, he could not have monopolized her. Once, she flew past him, just as he had caught a girl and was pulling her into his arms to kiss her. Goldie permitted her pursuer to catch her, returned his kiss, and then shook her head at another boy. She skated slowly to the exit and removed her skates. She wanted to visit the museum.

The museum was devoted to exhibits of Sahara.It was very informative for one on their way to visit that great granary. Goldie’s mind went to Bluebeard. He was always so interested in finding out about things. She became engrossed in a replica of a cornfield. It was complete with its irrigation arrangements, fertilizer sprays, and all. She felt an arm closing about her waist. She spoke without turning, “Feeling different, Bruin?”

“I couldn’t find you, and I guessed you would

be here. That reminds me of that chap I was telling you about who gave the lecture on Sahara.”

“Oh, yes, what about him?”“Well, he gave a good lecture on Sahara but

nothing startling. Everybody wondered why he had asked for a church. It was a lecture any well-informed person on Sahara could have given.”

“Yes, what was the O’Henry ending?”“O’Henry?”“You wouldn’t know, but he was the author of

short stories back in the unenlightened days.”“Oh! He finished his lecture, and stopped,

and then began talking about Montauk Point, the Flying Fish, and this museum. He had never been toSahara. He had picked up all that information right here in the museum.”

“It sounds like a United effort to be different.” Goldie spoke without enthusiasm.”

“That isn’t exactly all to the story. He spent his next six years at Sahara, and one of thestandard texts used in agriculture today is written by him.”

“Really? That is fine. He attempts to entertain, and he ends really contributing something to United’s culture. When do we arrive in Sahara?”

“Don’t you know? I guess you haven’t been looking forward to the trip like I have. We get inlate tonight sometime, but, of course, we don’t get off until morning.”

“I often don’t look up things purposely. I like to be surprised. I always know that United will take care of me. The future is always pleasant. You know you’ll have everything you

want, food, games and entertainment, dope, and love. It is nice to drift from one nice thing to another without being too sure what it’s to be.” She studied him without showing it. “But it is wonderful being with you on our vacation.”

“I wish I were sure of that, Goldie.”“What boy you are for looking behind the

scenery. Here I am for your enjoyment. Must you stick a thermometer between my lips to see if theyare really warm?”

“I wish I could be more sure of you. I felt awhile ago that your passion was more good manners than ecstasy.”

“Bruin, you’re insulting.”“I don’t mean to be.”“But you are. You know a girl would rather a

man would think almost anything about her than that she was cold. I’m not either. When I was a child, I got good grades in the erotic course. My teachers complimented me on being so apt at it. And naturally, I have always taken pride in my ability to please men.

“That’s it. You studied to please me. It wasn’t spontaneous.”

“Is that so? I thought you acted quite spontaneous yourself. Why, Bruin, we are actually quarreling. That is a very bad thing to Immortals,quarreling. May United forgive us.”

“I am sorry.”“At least it was over the physical

relationship. As long as we keep our friendship onthat high basis and not get possessive. But we didalmost quarrel,” she added soberly. “Brother Immortal, I apologize.”

“Sister Immortal, I ask your forgiveness,” heanswered soberly.

She smiled at their formal acknowledgment of their guilt. They both had spoken as they had beentaught when children. He smiled back at her. She glanced at her wristwatch.” It’s almost two, and that means lunch.”

“Cafeteria? he asked.“Yes, but let’s dress for dinner and spend

the evening eating, dancing, and watching the floor show. The early evening,” she added, giving his arm a squeeze. During lunch, she tried to keepher mind off her failure in their room that morning. She must do better later. It was her dutyto please all men who wanted her. That was such animportant part of United’s plan for happiness. Andshe had her pride. What girl would want any man tofeel that she was deficient and ethically negligent? How insipid and boorish!”

The rest of the day passed agreeably enough, except for the regulated heat. Goldie wondered if it would not have been better to have kept the ship at the normal temperature Immortals were usedto rather than to prepare them for the expected heat of the desert. But then, United knew best from experience. Besides, it was not too hot.

After their luncheon, they finished their inspection of the ship. They went to the store to see if there was anything they could find as a souvenir of the trip. Goldie even wondered about agift for Bluebeard. She decided against it. After all, gifts were rather foolish. One always gave something the friend already had. Nor could she find in all the display of goods anything new and

different that she wanted for herself. She shook her head at the clerk, who was watching her somewhat anxiously.

“When you came in, darling,” the clerk said, “I thought you would choose something, I really did. You know,” he spoke ruefully, “no one has taken anything all day. You could not use a package of chewing gum, could you? It is the new dissolving kind.”

“Why, yes, I could.”“What flavor?” he asked eagerly, leading her

over to the counter.“Roast beef.”“I like that too. It tastes just like you

spooned the juice from the platter of some prime ribs. You know I like to soak my bread in it. The juice, I mean.”

“I’ll bet you dunk your doughnuts in your coffee, too.”

“They are fine for breakfast. Couldn’t we gettogether sometime?”

“Now, behave. I’m vacationing with Bruin here.”

“I know you forgive me, Bruin, for my compliment to your good taste. She’s a might nice number. It will be my good fortune if you two comeback on this ship. Then — ” he smiled at Goldie.

“Thank you, dear Bruin, don’t you want some gum?”

“No, I can take one of your sticks.”“Well, I guess you are right, Bruin,” the

clerk remarked. “One should not be wasteful. And Imade a gift, my first for the day. Thanks a lot, Goldie, for taking the gum. Thanks to you both of

you lovers.”Goldie waved goodbye to the clerk, and as

they passed out of the store, she remarked to Bruin, “He’s a nice, polite boy. I like him.”

Bruin reached for a stick of gum without answering. From the store, they went to the observation room in the bow of the ship. But therewas nothing to be seen through the reinforced glass, which was as strong as steel. They were wayup in the heavens with only empty space about them.

Sahara was wonderful, just as Goldie was surethat it would be. Of course, they took a sightseeing bus, but the distances were so great. The fields given over to the different crops were endless in their monotonous, perfect rows. A cornfield, twenty-five miles wide and fifty long with every row as straight as an engineer’s line. Miles of beets instead of acres. Endless low forests of peach trees. “There is enough piping, their lecturer told them, carrying water and chemicals for fertilization to completely bury theState of Rhode Island.

The one bus trip was sufficient for both Bruin and Goldie. Of course, there were plenty of less serious amusements in Sahara. All of the amusements they were used to in New York were there. The afternoons and evenings were about the same as they would have been in New York. But after the first-morning bus ride, Goldie felt somewhat at a loss. She wished that she were back in her office and apartment in New York.

Goldie remembered what Bluebeard had once said to her, remarking about vacations. “Immortals

don’t need them. Every afternoon can be a vacation. Besides, we aren’t like the poor barbarians used to be. They were sickly and often overworked. They needed rest. Their poor aching bodies needed a letup from the monotonous grind oftheir eight-hour and even longer workdays. They had to crowd into their vacations all the pleasures they could get. I guess they didn’t haveenough of their money to indulge in some of the pleasures very often. Not every day as we can.”

“Yes,” Goldie remembered she had answered him, “after all, vacations are really only good for one thing. Occasionally you meet a new lover who is so fresh and different to you that you feelthat you don’t want your experience to be broken into by your work hours. Not even weekends are enough. A vacation is silly unless it is for one of those rare love affairs.”

Goldie remembered this conversation with Bluebeard as she was in Bruin’s constant company. She knew that she was very tired of Bruin, but shewas determined not to show it. She urged him to their room earlier than she wanted. She lingered in the room later in the mornings than she wanted.

There was one diversion in Sahara that was different. No vacationist would have dreamed of returning home without participating in it. Studying the world’s greatest granary might increase one’s knowledge, but one knew so much anyway.

She wondered when Bruin would suggest this diversion for which Sahara was famous. She really knew why he was slow about suggesting it, but she did not intend on hurrying him into it. She did

tell him, however, that she preferred acting sillyin some rough house than acting sensible and grownup listening to statistics about the cultivation of cabbages.

“I’m surprised to hear it. I thought you and Bluebeard thought them very exciting.”

“Not exciting, Mr. Knowledge is very cautious, slow, and heavy moving. You can take your time in answering his knock. Entertainment isa spry and restless knave, and when he knocks on your door, you had better answer him quickly before he is away on his dancing feet. He is easier to be profound than witty. Anybody can be profound who is patient enough, but wit is exclusive.”

“That is a very profound observation, I should say. I don’t think that we Immortals are over-troubled about the serious things of life. I notice that we are about the only ones left that came on our ship. The others are already over in the desert.”

Now, Goldie thought, he is going to suggest our going. But he did not.

Chapter 14

Beyond the granaries, a part of Sahara had been left primitive, a great dry sea of sand. It was a recreation park where Immortals had an opportunity to sample life somewhat as it was before the day of refinements.

It was the night before their last in Sahara when Bruin brought up, at last, their going to theprimitive section. “I guess you think I’ve been slow about asking if you wanted to go,” he said apologetically.

“No,” Goldie replied in denial, remembering one of the articles in the United’s Suggestions Code, that a lie was always justified in lovemaking, “The trip has just been between us twophysically. But, of course, it would be funny to leave Sahara without taking in the chief attraction.”

“Of course,” Bruin agreed. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

After breakfast the following morning, they registered with one of the groups of sixty. They flew over the vast cultivated fields and landed. Here the country had been left as it had been for thousands of years. Goldie and Bruin separated to put on garments that had been worn by desert tribes for so many centuries.

In the woman’s room, Goldie and twenty-nine others stripped and took the usual shower. Goldie thought as she turned on the drier that Immortals were always taking showers. Cleanliness was Unitedness. She could only find one perfume switch. That was pretty primitive, but the scent

was pungent and unfamiliar. She came out from the shower feeling that waves of heady sweat were rolling off from her body. On one side of the roomwere a row of dresses, all alike. She donned the creation with its voluminous skirt. One of the girls announced to no one in particular and everyone in general, “It will take my boy a week to find me under all this stuff.”

An attendant came over to Goldie and adjusteda veil which hid the face so that she knew that Bruin would never be able to recognize her. All the other girls were being disguised in the same way. The attendant called attention to a sign posted in the room. It contained a United Suggestion. The government never called one of itssuggestions a law or even a rule. Yet, no Immortalwould have dreamed of disregarding one. The suggestion urged that no vacationist divulge her identity to her lover or any other.

Goldie smiled beneath her veil. She knew thatBruin would try very hard to discover her. Her smile deepened as she looked over her companions. Immortals differed very little in height. Most menwere exactly six foot in height, and most girls a half-foot shorter. Girls did differ a little more from one another in height than men, but only a few inches one way or the other. The weight only varied a few pounds. Dressed in flowing gowns all alike and with identical turbans covering their hair, it would be very hard for any boy to know who was who.

The girls moved around among one another, laughing at their likeness. The veils even shadowed their eyes so that it was a little hard

to discern their color. Their hands differed slightly, but no matter how often their lovers hadheld them during the last hundred or so hours, it would be a clever boy who would be able to remember them.

“Is my voice any different than yours?” a girl near Goldie asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t believe it is. We aren’t very different, are we? We all have that Harvard-Oxford perfect English. For all we try to be different to please our boys, we are all just the garden variety of peas in one huge United pod.”62

“My name is Lotus Blossom.”“Mine’s Goldie. I hope you are different.”

She kissed the other girl and then laughed. “It certainly is just a polite phrase for you certainly aren’t any different, dear, than the others here.

“The men don’t wear veils, you know. It is going to be fun to watch my poor Atlas trying to find me.”

“No cheating, girls,” one of the attendants warned good-naturedly. “Now you’re all ready. Go out in a bunch and see who picks you. He won’t have you long anyway.”

“What do you mean, ‘Won’t have me long?’” Lotus Blossom asked. “Doesn’t the boy who picks mesleep with me tonight?”62 Clarke was likely describing a niqab or possibly a burka.Either includes the idea of making one woman indistinguishable from another. Did Clarke consciously mean this as a metaphor for the sameness of United’s life? Goldierealized that reality, “We aren’t very different, are we? . . . we are all just the garden variety of peas in one huge United pod.” This reality did not bother her much.

“Now, darling, don’t be possessive,” the attendant gave Lotus Blossom a little squeeze. Remember, you girls who know each other’s names, you mustn’t speak them. Now move, children. Get out.”

Goldie stepped out into the sunshine. There they were, all thirty boys standing expectantly infront of the girl’s dressing room entrance. Bruin was in the center of the group. His eyes were traveling over the girls. His expression was very intense and serious, but then he seemed to have made up his mind and came straight in the direction of Goldie.

How in the world did he recognize her? He spoke just before reaching her. “Hello, Goldie,” he said, and his voice sounded confident.

Goldie wondered whether she should give up and congratulate him on knowing her and asking howhe did it when she realized that he was addressingthe girl next to her.

“Since when has my name been Goldie?” the girl next to Goldie asked.

“Don’t kid me. You are.”“Are you very sure of it?” the girl

questioned.“N-o. No, I am pretty sure now you aren’t. I

thought if you were, I would bluff you that I was sure. You might be, though, at that.” He ran his hands over her.

“Seem familiar?” the girl teased.“If you are, I’ll never forgive you or myself

or something.” He turned from her to Goldie. But another boy had taken Goldie by the arm and was leading her off.

“You thought you could fool me, didn’t you, Brownie,” the boy said.

“I didn’t know,” Goldie answered.“Say that again.”“I didn’t know,” she repeated.“I’ll be darned if I know whether you are or

not. You have the same eyes. You could be. SupposeI had a veil on. Could you tell me from your lover?”

“It would depend upon whether he had a veil on. But if you mean your voice, no. I could from your conversation.”

“That is a way to find out. I’ll keep on talking to you about the trip over and the things Brownie and I did together, and sooner or later, you will betray yourself.”

“You really want to get your girl back, don’tyou?”

“Cheer up, if you haven’t her now, and maybe you have, at least you’ll have her tomorrow night on the way home.”

“Listen, you are Brownie. It is our last night here.”

“Don’t be too sure, dear. What’s your name? Don’t you want to look over some of the other girls?”

“I like you.”“Then I’ll stick by you. If you’re not

Brownie, you could be. My name is Franklin. I chose my name after the name of that president they had in the last world war.”

“You admire him? I do too.”“I think he was quite civilized. The name is

Franklin. What’s yours?”

“How casually you ask, Franklin, but I’m not that absent-minded. Look at the camels.”

“Holy smoke, it’s a big caravan. We start forthe camp now, I suppose. I guess I’ll have to callyou X. Here comes the attendant. Can’t I get on the same camel with her, friend?”

“Sorry, the camels had a meeting and voted against it. One passenger, one camel, is the suggestion. Climb up here, girl. Now she is going to rise. Your hands belong here, and your breakfast in your stomach.”

“Good United!” Goldie called down. “How are you all down there? The clouds are getting into myeyes.”

“Franklin looked up at him and shook his head. “You’re not Brownie,” he murmured.

Goldie watched him as he climbed onto a cameland was hoisted up. When I yelled, I betrayed myself, she thought. Somehow his Brownie would have done it differently. He knows I’m not her. “I’ve probably lost him. He’ll look over the others trying to find her. It’s too bad. I was beginning to want him. Oh, well, that means one ofthe other boys will go smelling around me. Gee, that’s the reason there was only one perfume switch in the shower. By United! We all smell alike. Dear United always thinks of everything!

The caravan started. At first, Goldie’s entire thought was to keep with her camel, but after a while, she became more accustomed to the motion and took the courage to look about. The caravan was in single file. With the guides and all, there were over sixty of them. Every camel had a bell hanging from its neck, and the bells

were of different tones. They gave forth sweet music on the still desert air. The heat was intense, and Goldie was wet beneath her robes. Yet, she was glad for them. She felt that without them, the sun would be scorching.

She rode along, thinking how primitive it allwas. People used to travel like this. And there were not a lot of games and amusements waiting forthem at the end of the journey either. They probably did not know how to play. This heat was bad, but she understood the desert cooled off at night. What did the attendant mean that Lotus Blossom would not have her new lover long? Some crazy surprise that United had for everybody in camp.

The journey was shorter than Goldie had expected, probably less than an hour. Quite long enough, though, she decided when her camel stoppedand knelt for her to dismount.

On the ground, she looked around, and an exclamation of delight escaped her. In a circle about an oasis with green palms leaning gracefullyover and beside a little blue lake were a number of colored tents or pavilions. She saw Franklin. He was talking to another girl. Not far from him was Bruin walking toward one of the tents with a girl. She wondered if he thought the girl was she.Probably he was not sure and was still trying to find out. The girl would enjoy keeping him guessing. As no man came after her, Goldie moved over to one of the tents. She stepped inside.

Spread on the clean white sand were oriental rugs. Toward the back of the tent, which was fairly large, was a low, wide divan or raised

place. It was covered with animal skins. She went over and felt it. The skins gave gently under her hand. It was not so primitive, after all. There was an air mattress under the skins. But it lookedprimitive and oriental. She sat down and looked toward the entrance. Would a sheik stalk in? None did, and she got up and walked to the entrance.

Stepping outside, she met Franklin. “So, it’syou. Didn’t you find her?”

“No, and I let a boy have the girl I was talking to. Took a chance I might find you unattached. I wonder who has Brownie? All the others are paired off now.”

“Meaning, I am forced to accept you.”“May I enter your tent, Fatima?”“I don’t think you do it right. A sheik

should knock a girl down and then drag her by the hair of her head to her fate.”

“I would rather carry you off by being a verypolite sheik. You see, I was educated in England.”He reached his arm under her knees and lifted her.

“Am I very heavy, Franklin?” she asked as he carried her over to the divan.

“Not too heavy,” he answered, setting her down and seating himself beside her. “What do we do now, do you know?”

“I was wondering. I don’t imagine that Unitedexpects us to make love before luncheon.”

“No, unfortunately. Oh, hello,” Franklin addressed a guide who stood at the entrance of thetent.

“The suggestion is,” the guide said, “that all boys are to meet outside. Girls remain in the tents.”

“It looks as if we part for a time, Fatima, but I hope not for good.”

“What about Brownie?”“Brownie, she’s a great duckling. I must find

her. But I am dying to remove that veil of yours. Will you date me in New York? I imagine you live there, too. That is if this parting is bitter sorrow, and our guide friend here is determined tokeep us apart.”

“It is in the hands of Allah,” the guide saidsolemnly.

“How about the date, Fatima?” Franklin lookedback from the tent exit.

“We’ll be on the same ship going back, and ifyou think you like me when you can really see me, it’s okay by me.”

“Swell!” He waved her a kiss and left.Goldie went back to the divan. She sat on it

and waited. Nothing happened. She got up and investigated the tent. “What a dump,” she reflected aloud, “not a radio, not a movie, not a smoke switch, not even a book. What’s little Fatima to do, take a nap?” She jumped onto the divan. She stretched out flat on her back. It was hot. Out of the sun, she could not appreciate her flowing robes. She lifted her skirts and fanned her legs with them. She had pretty legs. All girlsdid, but then she had been told by hundreds of menthat hers were unusually so. She thought about thegirl’s legs she had seen in dressing rooms and on the beaches. Hers were rather more boyish than some, with rakish lines. Her hips, too, were small. One boy had told her he liked rears built like pears instead of pumpkins.

She lifted one of her feet. A baby could put its toes into its mouth. She tried it but was not quite able to make it. Still, she was agile enough. All those massage machines she used in various gymnasiums from time to time. A person really ought to use them more often, though. Abouttwice a week was right. There were machines that gently spanked you and machines that rubbed you all over and played patty-cake on you. Massage wassuch a sensible way of deriving the same benefits that exercise would give. Some people actually liked exercise. Boys especially, and they had to deny themselves for too much muscle was unbecoming. It made them thick, and the vogue was all for trimness. You liked to think that your lover was strong, but you did not want him to be bumpy or to have shoulders like a gorilla.

Goldie examined the two toes that showed in each of the sandals that she had put on in the dressing room. The girls had all been told to discard their stockings there. Goldie took as goodcare of her toes as she did her fingers. She nevercut her nails and always filed them. She kept thempolished. She understood that among primitives, toes were often very ugly. Sometimes, even young girls had in those days some queer ugly growths that were called bunions or corns. How in the world did lovers kiss toes like that?

Goldie’s meditations were interrupted by the sound of melodious ringing bells. She pushed her skirt down and got up. Moving toward the entrance of her tent, the bells ceased, and a voice from somewhere announced, “Luncheon is being served in the largest tent.” Goldie stepped out into the

sun.Two other girls joined her as she started

toward what appeared to be the largest tent. Girlswere emerging from other tents. “Where are all theboys?” one of the two girls with Goldie asked.

“I imagine they are in the big tent,” Goldie answered, “and when we step into it, they will pounce on us or something.”

“I could do with a big, long drink,” the second girl announced. “It’s so hot. I’m as wet asa fist under their clothes.”

Goldie entered the large tent warily. She expected some trick to be played on her. But none was, and there was not a boy in sight. The interior of the tent surprised Goldie. There were no tables and no chairs. Rugs were arranged in a big circle around a huge pot. From the pot, the rich smell of food was wafted to Goldie’s pert nose.

Goldie milled around the ten, joining her questions to those of the other girls. “Where werethe attendants? Who was to serve the lunch? What was in the pot? It smelled good but —

Lotus Blossom was standing beside Goldie, peering into the pot with her. “Here’re plates andspoons,” she cried. We serve ourselves, that’s certain.”

“Yes,” Goldie assented. “What’s this?” She lifted a lid she had not noticed before because itwas almost on a level with the sand. A draft of cool, damp air assailed her. “Good! It’s ice cream.”

“And here’s some kind of drink,” another girlexclaimed, lifting a lid.

“The glasses are here.” A girl lifted out onefrom a container sunk in the sand. She rubbed the glass over her face. “It’s chilled. My. It feels good.” She reached over to Goldie and pressed the glass on her temple.

“Thanks,” Goldie said. “Fill it up with that stuff, will you? I can’t reach it for Lotus Blossom’s chasse’s (?) being in my way.

“Don’t mind me, kid,” Lotus Blossom exclaimed. “Slap some of the drink down the back of my neck if you like. I would like to stick my leg into it. Here goes for the stew.” She seized aspoon and dished out some on a plate. She passed the plate to Goldie.

“Keep it, woman,” Goldie ordered. “You’re toopolite for a dessert wench. Every female for herself.” She piled stew on her own plate. “I can’t make it out. It isn’t goulash, but it’s as savory as a lover’s kiss.”

The girls all helped themselves to the stew and squatted cross-legged on the sand. Even in theheat, their appetites were good, and they ate quantities of the stew, washing it down with long drafts of the punch. Nor did they neglect the ice cream.

Goldie felt stuffed when she finished the last spoonful of ice cream on her plate. She got up and began piling the empty dishes up neatly. The other girls helped. When all the dishes were stacked neatly, Goldie put her arm around Lotus Blossom’s waist. “Now that we have done our duty by cleaning up things for United, what next?”

“Let’s go outside and investigate,” Lotus Blossom suggested.

The thirty girls moved out into the sun. Theymade their way toward the palms about the little lake. One girl suggested a swim, but it was voted down. The water did not suggest that it was intended for swimming. So, they sat in the sand and got acquainted in United fashion. Each girl told about herself, her present six years of work,and where she lived. They told about themselves briefly so as to give the others a chance. No girlhad any thought of any privacy about herself.63 They had nothing to keep from one another, for there was no possessiveness in their lives. There was no competition or any need to pretend about anything. There was not anything that one had thatall the others did not have or could not have. Anyone of the girls would have been delighted if she had thought another girl wanted something she had,whether it was some little trinket, some new gadget that another girl had not seen before, or the girl’s lover. It was difficult to do another afavor but very pleasant when the rare opportunity presented itself, which made it possible.

The girls seemed to be left entirely to themselves, although Goldie knew that attendants were about someplace. She suspected that now that they had left the large tent that workers were busy in there removing the dishes and getting it ready for the next group of tourists. Goldie, likethe other girls, had her veil pushed back on the top of her turban. She glanced around at her companions. Their talk had died out somewhat, and all their faces were a lack of expectation. They

63 Strangers were always asking about the sex life of others. Personal privacy was neither expected nor given.

knew that some surprise was in store for them and expected it to happen at any moment.

“It looks,” a girl who had said her name was Venus, “as if they are going to wet our anticipations plenty.”

“Do you realize, darlings,” another girl spoke, “that we Uniteds never do this. Of course, we have given our histories to one another, but that was just fill-in-time. I mean, we never do nothing like this. We are always seeing something on the television, or playing some game, or dancing, or going someplace, or making love. We never sit and do nothing. It’s strange and creepy.”

“We’ll have to amuse ourselves,” Goldie announced.

“How?” several demanded.“Tell stories,” Lotus Blossom answered.The girls looked at her inquiringly.“It’s up to you, Lotus Blossom,” Goldie said.

“You made the suggestion. You tell us a story.”“Well,” Lotus Blossom began, “I use to belong

to a club.”They all laughed.“Oh, not the kind of club you’re thinking of.

I don’t know now, yes, the club I mean I belonged to about a hundred years or so ago. There was a bunch of us that used to get together and tell stories. Some of them really happened to the narrator, but most of them were too ridiculous to be possible. But the club really became interesting the first night we started a game we called The Confessional.”

“But I don’t see the point,” one of the girls

said. “We never do anything wrong. I don’t mean that I am perfect. I have my little temptations, like wanting to sit back in my office and just think about something that happened the night before and waste some of the six hours I should use only for United. But little things like that aren’t interesting.”

“Oh, it isn’t things like that,” Lotus Blossom reached her arm around the girl’s waist and gave her a little squeeze. “It’s the crazy ideas you sometimes have and the mistakes you makethat you don’t tell others about. Like the ambitious dreams, we all get that we want to do something great for United, and we think up some scheme so nutty that we would a little rather thatno one else knew about it. Something that you thought or did that was so foolish that you are ashamed of it. Did you hear Dr. Henry over the television the other night when he said that feeling ashamed was one of the thrills of life? That we could get a kick out of it and to blush before another gave the blusher a definite pleasure emotion.”

“Yes,” one of the girls answered. I heard him, and I remember he said that it was too bad that we were able to enjoy being ashamed so seldom. I believe that I had an experience once that I am ashamed of. I’ll tell it. But, no, LotusBlossom was to start this. Go ahead, darling.”

“It was when I was a child on Children’s Isle. I had just heard a lecturer telling us things about United and how we should put it first, which, of course, meant simply putting the other person first. He told about the religious

ascetics and how they suffered privation for theirfaith. So, I got the idea that I wouldn’t play anymore erotic games, and I was just beginning to like them, and that I would refuse to eat anythingbut bread. I was going to do without all the things I liked and wanted, and then I was going tobe a great lecturer and tell everybody what it waslike not to have any fun. You see, everybody wouldwant to know what it was like not to have fun, andI would be able to tell them.”

“Well, did you follow your plan?” Goldie asked.

“For a half-hour, I did, feeling very mysterious and wondering what my companions would think if they only knew my dark secret. But then there was a history lesson, and the teacher asked who Moses was, and nobody knew but me. I told, andthat was a pleasure, and I decided that it was toohard not to have pleasures, so I gave the idea up.”

“I can’t see any pleasure about knowing Moses,” Goldie murmured.

“No,” agreed Lotus Blossom, “but our pleasureis coming. Look!” She pointed across the desert. The boys are coming back. There will be no more confessions today.”

A voice came from hidden low speakers, the same voice that had come to Goldie in her tent, announcing luncheon. “Lower your veils. These are not your lovers coming back. It’s a raid by the Arabs. Lower your veils before the gaze of these savages!”

Chapter 15

The girls lowered their veils and watched theapproaching horsemen. As the men came nearer, theybegan shouting savagely, “By Allah’s beard, by theson of the prophet, I’ll get myself a pretty slave.”

The girls sat still and unperturbed. They realized that the men approaching were not the same group that they had started out with. Probably their own group was raiding some other camp.

The horsemen came dashing toward them, bellowing like mad. They rode well as all Immortals did. Swinging low in their saddles, theytried to sweep up the girls. They were not very successful. For the most part, they succeeded in tumbling off their horses and on top of the girls they had chosen. But the horses were as well-trained as polo ponies. They stopped while the boys lifted their girls up in the saddles and climbed on in back of them. With their prizes, they rode in the same direction from which they came.

Some of the girls had run when the boys rode into the midst of them. They liked the idea of being chased but were soon enough caught. Goldie chose to sit and wait to be grabbed up. Her boy did not fall from his horse, partly because when he reached for her, she helped him by half-leapingonto the horse herself. Riding astraddle, she felthis arms closing around her and his hot breath on her neck.

He kept shouting, and the horse galloped like

mad.“Shut up,” Goldie yelled.“Wench,” he hissed into her ears, “I’ll make

you pay for your disrespect to your master. When Iget you to my tent, I’ll whip you until you cry for mercy, you white-skinned she-dog of an unbeliever!”

“How entertaining,” Goldie responded.“If you don’t play nice, young lady,” he said

in an entirely different tone of voice, “and pretend to be a scared captured slave, you’ll be cheating. That’s the idea, you know.”

“Have mercy, master,” Goldie cried. “Pity me,master.”

“That’s better, much better.” He kissed the back of her neck and then, remembering he was a brute, bit her ear.

“Ouch, you savage.” She laughed carefree and happy, exhilarated by the speed and delighted witha new game to be played with everything she could put into it, as a well-brought-up Immortal girl should.

They rode until they shortly came to another oasis and group of tents similar to the one from which they had just come. Her escort drove right up to the front of one of the tents. He dismountedand growled at her, “Get down!”

She slid down into his arms, and he lifted her and carried her into the tent, pulling the flap shut as he entered. Without a word, he stalked over to the skin-covered divan in the far corner and threw her down upon it.

Goldie had no opportunity to snap her garters, even though she had kept them on when she

had discarded her stockings — she would have no more thought of going without them than she would have gone without her engagement book. Her veil was roughly shoved back as her lips were sought. She decided that she could not do any better than to be the overpowered, frightened, but submissive slave girl.

Somewhat later, she managed to get out, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Alba, chief of the forty thieves,” her partner answered.

“I’m Fatima, private secretary to the chief woman beater of the Sultan of Bagdad,” Goldie tossed off in return.

“Oh, my old friend, the Sultan of Bagdad, as fine a chap as ever slit a slave’s throat. I have often been a guest at his palace. The sultan givessuch delightful informal parties. I well remember the last one. It was held in the palace gardens. Quite a spectacle, yes, quite.”

“Well, if you must tell me about it.”“It was a stag affair.”“A stag?”“Yes, he had captured a couple of thousand

Christian unbelievers, and after picking the womenout and putting them in dungeons until it could bedecided which were to be used in the harem and which were to be sent to the mines, there were about a thousand he-dogs of unbelievers left. Got a cigarette?”

“No.”“Nor have I, and there’s no smoke switch.”Goldie waited, but her companion was silent.

He bent and began counting her toes.

“You have ten of them,” he announced and settled back comfortably on the divan.

“I am not going to ask you what your friend, the Sultan of Bagdad, did to the thousand male-dogs of unbelievers.”

“Then, I won’t tell you.”“Very well. I think I shall get up and see

what’s going on outside.” Goldie raised herself onthe divan.

“Oh, don’t. Stay awhile.”“And the thousand male-dogs of unbelievers?”“I thought you weren’t going to ask me. They

were chained to posts and drenched in oil and ignited. It was a pretty sight, the bright flames in the dark night. One could write a tender poem about the beauty of it.”

“I suppose it amused you, but I am afraid that I would have been bored. It may have been oneof the sultan’s off nights. Usually, his parties are more sophisticated.”

“I guess I’m just a country sheik and not used to city ways. It seems quite a nice affair tome. You see, I don’t get to Bagdad often. There’realways the chores to do. You’ve got to milk the camels and feed the ostriches and maybe a slave oftwo to be whipped.”

“We were told to tell you to.”“Good United, I’m not to be captured again,

am I?”“Didn’t you like it?”“Goldie grinned. “What’s your real name?”“Robin Hood. I live in San Francisco.”“Mine’s Goldie. I’m from New York.” She

stretched and gave a comfortable yawn. “I’m

getting up.”Outside they found it rather deserted. A few

couples were strolling about. They walked down to the little lake and found a spot partly shaded by the palms. They stretched out on the sand and talked lazily. She found that Robin Hood was a dentist. She asked him to examine her teeth. Your dentin is okay,” he told her. “I only find about one patient in two hundred who needs any treatment. You have never had any trouble with newteeth growing in, have you?”

“Nope. I have had these for goodness knows how long.”

“Good for another fifty years yet, I should say, before they will get lose and others come in.We have practically solved the question of teeth. A couple of years ago, a girl in San Francisco hada toothache. One of her nerves was infected. Therehad only been one other case like it five years previously in my area. I wasn’t a dentist then. I was doing my six years manual.”

“What kind of manual?”“I was down in Florida. I had to treat

sponges that were being dried out. If you don’t inject them, they smell horribly when they are drying out. Real sponges are one of the things youtake when you are looking around for a luxury. Notthat they are any better. Look, there is a fellow up in the tower there. They call them minarets, don’t they?”

“There, listen. He’s giving the call to prayer.”

“Isn’t his language queer. I suppose it is from the Koran.”

The voice came plaintively to them. Even though they could not understand the words, there was a solemnity about it. But it did not last long. The voice changed to English after a brief pause. “Dinner and entertainment are ready to be served in the big tent at the foot of this minaret. The girls are requested to remain veiled.When you eat, adjust your veil so that it hangs just at the center of your pretty nose.”

The interior of the large tent was different than the one where Goldie had eaten luncheon. There were tables and chairs set for sixty guests.The chairs were arranged on only one side of the tables so that they all faced a raised platform. On the platform was a single table and behind it atall chair over which hung a canopy. Seated in thechair was a man dressed in elaborate robes. Standing beside and somewhat behind him were two girls, with veils pushed back on their turbans. Each girl moved slowly back and forth a huge fan of feathers attached to a pole.

Goldie and Robin Hood sat down beside each other at one of the tables. When everybody was seated, the man on the platform stood up. The two girls beside him stopped fanning him and knelt at his feet.

“Sheiks and slave girls give praise to Allah and me. A great feast has been prepared. It pleases me that I stuff you with the delicacies ofmy great kingdom. If the favor of the food displeases you, tell me, and I shall have my cookstortured and beheaded. If it pleases you, speak sothat my ears may hear your praise. Let pass no dish lest it displease me.” He clapped his hands

together and sat down.The waiters then came in with the first

course. Goldie found the food as good as it would have been in New York. Course followed course. These at her table made it a point to put aside their usual good manners. They ate noisily and belched lustily. Some sang between courses or pounded on the table with their knives and forks. But as the meal went on, the noise subsided, and conversation became more as it would have been at some dinner gathering at home. A boy near Goldie was telling about his work raising bees. She had never given much thought to bees, but the boy madethem sound very interesting. Those near him stopped their own chatter to listen to him. He sawthat he was getting an audience and hesitated, explaining that he did not want to monopolize the conversation. But he was urged to go on.

Goldie found herself attracted to him. He wasof the dark-haired, brown-skinned type that she often found possessed a physical allure for her. Once she caught his eyes, and he smiled at her. She was pretty sure that he found her pleasing. Atleast she hoped that his smile was not only his good manners. She hoped that the opportunity wouldpresent itself to get acquainted and date him if he so desired.

When the last course was finished, the sheik under the canopy rose and struck his hands together to attract attention.

“We have to raise money for my kingdom,” he announced. “Allah has been good to me, and many are the she-slaves I possess. So, I have no use for these at the tables and will sell them to you.

Come up here on the platform, all you shes.”Goldie looked at Robin Hood, shrugged, and

stood up. She walked to the platform and mounted it with the other girls. She knew that she was going to be auctioned off. Oh well, it was all just good clean fun.

When they were all standing on the platform, the sheik demanded that they remove their veils. “Now,” he said, “after faces are naked, I will auction you off to your masters.” He reached for the girl nearest him. He pinched her cheeks, told her to open her mouth. “Teeth all good,” he said briskly. “Turn around so we can see you going as well as coming, little one. Now, what am I bid? How many camels for this tiny bit of meat?”

Bids rose from the men all over the tent. Notsatisfied with bidding camels, they offered horses, sheep, tents, and even kingdoms. One man bid lower than all the rest, and while he was bidding, the girl snapped her garter. When the others realized that the girl liked the boy, they ceased bidding. Amid groans and yells, the auctioneer banged down his gravel. “Sold!” he cried. “I’m ashamed to take so little for her.”

Goldie had her eyes on the boy who had been talking about the bees at her table. She kept awayfrom the auctioneer to give the boy plenty of opportunity to bid some other girl, if he wanted to and yet hoping that he would not.

He had made bids on other girls but always stopped in time to prevent getting any of them. There was only one other girl, and Goldie left when the auctioneer reached for her. There was theusual bidding. The boys had not stopped bidding

with the acquisition of their own girls. They had kept it up to keep things lively. But they always stopped before getting another girl, for they knewthere were just enough to go around. Goldie was bid for heartily, but by then, she was certain thebee man wanted her, so she finally snapped her garter at one of his bids. She was sold to him forsix thousand camels, a last year’s calendar, and the original jug that he said Omar Khayyam64 had drunk from and given him and thou, who had gone with the jug.

The last girl was put at auction, all of the boys crying bids but stopping in time for the one sheik, who did not have a girl, to get her. Attendants were removing the tables and bringing in cushions that they placed on the sand. Goldie had her bee man settled themselves comfortably. The sheik, who had been acting as master of ceremonies, announced that dancers from his harem would entertain them for a while. As Immortals often did, he put aside the spirit of play long enough to inject a little serious information.

“These dancers,” he explained, “are as authentic as research can make them. They are really Arabian. The moral code of the Arabs of theUnenlightened Age was more generous to the male than most of the more Northern peoples. A man could have as many wives as the wealth permitted. His passion could enjoy the zest that variety

64 Omar Khayyam, 1048-1131, was a Persian mathematician, astronomer, philosopher, and poet. By the 1880s, Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam was popular throughout the English-speaking world. Omar Khayyam (Edward FitzGerald, ed.) Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: The Astronomer-Poet of Persia (London : Bernard Quaritch, 1859).

gives. His poor girls were even less fortunate than those who lived in Northern climes for most nights they had no one to warm their feet and had to wait their turn for the whim of his choosing.”

