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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] That night had been worse than the other. He could only watch at a distance. There was no way to communicate with her. When the audience reaction began to clarify itself on the giant thought-screen, Hendley could not watch it. Then the lottery began . . . "I think we can leave the bandages off now," the doctor said. One by one he flexed the fingers of Hendley's left hand. "How does that feel?" "It hurts." "But not too bad, eh? You'll find it stiff for a while, and you'll have to be Page 84 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html a little careful of it, but it's coming along fine. You're lucky. You mend quickly." Only the body mended, Hendley thought. The other, the deeper wound, did not heal. "Tell me something, Doctor," he said abruptly. "What's wrong with me?" "Eh? I just told you. You're coming along much better than we had any right to expect." "I don't mean the hand. I mean-why am I different? Why do I feel things that others don't seem to feel? Not just here in the camp-I know there are some who don't adjust to freedom-but outside, too. Why didn't I fit in? Why did I feel that something was wrong?" The doctor sat gingerly on the edge of the bed in Hendley's room, as if the question made him move with caution. "What makes you think you're different?" "I know I am! Nik was different, too, but not in the same way." "Freedom sickness," the doctor said absently. "But you can't call mine freedom sickness," Hendley argued. "I haven't been here long enough. And I didn't belong in the outside Organization either. I don't belong anywhere! To me the whole system seems wrong, but why am I the only one who feels that way?" "You're not the only one." "Maybe not, but there aren't very many like me. I told you how that Morale Investigator reacted. I was a prize specimen to him. I was something new! That's why I was sent here." The doctor sighed. "This is a little out of my field," he said thoughtfully. "But I think I can make an educated guess about your trouble." "Then guess, for Organization's sake!" "I suspect that your genes failed to respond to the pre-birth treatment in the Genetic Center." 121 "What does that mean?" "Well, you know that the chemistry of the human cell is organized in a very specific pattern. Research proved long ago that artificial mutations could be produced in the genetic material of the cell. What is not so widely known is that the series of tests in the clinics of the Genetic Center, which every expectant mother undergoes in the second month of pregnancy, are actually a course of treatment." "What kind of treatment? And what does this have to do with me? Are you saying that my genes are mixed up?" "In a way. But not exactly." "You're not making sense!" "Be patient." The doctor began to pace the room. His habitual good humor had given way to an absorbed frown. He stopped suddenly before Hendley. "Why do you suppose that Organization society has remained so stable for so many years? Because the system works best for the most people? That doesn't explain it. Human hereditary factors, left to themselves, are too complex. But once it was proved that the basic molecular pattern which determines the direction life will take-determines form, shape, inherited characteristics, temperament, in short makes you what you are-could be altered, the way was clear. Through early treatment unwanted characteristics, psychological as well as physical, could be eliminated. That's why there is virtually no physical deformity or mental illness within the Organization. A tremendous achievement, my friend, but the treatment goes beyond such genetic errors. It is also designed to eliminate unstable personality traits. That's why the Organization has so few anarchists, so few rebels, so few questioning enough to perceive that they might be unhappy or their lives useless." The doctor Page 85 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html paused, then added, "The treatment is not infallible, of course." Hendley stared at him. "It failed with me? I'm one of the-the imperfect ones?" "I wouldn't use that word. I'd use the term-normal. For some reason or other your genetic material remained unaffected by the treatment. You're a natural man." For several minutes there was silence in the room while Hendley pondered the doctor's words. At last he said, "It's too late now, isn't it?" "Yes. I understand late treatment has been tried-even experiments with adults-but without success." Hendley rose and went to the window. It was late afternoon and the sun was low above the horizon. He regarded its fiery beauty with bitterness. "What about you?" he asked the doctor. "You know all this, but you're happy." 122 The doctor smiled. "I couldn't be anything else. I'm . . . made that way." "And I'm a misfitl" "There are different ways of looking at that." The doctor crossed the room to stand beside Hendley at the window. The smile was back on his lips, but it remained pensive. "Do you want to know what I think?" "What?" "I envy you." The phrase seemed disturbingly familiar. Hendley tried to remember who else had spoken it to him. The answer popped unexpectedly into his mind. The Morale Investigator had voiced a similar envy on the morning Hendley departed for the Freeman Camp. He did not smile at the irony. * * * It was an hour after sunset when Hendley saw the visitor. He was on his way to the main Rec Hall, being unable to stay away on the night of the show in spite of the torment he knew he would endure if Ann was on stage. The glimpse of a red sleeve emblem out of the comer of his eye was enough to make him jump hastily and precariously off the moving walk. Regaining his balance, he looked around eagerly. The familiar identification symbol stood out clearly among the mass of otherwise identical white uniforms. This was the first visitor Hendley had seen since his arrival in the Freeman Camp, and he knew that it was more than curiosity, more than the memory of an experience shared by the stranger, which made his heart pound as he began to follow the red beacon on the visitor's arm. The man seemed awed by the excitement and activity swirling around him. Hendley wondered if he, too, had gazed about so eagerly on his first night, if his eyes had been alight with the same glitter, if his lips had been parted in a continuous expression of wonder. The visitor was a solidly hewn block of a man with coarse black hair, the outline of a heavy dark beard, and thighs and biceps so thick they stretched the unusually loose-fitting coverall taut. But in spite of his muscular bulk, the stranger moved with surprisingly light, quick steps. Standing still, he looked heavy and ponderous; in motion he conv yed an [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |