Equality: In the Year 2000

He refused to think about that for the time.

17. Artificial growth of new limbs and organs, either in situ or for later transplantation.

Another one to ask the doctor about.

18. Indefinite suspended animation.

He was on home ground with that one. Indefinite? He had been under for more than thirty years, hadn’t he? Now, he supposed, new developments had occurred.

19. Major rejuvenation and significant extention of life span and vigor.

That was something! He wondered to what extent. Somebody—Edith, he thought—had already told him that man was no longer tied to his traditional three score years and ten.

20. Automated highways and moving sidewalks for local transportation.

21. Substantial progress toward anti-gravity.

22. Lifetime immunization against practically all diseases.

23. Understanding of cetacean languages.

That would mean communication with… well, porpoises, whales, and dolphins, wouldn’t it?

24. Wireless energy—

Before he could finish taking it in, his TV phone hummed. He switched off his auto-teacher screen and activated the phone. It was Edith.

“Have you forgotten that you promised to have lunch with us? Mother was to present one of her recipes.”

He said, “Sorry, Edie. I was all caught up in research. I’ll be right over.”

The Leete door opened at his approach, it too being keyed in to his face. He went on into the living room where both Edith and her mother were already at the dining room table.

Martha smiled at him. “I’ve already dialed for lunch. I hope you like Oysters Diablo.”

He took his customary place. “I’m an oyster man from way back but I don’t believe I know that dish.” He looked around. “Isn’t the doctor going to be with us? I’ve managed to accumulate some more questions about the changes that have taken place since my times.”

Mrs. Leete frowned slightly. “I can’t imagine where he is. He went out a short time ago on an errand that should have taken but a few minutes. Perhaps something came up. We can start without him.”

It was then that the living room door opened and Doctor Leete stumbled in. His clothes were rumpled and soiled, blood trickled from the side of his mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen.

The three at the table were on their feet instantly.

“Raymond!” Martha screamed.

Julian hurried to the side of the doctor. “What in the hell happened?” he asked as he led the older man to a couch.

Edith was at her father’s side, eyes wide. “Father! What on earth happened?”

Doctor Leete brought a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his mouth. He was gasping for breath.

He said, as though he couldn’t believe it himself, “I… I was just mauled by three young men in the elevator.”

“Mauled!” Martha Leete was next to her husband, her hand anxiously on his arm.

Julian had gone to the auto-bar. He came back with a stiff shot of brandy. “Here,” he said. “I know you don’t ordinarily drink, but you look as though you could use this. I thought you didn’t have juvenile delinquency any more. What did they take?”

The doctor looked at him blankly. “Take? What could they take? I have nothing worth taking. We don’t have money. Nobody wears jewelry. I have nothing anybody else couldn’t get by simply dialing the ultra-markets.”

Edith said, “But… I’ve never heard of such a thing… I’ve never heard of physical violence taking place in this building.”

Julian was the only one present familiar with such matters. He asked, “What did they do?”

The doctor shook his head, as though to clear it. “They got into the elevator with me. As we ascended, one suddenly struck me with his fist in the abdomen. Then the others began to hit me. That’s all I can remember, except… one thrust his hand into my jacket pocket.”

“For what?”

The doctor shook his head again, his breath coming more naturally now. “For nothing. There was nothing there.”

Martha said in bewilderment, “But this doesn’t make sense, Raymond. You have no enemies.”

Her husband put his hand in his jacket pocket, as though to demonstrate that there was nothing in it. Then he frowned. He withdrew a slip of paper and scowled at it. When he had read it, he shook his head in confusion.

Julian took the slip from him.

When a social revolution is pending and, for whatever reason, is not accomplished, reaction is the alternative. At such a time any reform measures proposed are concealed measures of reaction— Daniel DeLeon.

He handed the note to Martha Leete. She and Edith read it, both looking bewildered.

“Who in the hell’s Daniel DeLeon?” Julian asked.

The doctor had caught his breath by now. He said, mystified, “Was, not is. He was a revolutionist about 1900. Very prominent in socialist circles a century ago.”

Julian looked at Edith. “Can’t you call the police?”

“We don’t have police, in the old sense of the word,” she said, standing. “But I’ll call University Security.”

But something strange had come over the doctor’s face. He took the note back from his wife and reread it, then looked up and shook his head. “No, don’t do that. I want to think about this.”

And now Edith had a thoughtful look too.

She turned to Julian. “Jule, I’m sorry, but would you mind? It doesn’t look as though a very pleasant lunch is in the offing.”

“There’s nothing I can do?”

It was the doctor who answered him. “No. No, Julian. I’ll be all right. We’ll see you later.”