“So, in the dance, which these girls are to give you, you will understand their earnestness intheir efforts to attract my attention. Note their skill in their seductiveness, their elusive teasing, and the finesse of their art. That was all there was to life for these women, to please aman with her body. In youth to please him with thearts of love and when old, at twenty or so, with the drudgery of the hard labor her body performed.”

He clapped his hands, and girl musicians cameinto the tent. Approaching him, the first knelt athis feet, touching the ground with their foreheads, and then sat behind and to the side of him. Their musical instruments were drums, stringed harps of various kinds, and flutes. They began to play plaintively. Other girls entered thetent dancing.

At first, Goldie was impressed with the sheerbeauty of the dancing. The music and dancing were a song of sorrow. It was as though a woman were weeping. Her sorrow expressed in dance and music played now more grievously, now more softly, only to break into more anguish of the spirit. It was marvelous how the dancing and music could suggest this sorrow, the utter futility of woman’s lot. For man, in his youth, there could be the pleasureof the hunt, of war, and of choosing his lovers. In age, he would have comfort and power. Beyond this life was his heaven for greater joys. But for

woman, in youth, there was only submission withoutchoice and, in age, drudgery. And for her, there was no heaven beyond. Like an old camel, broken with the last load, a woman sank to her knees and just died.65

But hope springs eternal even in an Arabian woman’s breasts. Youth quickens her, too, if only for a fleeting hour. The music changed from sorrowto hope, from death to life. All was not lost. Love might be found some shadowed night with some comely slave boy in the straw beneath some camel’sbelly. Passion might know its transports. It was then that the dances, although still a part of thegeneral song, became more individual. At least thesheik before them was a male. They swayed and twisted before him. Their supple bodies made supplications to him. He sat before them immobile.

The dance went on, and still, he sat without emotion, like some stone idol into whose lap is piled the throat-silted lambs, not condescending to look down at the blood wetting his knees. The sheik sat with eyes heavy with indifference and blew blue smoke from his water pipe. The dance grew faster, wilder, and urgent. The dancers’ bodies trembled and quivered with their pleading. Then with a crash of the drums, the music ceased, and the dancers flung themselves face-downward on the rugs and sand.

Slowly the sheik laid down the stem of his water pipe and stood up. As he approached, each girl rose to her knees and held out her arms in 65 Wood commented: “I liked very much the paragraph on page 156 about the dancing of the women being a song of sorrow, etc. All that section about the ancient subjugation of womankind is very interesting and well described.”

supplication. Then, when all of them were kneeling, he marched slowly out of the tent, and the dancers got to their feet and followed him. The musicians followed the procession.

“Quite a show,” the bee man spoke into Goldie’s ear.

“I thought I was a good dancer,” Goldie said thoughtfully, “but those girls were marvelous.”

“It was certainly well done. Real art. I am sure you are a good dancer too. I guess the show is over. Will you take us to your tent and dance just for me?”

“It was worth coming all the way to Sahara just to see,” Goldie breathed. “Now I know why salmon leap the rapids and why birds fly thousandsof miles to their mating ground. Oh, Robin Hood, how could people in the Unenlightened Age think sex an ugly thing? It is as beautiful as a sunrise, as holy as a rainbow.”

“They would probably have called that last simile sacrilege, like belittling United. You are a serious-minded darling. But you will dance for me, won’t you?”

Goldie sighed and then lifted her face to smile up at him. “As you command, master.”

The next morning, automobiles equipped with special tires for desert travel awaited Goldie to take her back to the great flying bird that would bring her to New York and the end of her vacation.

Bruin found her on the ship and claimed her. She asked him about his dive diversion since they had parted. Like her, at another oasis, he had witnessed the same sort of dancing. He had also been on a raiding party and had captured a

redheaded girl he said he liked rather well.“But you did not have her last night, too,

did you?”“No, I bid for at Blue-headed girl to just

tell stories to each other. She had some awfully good stories. If I had ever heard them before, I must have forgotten them.”

“You can tell them to me tonight.”“You don’t have to be with me tonight. This

last night out, the suggestion is that one can find a new friend.”

“You haven’t found one, have you?” It was a statement rather than a question. She kept disappointment out of her voice. She was resigned to his company this last night of her vacation.

Chapter 16

“And how was the desert vacation, Goldie?” Bluebeard asked as he flexed his muscles and stretched himself comfortably beside her.

Before answering him, Goldie pressed her pillow into a ball so that her head would be higher. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about it.”

“I didn’t have a chance with Moonbeam and that actor friend with us at dinner. They are worse than we are, talking shop all the time.”

“Why, dear?”“Oh, there are other companies doing her act.

Of course, she is the original, but she can’t go on forever being a worm. And she knows she hasn’t special talent to make it right for her to ask to be continued on the stage indefinitely. I am a little afraid that someday she is going to miss being a glamour girl.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her, Goldie. I imagine that United will want her to continue another six years before she goes back to menial. And you know how a nickname sticks. She will always be called a worm, and her lovers will ask her to put on private performances for them. Our work may change, but our play doesn’t much.”

“What is our life, Bluebeard? Is it our six hours of work, or do we live primarily for our play?’

“I know United teaches that play comes first.But work is more than a chore that is necessary toorder that society may exist. Of course, all of ushave a righteous feeling when we are at work, even

when we are doing menial. We feel that we are doing it for the good of United. No reward could be greater than that knowledge. You couldn’t ask for a higher reward.”

“It depends largely upon what your six-year assignment is. Some work is interesting. Take you and me, for instance. We would rather lie here andtalk shop than go out to some entertainment.”

“We don’t even turn on the television, do we?”

“That’s right. We don’t. I am sure, too, thatyou cheated on United today and spent more than your six hours at work. You went to some library and put on a talking book and listened to more dope on the Unenlightened Age.”

“Yes, I did. But I preferred it to some otherform of amusement, and it was not exactly my required work.”

“What did you read about?”“I was reading — But, no, later. Tell me

first about your vacation.”“It was fun, Bluebeard.” She related all her

experiences.“I think, Goldie, you’re fed up with your

Bruin. I don’t mean that unkindly towards him.”“I know you don’t. Bruin has a fixation

toward me. Likes me in a way he shouldn’t. After all, the race is still young. It is only natural that there should linger the old evil of possession. I know I feel its urge sometimes. Often, I try and find somebody to whom I can give a keepsake that I feel that I have grown too fond of, a favorite watch or trinket of some kind that I have a personal attachment to.”

Bluebeard laughed. “I remember a pair of boots I had in Siberia. When I was through there, I actually wanted to bring those boots to New York. They would have been of no practical use. I remember telling the fellow I persuaded to take them to take good care of them. I told him they had been kind to my feet. The more I read about the past, the more I realize what an evil possessiveness was.66

“Well, of course, it brought on the last war.It almost finished the race. Hitler wanted to possess the world. He only carried to its bitter end the right to acquire.”

“Yes, the German people were to own everything. All other peoples were to be their servants. At first, he tried to make the Japanese and the Russians and even the poor Italians think that they were to be rulers, too. But he planned to make them slaves later after he had licked England and America. And, of course, he thought ofhimself as the owner of the German people. Their life and death were to be in his hands. Any girl he wanted, he could take, although I don’t think he was so much for the women. Mussolini went in more for that sort of thing. But figuratively

66 “Possessiveness” in this novel is much like Marx’s sense of “having.” For Marx, Communism would liberate the individuality of everyone. This new man would be an “unalienated” man whom Marx described as a “total” or “all-sided” man. The suppression of alienation would mean total liberation. All human faculties would become the means of appropriating reality. This is difficult to imagine for an alienated man because private property blunts men’s sensibilities so that they can imagine an object to be theirs only when they actually possess it. Under capitalism,the single alienation of “having” has replaced all physical and intellectual senses.

speaking, he could only have the women Hitler threw out of his own bedroom.”

“I suppose the worst thing about it all, Bluebeard, was the crass materialism. He would have made every man and woman a machine. Everything was to be sacrificed to the material efficiency of that machine. There was no room in his scheme for ideals, for kindness, for anything higher than the material. He burned books that made men think. He had no conception of truth as truth. A man should only think those things that made him an efficient machine for the Reich.”

“A conquering machine that could keep the lesser machines, the Polish, French, English, and American machines in subjection.”67

“Perhaps he was only carrying out to its logical conclusion the selfishness of that poor civilization.”

“A civilization based on barter and on individual acquisition. Wolves, Goldie, devouring one of their sick members of the pack.”

“He did have the excuse of nature. A thousandacorns fall, and only one mighty oak grows.”

“Yes, but man is greater than nature, put on earth to use it, not to be its slave.68 What happens to the acorn now in our forests?”

“The nine hundred and ninety-nine are ground up for oil, and the thousandth becomes a tree.”

“We no longer have weeds in the clover and thorns on the roses.”

67 It is hard to make convincing sense of his omission, hereand elsewhere, of Soviet Russia.68 Christians have long debated whether mankind is part of nature or the lord over nature. Clarke clearly was staking out his position.

“We don’t need the thorns any longer, Bluebeard. The roses no longer have to protect themselves. The soft, green stems are as smooth askindness. Kindness knows no pricks and sheds no blood.”

“Do you remember the lecturer we heard once, oldie? How he said that if we had been born under such a system, we would have been the same. Men and women had to struggle so for the things they wanted. The competition between human beings was so great that it controlled their philosophy of life. It became a part of their religion. They wanted to own everything personally. Kindness is easy for us, I suppose, because we can get everything we want. There isn’t anything we can’t have, really. If I see a pretty girl with another fellow, I can go up to her and say, “I would like to date you. I know you have a boy now, but some other night,” and she pulls out her engagement book and gives me a date.”

“In the old days, if you had asked her for a date in front of her boyfriend, you would have gotten a crack on the nose.”

“Yep, Goldie, and he would have yelled, ‘She is mine!’”

“They did not believe much in sharing, and that’s a fact. Even things they could share like agirl. A girl’s gift doesn’t wear out.”

“They acted as though they thought it did. I was studying the other day about the Eskimos. Theyused to share whatever they had. An Eskimo would store caches of food when the catch was good for times when it would not be good. But if another Eskimo needed the food, he could take it. And in

their igloos, any visitor could help himself to frozen fish. If he wanted to borrow the host’s wife, he asked the host for her and then the host’s wife crawled under the guest’s skins for that night instead of under her husband’s. It was considered improper for him to ask the wife without the husband’s permission.”

“I suppose, Bluebeard, they shared because they had so little while we share because we have so much.”

“They had to share to live. Life was so hard.It was a matter of life and death to share. An Eskimo could take from another man’s cache becausethat other man might someday need to take from his. Because their existence depended upon communal life, they did not fall victim to possessiveness to the extent other peoples did. So, they thought nothing of sharing their most valued possession, the wives.”

“We think nothing of sharing our wives because, with the abundance of good things we have, our philosophy is entirely unselfish. The Eskimos were considered primitives in the Unenlightened Age. Yet, they were more like us in some ways. The people living further toward the warm lands had just enough things to want more. There weren’t enough of those good things to go around, and so they were selfish.”

“I suppose we can’t take much credit for being unselfish, dear. The worst of it is that theselfishness of people in the old days kept them from having things. Even without the things that the race has learned about control of the soil, the problems of distribution, and the use of

machinery, even without much of the knowledge we have today. I still believe that if man had been less selfish in the old days, there could have been enough for everybody. Look at the energy theyconsumed in making sinful things all the way from whips to great battleships. Lots of them chose soldiering as a life profession, to be skilled murderers.”

“I can understand, Bluebeard, a man thinking he had to be a soldier in order to defend his country. But those leaders who sat back and deliberately planned wars of aggression for a bit of land or a fistful of power and to be willing tosacrifice thousands of lives. Murder and thievery on the grand scale. What manner of creatures were these, Bluebeard? There were, really were, such creatures, weren’t there? It’s hard to believe.”

“Even in peacetime, men used to like to hunt.The women, too! They used to go out and shoot animals. And they didn’t do it to secure needed food. They did it for fun. They used to have that game they played on horses. You know that fox hunting they used to have. A big bunch of grown-upmen and women, all dressed up in red coats and blowing horns, would chase after one poor, bewildered animal who didn’t have a chance. They called themselves sportsmen. They had hunt breakfasts, whatever they were. Only the rich and best-educated could afford to do it.”

“Do you suppose they were kind of crazy? Of course, even since the Enlightened Age, for a while, people fished. They said that it was exhilarating to feel the tug on the line and to battle with the fish and finally, when it was worn

out from fighting for its life, to drag it into the boat.”

