Anthem
and no anger, and no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked us:
“Where have you been?” we thought of our glass box and of our
light, and we forgot all else. And we answered:
“We will not tell you.”
The oldest did not question us further. They turned to the two
youngest, and said, and their voice was bored:
“Take our brother Equality 7-2521 to the Palace of Corrective
Detention. Lash them until they tell.”
So we were taken to the Stone Room under the Palace of Corrective
Detention. This room has no windows and it is empty save for an
iron post. Two men stood by the post, naked but for leather
aprons and leather hoods over their faces. Those who had brought
us departed, leaving us to the two Judges who stood in a corner
of the room. The Judges were small, thin men, grey and bent. They
gave the signal to the two strong hooded ones.
They tore the clothes from our body, they threw us down upon our
knees and they tied our hands to the iron post. The first blow of
the lash felt as if our spine had been cut in two. The second
blow stopped the first, and for a second we felt nothing, then
the pain struck us in our throat and fire ran in our lungs
without air. But we did not cry out.
The lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the
blows, but we lost count. We knew that the blows were falling
upon our back. Only we felt nothing upon our back any longer. A
flaming grill kept dancing before our eyes, and we thought of
nothing save that grill, a grill, a grill of red squares, and
then we knew that we were looking at the squares of the iron
grill in the door, and there were also the squares of stone on
the walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting upon our
back, crossing and re-crossing itself in our flesh.
Then we saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw
the red froth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the Judge
asked:
“Where have you been?”
But we jerked our head away, hid our face upon our tied hands,
and bit our lips.
The lash whistled again. We wondered who was sprinkling burning
coal dust upon the floor, for we saw drops of red twinkling on
the stones around us.
Then we knew nothing, save two voices snarling steadily, one
after the other, even though we knew they were speaking many
minutes apart:
“Where have you been where have you been where have you been
where have you been?...”
And our lips moved, but the sound trickled back into our throat,
and the sound was only:
“The light... The light... The light....”
Then we knew nothing.
We opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor of a
cell. We looked upon two hands lying far before us on the bricks,
and we moved them, and we knew that they were our hands. But we
could not move our body. Then we smiled, for we thought of the
light and that we had not betrayed it.
We lay in our cell for many days. The door opened twice each day,
once for the men who brought us bread and water, and once for the
Judges. Many Judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then
the most honored Judges of the City. They stood before us in
their white togas, and they asked:
“Are you ready to speak?”
But we shook our head, lying before them on the floor. And they
departed.
We counted each day and each night as it passed. Then, tonight,
we knew that we must escape. For tomorrow the World Council of
Scholars is to meet in our City.
It was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention.
The locks are old on the doors and there are no guards about.
There is no reason to have guards, for men have never defied the
Councils so far as to escape from whatever place they were
ordered to be. Our body is healthy and strength returns to it
speedily. We lunged against the door and it gave way. We stole
through the dark passages, and through the dark streets, and down
into our tunnel.
We lit the candle and we saw that our place had not been found
and nothing had been touched. And our glass box stood before us
on the cold oven, as we had left it. What matter they now, the
scars upon our back!
Tomorrow, in the full light of day, we shall take our box, and
leave our tunnel open, and walk through the streets to the Home
of the Scholars. We shall put before them the greatest gift ever
offered to men. We shall tell them the truth. We shall hand to
them, as our confession, these pages we have written. We shall
join our hands to theirs, and we shall work together, with the
power of the sky, for the glory of mankind. Our blessing upon
you, our brothers! Tomorrow, you will take us back into your fold
and we shall be an outcast no longer. Tomorrow we shall be one of
you again. Tomorrow...
PART SEVEN
It is dark here in the forest. The leaves rustle over our head,
black against the last gold of the sky. The moss is soft and
warm. We shall sleep on this moss for many nights, till the
beasts of the forest come to tear our body. We have no bed now,
save the moss, and no future, save the beasts.
We are old now, yet we were young this morning, when we carried
our glass box through the streets of the City to the Home of the
Scholars. No men stopped us, for there were none about from the
Palace of Corrective Detention, and the others knew nothing. No
men stopped us at the gate. We walked through empty passages and
into the great hall where the World Council of Scholars sat in
solemn meeting.
We saw nothing as we entered, save the sky in the great windows,
blue and glowing. Then we saw the Scholars who sat around a long
table; they were as shapeless clouds huddled at the rise of the
great sky. There were men whose famous names we knew, and others
from distant lands whose names we had not heard. We saw a great
painting on the wall over their heads, of the twenty illustrious
men who had invented the candle.
All the heads of the Council turned to us as we entered. These
great and wise of the earth did not know what to think of us, and
they looked upon us with wonder and curiosity, as if we were a
miracle. It is true that our tunic was torn and stained with
brown stains which had been blood. We raised our right arm and we
said:
“Our greeting to you, our honored brothers of the World Council
of Scholars!”
Then Collective 0-0009, the oldest and wisest of the Council,
spoke and asked:
“Who are you, our brother? For you do not look like a Scholar.”
“Our name is Equality 7-2521,” we answered, “and we are a Street
Sweeper of this City.”
Then it was as if a great wind had stricken the hall, for all the
Scholars spoke at once, and they were angry and frightened.
“A Street Sweeper! A Street Sweeper walking in upon the World
Council of Scholars! It is not to be believed! It is against all
the rules and all the laws!”
But we knew how to stop them.
“Our brothers!” we said. “We matter not, nor our transgression.
It is only our brother men who matter. Give no thought to us, for
we are nothing, but listen to our words, for we bring you a gift
such as had never been brought to men. Listen to us, for we hold
the future of mankind in our hands.”
Then they listened.
We placed our glass box upon the table before them. We spoke of
it, and of our long quest, and of our tunnel, and of our escape
from the Palace of Corrective Detention. Not a hand moved in that
hall, as we spoke, nor an eye. Then we put the wires to the box,
and they all bent forward and sat still, watching. And we stood
still, our eyes upon the wire. And slowly, slowly as a flush of
blood, a red flame trembled in the wire. Then the wire glowed.
But terror struck the men of the Council. They leapt to their
feet, they ran from the table, and they stood pressed against the
wall, huddled together, seeking the warmth of one another’s
bodies to give them courage.
We looked upon them and we laughed and said:
“Fear nothing, our brothers. There is a great power in these
wires, but this power is tamed. It is yours. We give it to you.”
Still they would not move.
“We give you the power of the sky!” we cried. “We give you the
key to the earth! Take it, and let us be one of you, the humblest
among you. Let us all work together, and harness this power, and
make it ease the toil of men. Let us throw away our candles and
our torches. Let us flood our cities with light. Let us bring a
new light to men!”
But they looked upon us, and suddenly we were afraid. For their
eyes were still, and small, and evil.
“Our brothers!” we cried. “Have you nothing to say to us?”
Then Collective 0-0009 moved forward. They moved to the table and
the others followed.
“Yes,” spoke Collective 0-0009, “we have much to say to you.”
The sound of their voices brought silence to the hall and to beat
of our heart.
“Yes,” said Collective 0-0009, “we have much to say to a wretch
who have broken all the laws and who boast of their infamy!
“How dared you think that your mind held greater wisdom than the
minds of your brothers? And if the Councils had decreed that you
should be a Street Sweeper, how dared you think that you could be
of greater use to men than in sweeping the streets?”
“How dared you, gutter cleaner,” spoke Fraternity 9-3452, “to
hold yourself as one alone and with the thoughts of the one and
not of the many?”
“You shall be burned at the stake,” said Democracy 4-6998.
“No, they shall be lashed,” said Unanimity 7-3304, “till there is
nothing left under the lashes.”
“No,” said Collective 0-0009, “we cannot decide upon this, our
brothers. No such crime has ever been committed, and it is not
for us to judge. Nor for any small Council. We shall deliver this
creature to the World Council itself and let their will be done.”
We looked upon them and we pleaded:
“Our brothers! You are right. Let the will of the Council be done
upon our body. We do not care. But the light? What will you do
with the light?”
Collective 0-0009 looked upon us, and they smiled.
“So you think that you have found a new power,” said Collective
0-0009. “Do all your brothers think that?”
“No,” we answered.
“What is not thought by all men cannot be true,” said Collective
0-0009.
“You have worked on this alone?” asked International 1-5537.
“Many men in the Homes of the Scholars have had strange new ideas
in the past,” said Solidarity 8-1164, “but when the majority of
their brother Scholars voted against them, they abandoned their
ideas, as all men must.”
“This box is useless,” said Alliance 6-7349.
“Should it be what they claim of it,” said Harmony 9-2642, “then
it would bring ruin to the Department of Candles. The Candle is a
great boon to mankind, as approved by all men. Therefore it