Ordeal and Crisis
For seven "wakes" I remained in the hospital. Even though I did not at all like the place, with its automatic service and its total absence of living attendants, still I lived in hourly dread of being removed and sent back to Professor Tan Trum's home. I knew that, true to his word, he had put in an application to have me taken out; but what I did not know was that a thousand formalities had to be observed before the application could be granted. There were blanks to fill out, and signatures to secure, and affidavits to sign, and fees to pay, and half a score of clerks to affix their approval; hence, while Tan Trum and Loa were doing their frantic best to obtain the release permit, the "wakes" continued to slip past, and I remained in the hospital. In the course of time, indeed, Tan Trum's application was duly approved—but not before I had already been discharged as cured.
It is a testimony to a naturally strong constitution that I was able to escape in seven "wakes"; for my worries and torments while in that hospital were innumerable.... I shall not describe them all; let me only say that the newspaper reporters alone were enough to give me a daily attack of chills and fever. The gentlemen of the press, thanks to the special privileges of their profession, did not confine themselves to "Visitors' Hour"; at any time of the day or night they would rouse me from pleasant slumbers, in order to secure my personal story for the Wakely Blare, or in order to learn my views on the topics of the day, such as the reasons for the peculiar charms of the women of Wu, or the desirability of improving men's clothing styles by further enlarging the V-slit on the back.
Naturally, I was irritated by such questions, and persistently refused to reply, for I did not see how my work for the Ventilation Company qualified me to express myself on native fashions, feminine beauty, or politics. The reporters, however, seemed to feel otherwise; and, in no way discouraged by my failure to speak, they were so obliging as to make my opinions for me when I would not mention them myself. Thus, I was later shown long articles in which I was described as "speaking volubly," and in which I read the views credited to me on subjects so diverse as "The Merits of Thuno Flâtum," "The Natural Superiority of Wu to Zu," "The Future of the Scootscoot," "Why I Am in Love With Wrinkles," etc.
It was with intense misgivings that I awaited my release, for how now avert the day of reckoning? How save myself from the fatal necessity of returning to Tan Trum's home? Luckily, this problem was solved for me by the Ventilation Company. Upon presenting myself for work, I was informed that the Company provided living quarters for its Inspectors in a great dormitory, so that they might be subject to call at any hour. While it was not compulsory to reside there, I had not the least hesitation about my course. I hastily dictated a letter to Tan Trum and his daughter, thanking them for past favors, but assuring them that, "much to my regret, the exigencies of my new work make it impossible for me to continue to accept your hospitality." I also promised that, as soon as I was able, I would pay back the sum I owed Tan Trum.
Unhappily, this was not the last I was to see of the Professor, nor of the Professor's daughter. But before reporting my next encounter with them, let me tell of my new duties for the Ventilation Company.
As was to be expected, in view of the doubling of my salary, my new labors were much less exacting than the old. It was my duty to travel from place to place, inspecting the ventilating tubes and outlets, and removing obstructions (this being assumed to be my specialty); and in order to accomplish this task, wherein I was pretty much my own master, I had to ride one of the Company-owned little vehicles, or "scootscoots," which I so intensely loathed. However, I found it easy enough to run the machine, whose driving mechanism, which was guaranteed as "moron-proof," was as simple as that of an elevator. But I was never able to balance myself on it cross-legged with the native ease, which came only of long practice; nor could I ever quite master my dread of an early and sudden "turnover," for I constantly observed collisions on all main thoroughfares; and since there were no traffic rules, speeding drivers shooting recklessly at one in all directions, survival was a matter of sheer good luck.
But by taking roundabout ways and choosing the less frequented thoroughfares, I succeeded in reducing the risk, till I estimated that I was about as safe as a voyager through a submarine zone in wartime, or a lone transoceanic aviator. So fortunate was I, indeed, that in the first few months I only suffered half a dozen minor mishaps. Except for some bruises on the head and shoulders, an abrasioned knee and a sprained wrist, I might be said to have escaped unscathed.
In the course of my new activities, I had an opportunity to inspect the ventilation in all its details, learning by precisely what system of motors, pumps, valves, and pipes the fresh air was forced down from the Overworld and distributed throughout Wu, somewhat as the lungs distribute oxygen to the body. Being an engineer not only by profession but by inclination, I made a more careful study of the details than duty required, until I had mastered the facts as a watchmaker masters the mechanism of a clock. But as yet I had no thought beyond my own natural mechanical interests, and had no anticipation of the striking part my newly acquired knowledge was to play.
It did, indeed, occur to me that, by exploring the ventilating connections with the outer world, I might find a way to escape from Wu. But, remembering my harrowing experiences on my first attempt at escape and knowing that a second attempt might not end so fortunately, I decided to bide my time and make no rash or premature dash for freedom.
Had it not been for one fact, I should have found life as Ventilating Inspector almost pleasant. The fly in the ointment was the menace of Loa. I use the word "menace" advisedly, for this is what it seemed to me. Not even by removing to the Ventilation Dormitory could I relieve myself of her attentions! Of course, I scrupulously avoided her whenever possible—but this proved to avail me little. Before I had been working in my new position for ten "wakes," disconcerting rumors began to reach my ears.
"Well, partner," another Inspector exclaimed one day, slapping me on the back with comradely good humor, "we hear you're in luck! Say, invite us to the wedding, won't you? How did you ever find such a lovely girl? So fat and wrinkled, they say! And the daughter of a Second Class professor! Congratulations! May you have fourteen sons, to provide a glorious turnover for our country!"
Naturally I grew indignant at these words, and strenuously denied having matrimonial intentions. But my companions smiled knowingly, nudged one another, and protested, "Oh, you can't fool us! We know! We know! The rumor is everywhere about! You've been engaged for wakes and wakes! Why, the Screamer announced it issue before last!"
"The Screamer—announced it?" I gasped.
"Of course! Can't keep it secret any longer, partner!"
In despair, I sank down upon a seat, my face buried in my hands, my spirit a prey to the darkest melancholy. Apparently everyone was bent on forcing me into a union with Loa!
Meanwhile the girl herself went her way in the blithe assurance that our nuptials would soon be celebrated. Only one "wake" after the ventilating employees mentioned the article in the Screamer, Loa herself visited me in the company of her father.
As they announced themselves unceremoniously into my rooms in the dormitory, they succeeded in cornering me beyond hope of escape.
I noticed that Loa, as she entered, was pouting a little, and was eyeing me reproachfully, and for a moment the wild hope came to me that perhaps she was angry, and had come to release me from the entanglement.
No such optimism, however, was justified. "Why haven't you come to see me all this time, dear?" she began, somewhat accusingly, but in a manner that showed her willingness to be forgiving.
"Now, Loa darling," remonstrated the Professor, "haven't I told you a thousand times that it isn't becoming for a Third Class man to call on a Second Class lady?—no, not even when they're engaged! So, of course, Loa, you must come to him instead. He has a right to feel offended at your neglect."
But I confessed to feeling no offense, and Loa, her resentment quickly dissipated, advanced toward me with a smile.
"See, dear, what I have for you," she announced, taking a little gleaming object from her handbag. "It's all yours! Your wedding ring!"
"My wedding ring?" I ejaculated, feeling ready to sink through the floor.
"Of course," she declared. "Don't you know it's the custom for the lady to give the gentleman a ring?"
"Now, Loa, how could you expect him to know?" demanded Tan Trum reprovingly. "After all, he was born a barbarian, and still isn't familiar with civilized ways."
"Yes, I had forgotten," admitted Loa, apologetically. "Here, dear, is the ring!" And while I sank down in consternation, wishing to fight off the gift but not knowing how to refuse, she slipped a little ruby-studded silver band onto the small finger of my left hand.
"There, dear!" she went on rapturously. "Isn't it beautiful? It's ruby, the color of your heart's blood!"
I mumbled something, expressive neither of thanks nor of appreciation, but apparently my hearers did not quite catch my words. As I snatched at the ring, with the idea of removing it, I was diverted from my purpose by feeling Loa's arms about my neck, and for a moment we were locked in an embrace more satisfying, I hope, to her than to me.
It was Professor Tan Trum who, at this point, unwittingly saved the day.
"Here, my dears," he said, unfolding an enormous document with a silver seal. "Here, my dears, is the license! There are only a few minor details to be filled out."
I do not know why, but some strange, irrational hope flashed into my heart at sight of that document.
Yet as I glanced over the paper, I saw very little to inspire hope. I read that, as my one and only legal wife, I guaranteed to take, Loa, the daughter of Professor Tan Trum; that I agreed to obey the Population Laws and produce as many sons as possible for the benefit of the Fatherland; and that I promised to rear my children and conduct my own married life according to the best accepted principles of Thoughtlessness. At the bottom of the page, I noticed, there was a space for a notary's signature, which had not yet been filled out; and under Loa's name I read, written elaborately in gilded letters, "Eugenically approved!"; while beneath my own name no such inscription appeared.
As delicately as I could, I called this fact to the attention of Professor Tan Trum. But he, as if bent on destroying my last remaining shred of hope, answered me.
"Oh, my dear boy, don't let that worry you! Don't let that worry you at all! A mere formality, I assure you! A fine, stalwart man like you—even if you were born a barbarian—won't have any trouble meeting eugenic requirements. Not the least. In fact, I'm determined to clear away this last technical obstacle at once. So I've a little surprise for you. I've brought the Eugenics Inspector here with us. He's waiting right now in the gallery!"
While I gave a horrified gasp, the Professor went to the door, flung it open, and called to someone outside. And immediately a rat-faced little runt of a native, whose tall pointed hat bore an engraved steel sign, "Eugenics!" entered and bowed low. "Is this the bridegroom?" he inquired, pointing at me.
"Yes, yes," acknowledged the Professor. "Come right this way! My daughter and I will withdraw, leaving you to perform the tests by yourself. We will be waiting outside."
Since there was no choice in the matter, I had to agree to the ordeal. And the Inspector, who declared himself to be a practicing physician, put me through a severe examination, in which he tested my heart, my lungs, and all my other organs by means of a wonderful little instrument which, upon being placed on the skin, immediately registered any pathological condition, by recording the exceedingly faint electrical reactions of the body.
But alas!—he could find nothing wrong with me! "My dear young man," he congratulated me at the conclusion of the test, "you bewilder me! It is rarely that I have come across so perfect a case! I will rate you 99 and 44/100 per cent! From the point of view of Eugenics, you are Grade A!"
Probably the Inspector did not understand why I looked so downcast at this pronouncement, and why I begged, almost forlornly, "But is there no other test? You're sure you can't disqualify me?"
"Have no fear!" he assured me.
And then, glancing at a little document across the room from him, he added, "To be sure, there are a few questions I must ask, in accordance with the law. But they are mere matters of form which, I am certain, will give you no trouble."
Thereupon he began to fling out scores of queries, in regard to my age, my occupation, my father's age, my mother's age, the age of my sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc., when they were "turned over." To all these questions, most of which struck me as utterly silly, I replied as best I could; and always the Inspector would nod with a pleased "Very good!" and congratulate me on my perfect record.
At last he had come to the final question, and inquired, in a perfunctory manner, "Military experience? Military experience of your father, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers?"
"Well," said I, not in the least anticipating the effect my words were to have, "I served among my own people in a World War, being in the Commissary Department for three months. My father never was in any war; neither were my grandfathers nor great-grandfathers, so far as I know."
Suddenly the Inspector shot out of his seat and leaped toward me as though I had confessed complicity in a crime.
"What?" he demanded. "Your family has never been to war? It has no military record at all?"
"My family were all distinguished scholars and scientists."
"Scholars and scientists?" he flung back, wrathfully. "Scholars and scientists? What do they amount to? When did they ever fight for their country? How do you expect, young man, to bring forth a capable progeny to be turned over in the next war unless you have a good fighting ancestry?"
Before this question I remained mute. The first wild surge of hope was beginning to well up in my heart.
"How do you expect, young man," repeated the Inspector, growing more irate every moment, "to bring forth a capable progeny unless you have had a good fighting ancestry? No, sir, I am sorry to say I cannot approve of you as eugenic! To permit your marriage would be to encourage the growth of an unfit, non-combatant population! I regret it very much, sir, but I must stamp your application, 'Disapproved!'"
And, with that, the Inspector made a contemptuous bow, and went stamping out of the room.
A few minutes later, after Loa had heard the news and had left my apartment with heartbroken sobs, I executed a solitary dance of joy. At last I was free, completely free! And how I blessed my father and my father's father for having had no fighting experience!