“Did you ever see one of those funny old pictures, Goldie? One of those pictures they had taken of themselves, a man standing beside a dead fish. Exhilarating, United! Fish may not have muchbrains, but they certainly must have wanted to live. And felt pain. What a cowardly thing to do. They deceived the fish, too. Put things on their hooks to make them think there was something good to eat. I am glad that no one fishes anymore. We kill fish painlessly now and only for food. I wishwe could discover some way to manufacture meat artificially so that it would be the same and taste just as good.”

“They are working on it.”“There are still things to discover.

Civilization isn’t perfect even yet. Maybe a thousand years from now, you and I, Goldie, will think that we lived crude lives back in these times with our raising animals and fish to kill and eat them and with our streets, unheated in winter and uncooled in summer.”

“I hope we shan’t look back upon this age with horror as we do upon the past ages, especially the Destructive Age during the latter part of the Second World War. It was bad enough here in America while in Europe, human life almostbecame extinct.”

“They air bombed the cities until there was nothing left to them, and those who survived fled to the country. There they were, civilians and soldiers all mixed up and everything so disorganized that no one worked any longer. They

couldn’t make any more guns or manufacture any more ammunition because their cities were gone. Noone raised any food. They didn’t think it was going to turn out to be entirely an air war with no ground fighting. Just blasting each other’s cities from the skies and even the little villagesin time. Then, when there was no more way to get gasoline, and the food gave out, there were the revolutions. First, the conquered people of France, Belgium, and the other countries were too numerous for their victors when the ammunition wasgone, and they killed them with clubs and their own bayonets.”

“I like to think of that little touch of decency that intervened, Bluebeard. How the conquered peoples moved toward Germany to wreak vengeance. And how, when they got there, they found that the Germans had turned against their leaders, burned Hitler in oil, and how they were so much weaker from hunger and nearer the end thatthere was no fight left in them. And for a while, the conquered peoples went about killing the creatures, who really put up no defense, kept killing them until their arms were tired from banging heads and slashing bodies. And then, almost as if someone had given a signal, they stopped their killing. They even tried to help theGermans, and they wept with them for the loss of civilization and their homes and all the things that they had had. They say that hatred of hate became so strong that no one would lift his hand against another. That a Pole or a Jew could walk alone into the midst of a thousand Germans, and not one hand would be lifted against him and vice

versa.“Yes, dear, and they tried to get back to

their own lands then, the poor things. Planned to start all over and till their fields, but they hadwaited too long. They began to eat one another. They became murders again but only for food now. In small bands at first until the bands ate their own members. Then as individuals, stalking for food until no man could find a safe place to sleepat night, and most deaths came because of sleep when weary feet would carry the victim no further.Only a few got away to America, where there still was some food. There were mighty few left when America sent its ships of food to Europe.”

“We are morbid going all over these horrors, Bluebeard, but there is something fascinating, as gruesome as it all is, about the survival of the human race. India and Africa were almost as depleted as Europe. South American was worse off than North because the Germans had gotten in there. Japan was gone. The Chinese carried their victory in China into Japan, determined to preventforever a reoccurrence of the menace. They made the Island Kingdom a huge cemetery. They had the excuse that they themselves had almost been wiped out, all those millions.”

“Oh, the race was mad then, insanity. No one ever could have thought then that even America could bring about this. Out of that death came this life. If it not been for that terrible war, Goldie, our civilization would have come centurieslater if it ever came at all.

“I believe that it would have come but much later. Not in our day. We would have been born,

only to die. Think of it, dying. It is so difficult to imagine how women must have felt whenthey knew they had to die. To someday walk along the street and realize that men did not raise interested eyes at you any longer because you had gotten old. To know that you weren’t pretty any longer, and men did not want to sleep with you. Totry and stave off your age with paint and powder but know it was a losing battle. To see others, young and vivacious, and to be old and ugly yourself.”

“I guess that was even worse than it must have been in those days to see rich people in big cars and fine homes and costly clothes when you were poor and could have none of those things.”

“Yes, that would be the greatest poverty, to be poor in looks. Even a poor girl living in some awful pace could be attractive and have lovers.”

“No, she couldn’t. At least she was only supposed to have one. How would you like that, Goldie? To know that you would never, in all your life, sleep with more than one man. That you wouldnot have different men all the time. Good United! Maybe you would never have a single man sleep withyou if you didn’t get married. You wouldn’t be supposed to.”

“Do you suppose there actually were women whowere born, lived, and finally died without ever knowing a single man?”

“Of course, you know there were.”“Yes, I know there were, but I don’t believe

it. I would hate to believe it, the damn fools!”“I guess it is pretty well agreed among us

Immortals that the reason why mortals kept on

living and did not all commit suicide was because there is an instinct to live. The instinct that plants have and animals, too.

“Yes, and when you read their books, you see that, for all their woes, they wanted to live, too. I suppose it is somewhat a matter of degree. We are used to big and many pleasures. They only had little pleasures and few of them. Maybe, it islike it would be if you had a toothache. I’ve never had one, but I guess they war mean. Well, you have a toothache, and then it stops, and you feel mighty good because you don’t have it any longer. Maybe they had so much trouble that when it lightened a little, they were comparatively happy.”

They are all gone now, all those forebears ofours, stumbling up the hill. I guess we are prettynear the top now, and the sun our ancestors saw resting on the top of it is even brighter and warmer than they knew. Perhaps they knew it would be, though. Perhaps they dreamed of the super race. Perhaps they knew that they were only the fertilizer that was to bring the flower. They stank and were filthy, but they made possible this. Perhaps they did not stink in their filth invain. I feel my debt to them.”

“Me, too, Bluebeard, I only wish there were one of them left to see this, to enjoy it forever as we shall. Oh, I do wish that. Their lot was so hard. It was doubly so because they had some intelligence, and they must have had feelings. They wrote some poems. They sang some songs. I guess they were a good deal like us.”

“Even when they had lynchings? When they

persecuted those who didn’t think like they did? Even when they made wars and ate one another?”

“They were hungry, Bluebeard. They were always hungry.”

Chapter 17

“I think you have been avoiding me, Goldie.” Bruin smiled and breathed deeply of the smoke thatpermeated Goldie’s apartment as though he were perfectly content and happy. He wanted his remark to sound as if he attached no importance to it. She knew, though, that she had been avoiding him and that he knew it. She felt guilty that she had been selfish in not seeing him more often when he desired it.

“Life is so full, Bruin, that we miss a lot of things we don’t mean to. Boys that we have sortof half-dates with, and mean to make real dates, and never get around to it. I have been meaning todo so many things, and the tomorrows that I mean to do them in come like flashes and go, and I think the next tomorrow. Even eternity is short when you stop to think about it. At least, it is broken up so with the six hours of work and the sleep that one takes and sometimes wants. Bluebeard says that not the least among enjoymentsis drowsiness. Don’t you love it when your eyes close of their own volition, and your mind enters a cloud of dawdling somnolence, and you sink into oblivion? You are just faintly conscious of the kind bed softly caressing you like the kiss of a satisfied lover that dies on your lips. The last kiss of one who is, and in whose arms you fall asleep.”

“Bluebeard is always saying something. There I go again. Why do I talk that way?”

“I don’t know, but you do. “Tell me more about your new six years, Bruin. Somehow, I never

thought of your going into agriculture. How come?”It was one of the things offered, and it

appealed to me. When you first think about it, it sounds like menial work, but it isn’t. You see, I only have a few feet of ground that is set aside for my experiments. Every single plant is to be numbered and all its symptoms tabulated. Each plant is like a guinea pig in a laboratory. Of course, there will be lots of lectures and classroom work, but a lot of it will be feeding different foods to my plants in my little plot. Mylack of knowledge of agriculture is supposed to bea sort of asset. There are several hundreds of us with our individual plots. All of us are amateurs.We can do all the crossbreeding we want, try different foods and dope. A fellow might stumble onto something. One chance in a million, of course.

“Of course, but think what strides have been made. Who would have ever thought a thousand year ago that we would have cherries so big that when you cut a couple of slices off with a knife, you have all anybody would want for their desert? Who would have ever thought that cherries would be raised like cabbages with just one cherry to a tree? It took so many years of patience to do that. Maybe you will be so good at it that you will always be an agriculturalist and no go back to menial in six years.”

“Oh, it is interesting, all right. I was talking to a pea girl. She’s been working on peas for a couple of hundred years, I guess. She is trying to get only one pea to grow in a pod. They have gotten so far now that they can grow only

three peas in a pod, two little scrawny ones that are hardly peas at all and a big one in the center.”

“I didn’t know that.”“She told me that the big pea has a tendency

to break its pod, and then exposure makes it tough. They know that nature will make that pea develop a hard skin. Of course, a person could pare a pea like they do the skin of an apple, but they are trying to develop the pod so it won’t split open.”

“I suppose someday instead of just ordering adish of peas as a vegetable, you will tell the waiter, ‘And bring me a slice of pea, please.’”

“That would not be as wonderful as a lot of things we have already.”

“No, it wouldn’t. I hope you do something bigfor United, Bruin.”

“That’s everyone’s dream, of course. There isn’t a chance, but I think I’ll like that few feet to fool around in.”

“It’s in Iowa, isn’t it?”“Yes, but I’ll get to New York lots of

evenings and weekends.”“Bring some of these Iowa girls along. Find

one that is different, and let me look her over.”“Better still, you come out to one of our

earth parties. They are better than our sand parties. It takes a week of baths to get the dirt out of your ears. You will come out and have one with me, won’t you, Goldie?”

“Why, of course, Bruin, I would love to. Any time you say.”

“How about this coming weekend?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bruin, but at last, my time has come to visit the Children’s Isle. Moonbeam has been planning for us two to visit the kids fora long time. You know so many people want to visitthe Isle that you only get to go about once every twenty years, so I am anxious to go.”

“She got her permit, too, then?”“Yes.”“Whom are you taking as your lovers?”“No one, we’re celibate.”“Well, I don’t blame you.”“Oh!”“You girls are all the same. You say that you

want to see the children, but you are all crazy tohave a breeder as a lover.”

“I notice that the boys never take a girl along when their chance comes to visit the Children’s Isle either. They are thrilled to deathwith the idea of getting one of those girls out there. The very fact that they have to pick a girlwho is already that way makes them all the more anxious. Besides, I do want to see the kids and visit the places where I used to play when I was achild. It will be so much fun to talk to the youngsters, too. Imagine talking to someone who isignorant. I mean, of course, they don’t know lots of things.”

“It’s a request that you not talk to any of them without a teacher being present.”

“I am afraid I can’t, Bruin. That is if you want a Sixthnight. Wait, I’ll get up and look at my book.”

“I thought you said any time.”“Well, a girl gets dated ahead. I think

spontaneous dates are better. I try not to get my engagement book all filled up, but what are you going to do if a boy hints. You can’t be unkind. Iam sorry, but I see that the Sixthnight of July fifth is the first that I have free. It’s only four weeks.”

“I’ll have to wait. Put me down for a night soon. I’ll come to New York. Make it soon like a good fellow, will you, Goldie?

Sure. There, two weeks from tonight. How’s that?”

“Thanks. Put that darn book down and come back here. I don’t like it, anyway.”

Goldie threw the book down in pretended hasteand skipped back to Bruin. As his arms reached forher, she thought of the Children’s Isle she was soon to visit and her own childhood there. It would be nice to see the old familiar place again.But she must not be thinking about that now. She must concentrate on Bruin. She must make him happyand intrigue him with the things she first learnedthere. She must make herself luscious to him. She must be a good girl, aware of being an Immortal. “Bear man,” she panted. “Darling!”

“There it is, Goldie,” Moonbeam pointed excitedly ahead and below to the Children’s Isle. I can hardly wait to land.”

“A white birthday cake with green candles,” Goldie breathed. “The waves are running to nibble at it. It is a pretty spot.”

“I feel like running to nibble at those dear children. We shall soon see children, Goldie. Twenty years since we have seen any.”

“I wonder if the men are as eager to see

them. There is something different about being a girl.”

Moonbeam gave her a glance of surprise.”Goldie shrugged apologetically. “I guess that

remark did show a primitive thought. I’m sorry. But I love all children. I wasn’t thinking of justone or two of them as being mine.” She glanced about and lowered her voice. “Was I? I didn’t meanto.”

Moonbeam put her arm about Goldie. “See that haze over there. There must be children under it. They must be studying, a reading class. It is an artificial haze, so the sun doesn’t glare on theirbooks. We are lower now and landing on the air roof. In a moment, we’ll be among the little ladies and gentlemen.”

Goldie glanced at her wristwatch. “We’re on the dot, of course. Two o’clock. Yes, there’s the luncheon chimes. We eat with some of the children.”

“Not at the same tables, though. But we’ll bein the same dining room.”

Goldie and Moonbeam stepped off the flying boat. They did not bother with their bags. They were on vacation, and the attendants would see that such things were attended to and that each girl’s and boy’s bag was in their rooms when they would want them.

The dining room was built to accommodate twelve hundred diners, six hundred children, and their attendants, and the same number of visitors.A slightly raised platform extended on all four sides of the room. The visitors ate on this platform so that they all were fairly close to the

children. Goldie and Moonbeam almost forgot to eatbecause of the interest they took in watching the children. At zoos, both girls had often watched bear cubs, and little chicks, and small kittens and thought how cute these animals were. But children were different. There was something fascinating about the youngsters at the tables. Itwas too bad that one saw them so seldom. But they were too valuable and their formative years too important to make it possible for them to be used as pets. So, they had to be isolated on the Children’s Isle, and every little thing they did, heard and seen, was watched and guarded.69

The children were seated six at a table, three on either side, while at either end was a teacher. Goldie noticed that once in a while, a teacher corrected a child regarding his table manners. But the teachers seemed to make themselves as unseen as possible. The children made a good deal of noise and called to children at other tables. Only when their voices began shrill did the teachers smilingly reprove them. Goldie knew the ideal of the Children’s Isle, “Every child a king and a servant.” In fact, that was the ideal of United for grownups, too. United as a democracy, but a democracy of aristocrats. United was an aristocracy but an aristocracy of servants. United knew no god but the god that was in man. The only goodness was to bring happiness

69 While Clarke was writing this manuscript, he was putting together his child welfare organization, China’s Children Fund, which was supporting a system of orphanages in war-ravaged China. Clearly, Clarke saw advantages to such institutionalized care, especially when parents were unable or unavailable to fulfill their child-rearing duties.

to man. The only sin was to bring unhappiness to man. What was that old slogan? “Bring happiness tosociety, and society will bring happiness to you.”Slogans were not so popular anymore. It had been decided that they helped keep one from thinking. Asituation arose, and you mumbled a slogan to coverit, and perhaps the slogan didn’t. The slogan might keep you from thinking about the situation. Besides, every situation was a little bit different, and so no slogan really covered it.

After luncheon, Goldie and Moonbeam were escorted with other guests to one of the playgrounds. Here several hundred children were slowly congregating. They came mostly in pairs, a boy and a girl, walking along earnestly conversingon some topic. Goldie wished had she could hear what they were talking about. She remarked to an attendant that the children seemed very quiet and sedate.

“Oh,” the attendant exclaimed, “they will jump and hop about as children do later. They knowthat they are not supposed to let themselves go right after eating. They are requested right afterlunch to practice their charm and to try and be different to some member of the opposite sex. Before they enter into the games, they will line up for a few minutes and stand still so that theirguest may have a good look at them. So, you feast your eyes on them. I know how hungry you are to have a good look at them.”

The children lined themselves up before Goldie and other guests. A little girl right in front of Goldie seemed so very attractive that an exclamation escaped her. “Oh, isn’t she cute,”

Goldie cried.“What’s cute about her?’ the attendant asked.

“June, come here. Shake hand with — ” the attendant hesitated.

“My name is Goldie.”“Shake hands with Goldie, June. You see,

June, you aren’t any different about being cute than any of the other girls. You won’t think of yourself as being any cuter than any of the other girls, will you? That would not be kind to think that.”70

70 Clarke wrote a couple of variants of this scene with Mildred. One went like this:

The attendant’s eyes paused on another girl. “Mildred,what are you scratching yourself there for?”“I itch here, Hortensia.”“Let me see. Pull up — ”“Please, Hortensia. I would rather not.”“What boy did you play your last love game with, Mildred?”“She nodded toward a boy near her who was listening and watching with interest.“Were you thinking about him or some other boy when you scratched yourself?”“No, I just itched.”“You know, Mildred, there are some things we must not do if we can help it before others. For instance, you must not spit. And you should not scratch yourself anyplace, especially there. It isn’t nice. Do you understand, dear?”The child’s brow wrinkled in thought, and she shook her head. “No, I don’t understand. Hortensia. I don’t see why that wouldn’t make a boy notice me.”“But, Mildred, you did not want to show me where you itched. That would have attracted Tom’s attention. Yet, you did not want to. Why?”“I don’t know, Hortensia.”“You did not want to because you are modest. It is nice to be modest. “You see, we girls can do some things to attract attention, but some things are not ladylike. Even if you were playing alone with Tom, youshould not scratch. . . .

I am trying to understand,” the child answered gravely. “Every day I live, I shall understand things better. But I want to look cute,so the boys will like me.”

“You are cute, just like the others, and the boys do like you. Step back in line, dear.” The teacher’s eyes focused on another girl. “Mildred, what are you shaking your head at Bobbie for?”

“He told me that if it was suggested we were allowed to choose our mates today, he was going tochoose me.”

“But do you think that it is very nice and kind to shake your head at him? Who is it you wantto choose you?’

“I don’t want anybody to, Hortensia. I don’t feel like this game.”

“You want to be a good Immortal, Mildred, don’t you? You want to have the boys glad because they think you are nice? You want to be cute, too,like June.”

“I don’t mind being cute and having the boys look at me, but I would rather they took me on theslides or to the rough house.”

“Mildred, come here. Darling, we must think of what the other Immortal wants. United made you beautiful. Tom is pleased when he looks at you. You must be glad he is, glad to please him and do what he wants, not what you want. Besides, my dear, it isn’t natural not to want to have lovers.You would not be a good girl if you didn’t.”

“I want to be good, Hortensia. I am sorry.”

About this, Wood wrote, “The incident beginning on page 176 about the little girl scratching herself struck me as a little too bald. However, maybe I’m getting prissy.” Apparently, her father agreed and revised the scene.

“What would you suggest that you had better do about it?’

Mildred looked at Tom and then at her teacher. “Lift me, please, Hortensia.”

The teacher lifted her up, and the child put her arms around her and kissed her on the lips. “Ilove you, and I love Tom. I guess you want, and Tom wants that I should go with him for erotic play.”

You are sweet dear. I love you too, and all the other girls and boys. Yes, say goodbye to us and go with Tom.”71

“I love everybody, too,” Mildred said and walked over to Goldie.

Goldie looked at Hortensia, who nodded. She lifted up the child and accepted and returned the kiss given her. She wanted to continue to hold thechild in her arms. She wanted to sit down with thechild in her lap and talk to her. Instead, she sether on the ground with a smile.

Tom and Mildred moved away with their arms about each other.

“See, children, Hortensia said, “I see the children in the next group are already playing 71 This whole notion of erotic play for children doubtless makes many readers uncomfortable, even if we accept at face value Clarke’s contention that such play creates well-adjusted, sexually liberated adults.

Disconcerting, as well, is the intense social pressureput on children to conform — oppression by another name. Interestingly, here and elsewhere, Clarke (unintentionally?)lays a heavier burden on girls than on boys to anticipate and satisfy the wants of others, that is, to self-abnegate their own desires in the course of daily life. For example, Goldie dates Bruin when she does not want to. Yet, Bruin seems free to impose himself on Goldie, despite his clear understanding that she does not want to see him as often as he would like.

tag. One of you be it and play, too.”“I am sorry I called Mildred cute,” Goldie

apologized as the children ran off.“I was a little worried about Mildred,”

Hortensia said thoughtfully. “But then children often passed through a period of partial indifference toward the opposite sex. Some are more apt in sex than others. But Mildred is a nicechild, and she will try and do what’s right. Aboutcalling her cute, children are somewhat primitive,and we have to try and keep them balanced. We wanta child to develop his or her own personality. To seek to be different. But it is easy for them to become self-conscious. The animal instinct in a child is strong. Anything that makes a child set herself apart in her own mind, like thinking that she is cuter than another child, makes a child tooindividualistic in a sort of possessive way. It isn’t easy to train a child. Children like to showoff, and we encourage them to do so to please others, but we try to show them why it’s wrong to show off just to please themselves. A child has every potential evil in him.”

“You mean,” Moonbeam drew into the conversation, “that as a child develops, he passesthrough all the stages from the slimy fish that crawls to land to become an animal. A child in itsgrowth becomes one animal after another and finally a monkey, and then a man. And then, when he becomes a man, he still has to go through man’sdevelopment. He has to pass through being a caveman, murderer, be highly possessive and selfish and all those horrors.”

“It’s physical, too, you know, as well as

mental. It’s all right,” Moonbeam’s eyes followed Goldie’s, “the less supervision we give the children in the games, the better. As I was saying— I hope I’m not boring you. I’m so interested inmy work. Physically a child, as you know, reaches a phase in their development, usually a little younger than Mildred, when they are interested in themselves physically more than in others. That isthe time when children in the old days used to start playing with themselves. They say that practically no children grew to manhood or womanhood without indulging in that to some extent. It was not bad unless the child carried itto extremes.”

“But,” Goldie interrupted, “the parents and teacher made it worse than it was by telling tall tales to the children about it and making them think it was a terrible sin.”

“Oh, yes, it made the children very secretiveand gave them a feeling of shame.” Hortensia shookher head. “Children went through a terrible time with their strong natural impulses, which they fought against and succumbed to with the aftermathof shame. You know, some experts have figured thatthe efficiency, self-assurance, and happiness of the race was lowered as much as fifty percent because of that evil.”

“What in the world,” Goldie said, her voice exasperated, “was wrong with the educators in those days? Why couldn’t they see the harm they were doing to children? Here is a normal child with a healthy sex impulse, that heaven-given impulse that can give it so much happiness. They took a healthy, happy thing and made something

nasty and furtive about it. They took the cleanestthing in the world and made it dirty. Oh, I get fired up every time I think about it. It was so utterly stupid! She looked about at the little group that had gathered around her and smiled apologetically for her outburst.

“Thank goodness out ignorance does not punishchildren that way any longer,” Hortensia said slowly. “Their idea seemed to be that if they let a child follow his or her sex impulses, the youngster would grow into a sex maniac or what they called a pervert. Of course, there is really no such thing as a pervert. But what they did not understand was that repression and not healthy participation was what causes sex trouble in society. These sweet children of ours with their clear, unashamed eyes. Can anyone say that they are not better with their love games than they would be without them? And we adults, how happy weare to give and receive in our sex life. Do you know any single one of us who can’t concentrate during our six work hours because our mind is tormented by suppressed desires?”

“I can have any man I want,” Goldie answered for the company, “and any man who wants me can have me. I never have starved for a kiss in my life, and, United forbid, that I should let any man go hungry for me. How unkind that would be.”

Hortensia glanced at her wristwatch. “Fifteenminutes more of running around and jumping. Then there is a half-hour of storytelling. A teacher tells a story, and then some child will volunteer to tell one. You know, I like the stories the children tell best. They tell some weird ones,

believe me.”“When do they have their love games?”

Moonbeam asked.“They come right after the storytelling. But

the story period will give you a good chance to study the children while they are sitting still. They are such lovely, dear things. Be sure and stay here for the stories. And I know you will want to see the love games. It will bring back to you that important part of your education, and thechildren are so sweet in it.”

Chapter 18

An artificial cloud to shelter the children and their guests began gathering in the sky, and Goldie and the others sat down on the grass. One of the teachers remained standing. “Children, I have received many requests to tell another one ina series of Sinbad, the sailor, stories. Now, those of you who want to smoke will get out your cigarettes and pipes and make yourself comfortable. I shall begin. Jane, I don’t think itis comfortable for Billy the way you are leaning so against him. There is no support for his back, and perhaps he is being kind not to tell you. Keepyour arm around him, if you wish, but sit up a little more. Thank you, dear.

“I am sorry, Billy. I am always forgetting things.”

“Have you thought, Jane, what name you want to give yourself when you grow up?”

“I have not made up my mind yet, Lovely Night. Your name is nice.”

“Thank you, dear. Now to turn to our old friend, Sinbad.” The teacher began to story that Goldie thought she had heard years and years ago when she was a child. But she found it interesting. She joined in the polite applause of the children and their guests when it was finished. Then she waited with anticipation for one of the children to volunteer a story. When Lovely Night finished her story, several children jumped to their feet. They stood and looked at each other, and then all sat down again.

Lovely Night smiled. “I think June got to her

feet first, children. So, I think she should be the one to tell a story. It was nice of the rest of you to sit down when you saw that others wantedto tell a story. But maybe June was a little more thoughtful of others in not rising so quickly. Introduce yourself to the guests, June.”

“Fellow Immortals, my child name is June. I think when I grow up, I shall choose the name of Hayden. I think I should make that my difference. That that is the sort of person. I should be. The fizz in soda pop, and when you squeeze me, I emit a shower of vitamins. Lovely Night, you told me that I am the sort of girl that when I am sleepingdreams all the time because I just have to be doing something.

“Tell, the guests, June, why you also like your child name.”

“I like the name June because it was the month when I was born. Months are like people, different kinds of people, and June is always doing things. The winter is all over, and everything is growing like mad. Leaves on the trees waving at the sun and flowers busy making themselves smell sweet and the sun lighting all its candles.” June stopped. “I’ve forgotten all about my story.”

“There is still time to tell it,” Lovely Night said.

“Once upon a time back in the old, bad days, there lived a pretty girl in an ugly house. The house was on one of those ugly streets like you see pictures of over in the Exhibit House. Every house was different because people did not work

together in those days,72 and there weren’t any trees on the street, and there wasn’t anything in the looks of the street and the house to make anybody feel glad or want to be kind. But this girl was kind because she not only had a pretty face but also was pretty inside. She felt that sheloved everybody, and she wanted to tell them all about herself and ask them all about themselves. And they couldn’t understand her and did not trusther and lied to her. She gave the girl next door her biggest doll, but the girl never gave her evenone of her small dolls. She did not mind that so much. It was that she wanted to find someone who would share what was inside of her, but the girl next door laughed when she tried to explain how she felt. She found that she could not tell the truth about herself to anybody. She just had to keep feeling lonely inside.

“One day —”The story went on, and Goldie felt that she

wanted to take the child in her arms. She knew that child was trying to express the inner life ofthe uncivilized peoples who lived in the old days.And further than that, she was trying to express the yearning of her own heart and the desire for love. The girl’s thoughts and language were maturefor her age. Surely, even Immortal children did that usually have such thoughts. She would ask

72 One of the great truths that Marx held out was that in modern society, all labor is collaborative. That is, from extracting raw materials, through transportation, manufacture, and distribution to consumers, it takes thousands to make even the simplest object. In fact, parts of United’s economic system read like a paean to socialist, central planning, although admittedly under a political entity more benevolent than was the Soviet Union.

Lovely Night about the child later.When June finally finished her story, Lovely

Night announced that it was time for the love games. “Yesterday, you picked your love mates. Today I am going to ask you boys to line up. That’s it. Now you girls lined up below the boys. Sonia, you are first. Start with Robert and give him the best kiss you can. Then go to Billy and down the line and kiss each boy. Mary, you follow Sonia and then the rest of the girls. You have played this before. We’ll find first which girl kisses best and then which boy kisses best. The best girl and the best boy will be love mates. Then the second-best boy and girl and so on. Now some of you girls and boys are going to be chosen last. Are you going to feel badly about that?”

All of the children answered, “No.”“Mary, you tell us why you won’t feel badly

if you are not one of the best.”“I won’t feel badly because whoever did

better is a fellow Immortal and that should make me glad. Besides, I’ll ask the best girl to show me how she does it.”

“That’s right, Mary. There are all kinds of kisses, as you know. There is the teasing kiss. But teasing should always end in fulfillment, or it becomes immoral. There is the romantic kiss, where a boy and girl’s lips sigh and linger. Thereis the passionate kiss, having all and taking all.But enough. Let’s go.”

The children began their game or lesson rather seriously. They seemed more anxious to achieve perfection in their art than to derive pleasure in its practice. But gradually, their

kisses became less studied and more spontaneous. Occasionally, Lovely Night made a suggestion or passed a compliment. The best girl and boy were chosen and then the second-best couple, and the line began to melt as couples moved off toward thepalms and disappeared from view. But sometimes, Lovely Night interrupted a couple. “You are just being polite to each other. Let me explain. Wait and choose a partner from those I detain. Where one wants the other, you still should go and do your best to please, but where neither wants the other, it isn’t necessary. If you do not give pleasure to another, then you kept the other from finding it elsewhere.”

Finally, there were the couples left whom Lovely Night had detained. These children rather quickly found a partner that they liked and moved away with their arms around one another.

“Is it still the same as when I was a child?”Goldie asked. “You still let the children find outthings for themselves?”

“Yes, we think privacy shows good taste. Of course, the children talk among themselves, and sometimes they ask me questions. Sometimes we finda child who has an unwholesome complex and shows an unhealthy embarrassment. We are careful to findthe cause because, of course, any deficiency in a child or adult has a cause behind it. But few children need encouragement. Our children turn as naturally to lovemaking as they do from sucking milk from their bottle to partaking of more solid food. Gradually, naturally, and as beautifully as a flower opens its petals to the sun, a child accepts this gift of nature. There is the same

beauty in both.“Do you feel that some children become too

interested?”“Oh, some are more intense. You take a child

like June. She is a very positive child. In the old days, she probably would have made speeches for women’s rights.73 Or she might have become a missionary and desires to go to some difficult anddangerous place and pour out herself to others there. She wants to give herself, to fling herself. One night we had a bad storm here. The next morning, June came to me and told me what shehad wanted to do when the storm was raging. She had wanted to take all her clothes off and go out into the night and have the wind and rain lash andwhip her body.”

“What did you tell her?”“I told her the next time it stormed like

that to follow her impulse. In the old days, June would abuse herself. Now, she is enjoying herself with Robert. But an hour from now, she will be almost as intense riding the roller coaster or playing some game. And tomorrow morning, she will be studying hard in class because she is so anxious to be a good Immortal. I can’t have favorites, but I could eat June up.”

“Me, too,” Goldie answered.“You’ll see the children again at supper. I

imagine that now you want to wander about and try and find old landmarks. Perhaps you will want to see some of our classrooms and exhibits. I know you want to talk with our breeders.” She smiled.

73 From at least 1915, Clarke actively supported the Suffragette Movement from the pulpit and at mass meetings.

“The boys probably as well as the girls.”“You aren’t?” Moonbeam asked.“No, I’m not. But I had a sort of way with

children, so I asked for another sixth. I am on myfifth year of my second six now. I am still tryingto decide whether it would be selfish to ask for six more or if it is best for United that I do. I want to stay. I don’t know. My colleagues say I should, and they would not be kind at the expense of United.”

“I hope it works out that you do, dear.” Goldie kissed her. The other guests had drifted away, and there was only Goldie and Moonbeam left.

“Here comes my date looking for me.” Lovely Night smiled a welcome to a boy who was approaching. “Hello, Pleiad. Kiss Moonbeam and Goldie from the adult world. Pleiad is a breeder.”

“You still come pretty from over the sea, don’t you? Pleiad reached his arms about both Moonbeam and Goldie and drew them toward him and kissed them.

Lovely Night studied the action. “Pleiad, ourdate can keep. Perhaps —”

“No, darling, I’m sleeping with you tonight. These two luscious creatures want to look over some of the rest of us before picking their choice. That’s so, isn’t it? He turned his head, first to one side and then to the other to question Moonbeam and Goldie whom he still held inhis arms.

“You are very polite,” Moonbeam answered, “and I am sure you would be very nice, but I really do want to look about a bit. I think Goldiedoes too. Do run along with your Lovely Night.

Moonbeam broke away from him and took Goldie’s arm.

Moonbeam and Goldie strolled off toward some buildings at the side of the playground. “These are exhibit buildings and classrooms,” Goldie saidas they came to them. Want to go in?”

“You would want to, you intellectual nitwit. It’s your Bluebeard’s influence.”

“Don’t you want to?” Goldie asked.“Oh, I’m willing to be bored. Come on. Say,

this must be the exhibit that June was telling about. See, it is all pictures of things from the old days.”

“They are reproductions and enlargements of actual photographs that must have survived the wars. Good gracious, Moonbeam, just think of a person living on a street like that. Didn’t they have any time for beauty at all? Look, here is a stove and right next to it a house, and there isn’t a tree on the whole block, and no two housesare of the same plan.74 Look at those stamps. I know there were gasoline pumps. Holy United! Couldanything be uglier?”

“Just so the barbarians had something to keepout the rain and snow. Just so they had a place they could put a counter in where they could sell something to each other. I imagine that whole towns didn’t have a single fountain in it, and we can’t go out on any street that we do not hear

74 Wood did not like this wording: “On page 187, I changed ‘and no two houses are of the same plan’ to ‘and no two houses are harmonious with each other’ because I felt that the first phrase suggested that houses, all alike and of thesame plan would be beautiful, which is not what I think you meant.”

water singing. They thought enough of it to take apicture of it. The poor things!

[Lines are missing]

. . . germs. Yes, let’s get out of here.”“Hello, you two.” Moonbeam addressed two

children outside the Exhibit Building. “My name isMoonbeam, and this is Goldie.”

“My child name is Pat, and this is Saul. I amhaving a hell of a time with him.”

“Why, what’s the matter?’“Oh, he wants to go on the roller coaster,

and I want some more erotic play.”“But, Pat,” the boy gave a sigh, “you act as

if it were a wrestling match, and you bite. There.I hurt your feelings. I am sorry. You are very sweet, and I love you. Come on back to the palms, and I’ll show that you are as nice as I think you are.” He kissed her.

“No, you want to go to the roller coaster.”“I can’t understand women, Moonbeam and

Goldie. One minute Pat wants me to kiss her, and the next moment, she wants me to bite her. Hard, Imean. Are you grown-up girls like that?”

“N-o, not exactly, Saul,” Goldie answered. “You see, Pat, love is more exhausting to a boy than to a girl. [Illegible] creatures in most respects, so we girls sort of learn to let them take most of the initiative. I think by the time you are grown up, and choose your name, and at thegarter presentation ceremony are given your first garter — Well, by then I think you will realize all the best ways to please a boy.”

“Thank you, Goldie, for your help. Lift me upto kiss you. Now you, Moonbeam. Saul and I don’t know what to do now. He knows I want more love, and I know that he wants the roller coaster. So, he says to come back to the palms, and I say to goto the coaster. So, what shall we do?”

That’s easy for a grown-up. You stand here, Saul, and you stay there, Pat. I’ll toss the garter. If the buckle falls toward Saul, you go tothe roller coaster. If it falls toward Pat, you goto the palms.” Goldie lifted her skirt and removedher garter. She whirled it in the air.

The two children watched it fall. “I’m sorry,Saul,” Pat said.

Saul took Pat’s arm, and the two children moved off toward the palms.

“Sweet, kids, aren’t they?” Moonbeam commented.

“I don’t think Saul minded so much.”“Me either, and perhaps Pat can thank you.

The way he looked at you when you were taking off your garter.”

Goldie laughed. “The important thing. It’s nice, though. It shows the boy has real potentialities. He will give pleasure to lots of girls and make the world a still better place to live in.”

Chapter 19

The vacation went very quickly for both of the girls. The first night they picked up a coupleof breeder boys. They like them so well that they did not find time for any other lovers, although Moonbeam was so very pleased with her boy that sheinsisted that Goldie enjoy him, too. She thought that he was very nice and full of fun, but she didnot know that she liked him any better than her own boy, Jimmy.

Jimmy introduced Goldie to a mother girl withwhom he palled around with a good deal. Her name was Babbie, and she was soon to present United with a child. Babbie kissed Goldie and sat beside her. “I know you are going to ask, so I’ll tell you.” Babbie smiled. “In two months on Fourthday at Fifthhour and it is to be a boy.

“How nice. I wonder if I’ll ever meet him?” Goldie mused.

“Probably. I think we all meet in time. With all eternity to do so, we are almost bound to. He may spend a night with you. I hope so.”

“So do I,” Goldie answered politely. “Tell me, do you have any idea who the father might be?”

“You know, Goldie, it isn’t quite ethical fora mother to try and figure that out. It would be apossessive thought. We only nurse our babies five days, as you know. You feel a little funny at first about knowing that the child henceforth is aUnited child and that you, probably the next time you see it, you will not recognize it as being theone you gave. Of course, a boy never knows what child he was father to. In the old days, before I

became a mother, they used to match off a pair. Asyou know, they felt that certain qualities in a girl should be matched with certain qualities in aboy to produce the finest of offspring. But we know better than that now. So now, we are just picked because United thinks we can produce the best breeds, and we take our lovers for pleasure just as you do who live across the sea. But you know all this, of course.”

“It is the greatest honor that can come to a boy or girl to be set aside as a breeder. No one can render greater service to United than a motheror father.”

“It is nice of the rest of you to look at us that way. But we really do not deserve any credit.Especially the boys don’t.” Babbie smiled at Jimmy. “They always are able to keep their attractive figure. It is funny the way the boys treat us when we are my way. They think they neverare letting on that they don’t find us just as glamorous as — well, as your cute little body, Goldie.”

“You are always glamorous, Babbie,” Jimmy said. “And I want a date with you too.”

“Wait three months until I am lithe again.”“But three months without —” Goldie’s face

expressed horror.Both Babbie and Jimmy laughed. “You, goose,

Goldie!” Jimmy exclaimed.Goldie looked at them, not understanding the

reason for their amusement.“You tell her, Jimmy.” Babbie choked.“You forget, Goldie, our guests. Right now,

Babbie —”

“Oh, yes, of course. You must think I am a goose. I never thought about the way the boys are always telling me of their visits to Children’s Isle.”

“I actually have to hide sometimes, Goldie, in order not to be unkind.”

Jimmy glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s time for your swim, isn’t it, Babbie?”

“So you want to get rid of me.”“You know I don’t.”“I must go for my swim at that. I am supposed

now to have fifteen minutes of it every day, Goldie.” She reached over and kissed Goldie and got to her feet. “Have fun, you two,” she called over her shoulder as she moved away.

“I just hope my mother is as nice as she,” Goldie said.

“Yes, I’m very fond of Babbie,” Jimmy said. “How about us going for a swim, too.”

“Okay,” Goldie answered.Goldie and Moonbeam took the night plane back

to New York and slept on it until morning. They had breakfast together and then parted. Moonbeam had a rehearsal at the theater, and Goldie went straight to her office.

When Goldie arrived at her apartment that afternoon, she found the door open. “Hello,” she said. What are you doing?”

“My name is Barkie.”“Mine is Goldie.”“I must apologize. I saw a friend off to the

North Pole during my work six this morning, so I am working this afternoon. I am almost finished. Oh, I’m putting in one of the toosie machines.”

“What in the United is that?”“You mean, you don’t know? You must not use

your radio much.”“I’m just back from a vacation at Children’s

Isle.”“I see. United kept it as a surprise gift.

They announced it for the first time two days ago,and we’ll have one installed in every apartment inthe world by the end of the week.”

“Another gadget. What’s it for?”“No more hand manicures. There, I’m finished.

Now I’ll show you. The machine for the fingers will be installed next week. Let me take off your shoes and stockings so I can show you how this works. My, I think I’ll only work my six afternoons from now on.”

“It isn’t a United suggestion.”“No, I suppose it wouldn’t be right not to

concentrate on my work. You press this button; thefootrest jumps out. Here, put your foot on it. We’ll start with the big toe. It goes in like this. Can you feel how the machine automatically adjusts itself to the size of your toe and protects all but the nail?”

Goldie nodded.“Now press with that big, little toe of

yours. See, it starts the file.”“It tickles.” Goldie giggled.“But only pleasantly.”“Yep, it feels nice. It’s stopped.”“Your toe is finished. Pull it out and take a

look at it.”“Perfect. Better than I could do by hand and

so quick.”

“Sure, a couple of seconds a toe, ten secondsa foot. And it can’t file too much. It is adjustedas finely as a watch. The other foot. Fun, hey? There, let me see them. Nice. You can stick those toes in my life any time you want to. One of the nicest things about your feet is their connections.”

“Now, Barkie, you are slighting my toes. You are so interested in the connections.”

“A curved line is the shortest distance between two feet.

“You are very impetuous, you crazy boy.”He looked up at her, questioning.“It certainly is a new approach.” She smiled

at him.“He smiled back, reassured. “The gadget

deserves a christening.”“It is a nice gadget.” She bent and ran her

fingers through his hair. Her other hand moved slowly to her garter, and she snapped it.

Barkie took her to dinner, but after the mealby mutual consent, they parted, and Goldie returned alone to her apartment. Neither one of them mentioned a future date. They both seemed to feel that their little adventure was complete justas it was, and they wanted somehow to leave it that way. They parted, each assuring the other that their memory would be pleasant.

“These little enchanting episodes are lovely sets of friendship, Barkie,” Goldie said.

“It was a nice little prank. I’ll smile and hum at my installing of toosies as I remember it.”

Back in her apartment, Goldie was listening to her radio when the television rang. It was

Bruin to remind her of their coming weekend in Iowa. Goldie hoped that her face did not betray her. She had clean forgotten the engagement. When Bruin’s face faded, she called up Bluebeard to cancel a date she had with him for the same weekend. She wanted to give Bluebeard a chance to pick some other girl in her place.

Goldie and Bruin arrived at the experimental farm late in the afternoon. Bruin gave her a couple of quick hugs and kisses in their room and told Goldie he wanted to show her his little plot.

“Won’t it keep until morning?” she asked him.“Why, if you would rather wait, dear.”“No, of course not,” she answered, puzzled at

something new in Bruin.“Here it is. It just goes to that strip of

grass.”“And you spend six hours a day in this little

plot. How neat it is. Everything tagged like each little stalk was very important.

“It is extremely important. At least to me. See, these plants are all of the same variety and planted at the same time. But there are different mixtures of chemicals around their little roots. This is my favorite. See how straight and proud itgrows. See, I have named it.”

“I know, you’ve named it, Goldie. How nice.”“I’m sorry, Goldie, but I didn’t.”Goldie laughed. “Don’t feel embarrassed about

it, darling. You called it Stalwart.”“It’s a brave, manly little plant. Come over

and see my corn. Not quite as much of it as in Sahara. You don’t know how anxious I have been to show you my plants. I take such an interest in

them. Now, this —”Goldie followed in around and tried to look

impressed. But she was more conscious of the fact that it was past her usual dinner hour than she was with the plants. She watched Bruin carefully take up a small lump of earth and pulverize it in his finger and then gently put the ground around one of the plants. She could not resist saying, “Now that you have patted the covers about it longneck, darling, kiss it good-night.”

He got to his feet. “You won’t approve, I guess, Goldie, the way I feel over these few feet.It is the first time in my life I have ever had anything that was my own. The plot and everything I put into it is — Well, it’s in the interest of United, isn’t it?”

“I guess you find it hard to stop at the end of six hours.”

“I come back at night to turn on the irrigation. That is when there are dry spells.”

“I see.”“It is time for dinner. Tonight, you know, is

a dirt party. You will like that.”“I had forgotten. Yes, really, I had.”They had dinner together. When they had

ordered dessert, Bruin excused himself. He said hewanted to turn on the irrigation. “I’ll see the automatic turn off, so I won’t be but a half-hour.You will be watching the floorshow. You won’t mind?”

“No, Bruin, run along. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Goldie watched him, making his way through the tables on his way to the exit. “I’ll be

darned,” she breathed. “So, Goldie Furman, you’re not so indispensable as you thought you were. You have lost out to a few cornstalks and a head of cabbage.

It was a good half-hour before Bruin returned. By that time, the restaurant had thinnedout considerably. Bruin came in hurriedly. “Sorry I was so long. It is warm out and a good growing night.”

“That’s fine,” Goldie answered with a slight hint of sarcasm. Most of the diners have gone.”

“They are changing to play clothes. This is dirt night. Shall we go to our apartment?”

Goldie motioned to their waiter. He caught her gesture and came over.

“The dinner was excellent,” Goldie smiled at him. “Bruin and I are grateful to you.”

Thank you, dear. I hope you both have fun in the dirt.”

“I suppose, Bruin,” Goldie remarked later as she was getting into a playsuit at the apartment, “that these dirt parties are about the same thing as beach parties.”

“Just the same, Goldie, except that you get wonderfully dirty. They keep one large field plowed just for Fifthnights. The novelty of it is the dirt, I guess, getting it into your ears and hair, wallowing in it. There is a moon tonight, sothey will have to use clouds to make it pitch dark. If you are ready, let’s go.”

Goldie followed Bruin, marveling. They had been in the apartment while she had changed, and Bruin had hardly done more than give her a perfunctory kiss. It was not, she was sure, that

he just thought that the evening was young. She knew enough about what was ahead to know that she and Bruin were bound to be separated when they reached the playground. Perhaps, though, she wouldfind that there was something about these dirt parties that she did not know about.

The dirt party was pretty much as she expected that it would be. They were a little early, and there was a community sing that lasted for about a half-hour. Then artificial clouds, very black, obscured the moon. Goldie crawled awayfrom Bruin, half-expecting that he would make someeffort to detain her, even if he were not supposedto do so at such an affair. But he didn’t. Some boy started piling great handfuls of dirt on her back. She stopped crawling, and her new companion kept heaping it on until the weight of the dirt was so heavy that, laughing, she permitted herselfto collapse into the soft hot ground. She closed her eyes to keep the dirt from getting him them, but she delighted to feel it on her face and in her ears and hair. It was all such a primitive experience, unable to see her companion, his silence and her own, and the earth about her and on her, and the feeling that she was some plant with its roots in the ground, and that she had gone back through the centuries, and she was whereshe belonged, in the earth, reaching into it for life and for ecstasy.75

Later in the girls’ shower room, she closed

75 Clarke has described this rather weird return to the womb— or perhaps mock burial — experience for those who would not die except through accidents. Apparently, Immortals had no sense of claustrophobia and could breathe when covered with dirt.

her eyes and played all over herself the perfumed soap from the soap spray. It would be good to be clean again, and yet, there was some regret to part from the heavy, warm love that clung to her.

Bruin was in the apartment when she arrived. He was more like the old Bruin, even with a hint of his old possessive feeling. He asked for a similar date a month hence, which she gladly gave him. He made love to her as she responded to him, although forced to use some of the tricks that sheheld in reserve for occasions when interest had tobe somewhat pretended.

Bruin saw Goldie off to her plane. She left him feeling that he would not stand watching the plane disappear. She fancied that in a very few minutes, he would be back to his little plot whispering as tender endearment to his cabbage andcorn as he ever had to her. So, even Bruin’s lovemaking had turned out as all United love escapades do. It left both of them still belongingto United.

Goldie and Bluebeard were spending a weekend camping on the top of Mount Monadnock.76 They thought it would be fun to rough it. There were only a couple of blankets between them and the large rock that they had discovered. They had chosen it for its concave shape, and they discovered that they just fitted in it. But it wasa hard bed, and they had only caught little snatches of sleep. At four o’clock in the morning,they both gave up all pretense at sleeping, and Goldie reached for her cigarettes. Their talk

76 Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau wrote about Mount Monadnock. It is in New Hampshire.

drifted back to Bruin.“I am so relieved,” Goldie said. “He really

was a problem. Of course, his possessive feeling toward his plants is really immoral, I suppose, but plants don’t get bored.”

“He just seems to have to own something, doesn’t he?” Bluebeard drew Goldie closer. Warm enough?”

“There is one little ridge. There — It was competing with my spinal column, but it is somewhat to one side now. I suppose all of us feelpossessive toward United. I suppose that I get a great deal of satisfaction over the feeling that it is all mine. Everything belongs to me, this darn hard rock, even the sun when we watch it risein an hour or so, all the streets and restaurants,the planes, the ships, your apartment you live in as much as the apartment I live in and all the other apartments. Even the people I meet are mine,Bluebeard.”

“Yes, Goldie, every man you meet is yours. Every girl I meet is mine. The clothes on their back are as much mine as theirs. They just went into a store and asked for what they wanted the same as I do. We own everything, yes, even ourselves, but we own it all in common.”

“If suddenly there was a scarcity of things, would we become selfish?”

“I don’t know. There are some things which represent more work hours, and we are considerate about such things. You like to go to work in the plane, but you often take the moving walk.”

“It is that Bruin has never learned to love United as United. Maybe instead of being too

possessive, he isn’t possessive enough. Those children were cute on Children’s Isle. If I were abarbarian, I would have picked one out and wanted to keep it, carry it off with me to my apartment, be its mother. But they are all my children, Bluebeard, every one of them. I love no one less. I love them all more.”

“And they all love you, too, Goldie. They lived in a hate-less, fearless world. I only hope that your Bruin, at the end of the six years, if he finds he must turn his little plot over to another, will be able to do so feeling that it is still his as all things in United are. At any rate, his happiness and contentment are solved forthe present, and you do not have to fret your pretty head about him. Moonbeam’s problem is solved, too. She has her theater. She has wormed her way into happiness.

“Look, Bluebeard, the night pales there in the East. Soon we shall see the sun. Oh, I like this, after all.”

“It will find us here in each other’s arms.”“Yes, Goldie, if the sun looks, it will find

what I find in your eyes.” He bent over her. I find only trust in your eyes.”

“I wish you would kiss me and take me now, Bluebeard. I am so free, and you are so honest, and we both are so clean up here on this hill withthe early wind and the sky and — see, it is comingto watch us — the morning sun.”

Assuming that there are no more chapters,

Clarke ends his novel here — abruptly and unsatisfactorily — after all, there was no real conflict in his utopia, so no gripping literary resolution was possible — a point that Clarke himself made several times in his story.

Perhaps a dystopian novel would have been more successful, and this manuscript has threads that he could have pulled in dystopian directions.He chose not to; dystopias were not naturally in his wheelhouse, even in the darkest days of World War II.

As he had for the First World War, Dr. Clarkereceived a draft card for the Second. He was part of the Fourth Registration, often referred to as the “old man’s registration,” which was conducted on April 27, 1942. The records include the registrant’s age, birth date, birthplace, residence, employer information, and physical description. Interestingly, the card from the earlier war listed his eyes as “brown.” Now they are “blue.”77

77 Ancestry.com. U.S., World War II Draft Registration Cards, 1942[database on-line] (Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc.,2010). Original data: United States, Selective Service System. Selective Service Registration Cards, World War II: Fourth Registration. Records of the Selective Service System, Record Group Number 147. National Archives and Records Administration.

Doctor Time: A Novel of a Thousand Years Hence. Fantasy Novel by J. Calvitt Clarke

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