Doctor Leete had been silent while his daughter sounded off on the subject of style. He said, “It seems to me that when I was a boy in my teens, one of the greatest wastes was the lack of planning of production. Under capitalism, capital flowed to where profit was greatest. Suppose, for instance, artichokes became a food fad. Prices would go up. Thousands of farmers would immediately put in crops of artichokes. They would overflow the market. Prices would break. Then tons upon tons of artichokes would become surplus and rot in the fields since it wouldn’t be worth harvesting them.
“Or take something like toys. Do you remember the Davy Crockett fad? I barely do. Suddenly Davy Crockett coonskins hats, Davy Crockett frontiersman shirts, Davy Crockett moccasins were a must for every child. Hundreds of manufacturers leaped in to profit in the market. Then, overnight, the youngsters tired of Davy Crockett and found a new fad, leaving literally millions of coonskin hats and moccasins to mold in warehouses or be destroyed. As far as a reasonable socioeconomic system was concerned, it was anarchy.”
Edith yawned mightily and said, “I’m getting bored with all this talk. If poor Julian hasn’t already become convinced that the socioeconomic system under which he lived was a madhouse compared to today, he never will. Jule, how would you like to take a drive out to our home? I have some things I have to pick up.”
He looked at her quizzically. “Your home? Isn’t this your home?”
“Oh, good heavens, Jule. This is a university city. We’re just in residence here while Father continues his research on your case and while I study various projects of mine. Mother is taking a few courses too.”
“Let’s go,” Julian said.
Chapter Eight
Animal’s lives utterly depend upon green plants. Plants alone give us our food; they alone renew and refresh the air, they alone recycle organic wastes, and they alone store sunlight for our use. Plants must have ground space on which to grow. Buildings and roads are using it up at ever-faster speed… Therefore, those of us who build and pave are helping to plunge the planet into disaster. Obviously, then, since we can’t change the facts of life, we’ve got to change the way we pave and build. Buildings and roads below the living green surface of the land can restore ground space to life again.
Edith and Julian took the elevator to the car pool in the basement of the high-rise apartment building in which they lived.
He said, “This pyramid project you’re interested in simply floors me. I just don’t get the why of it.”
She looked amused. “When Father told you that only two percent of the population was needed in industry to produce an abundance for all, did you come to the conclusion that the remaining ninety-eight percent spent their time sitting before the Tri-Di television, guzzling beer and pushing pleasure buttons?”
“Pleasure buttons?”
She laughed. “It’s a branch of medical science that was experimented with for a time and then definitely dropped. I believe the experiments started with rats and monkeys back before you went into stasis. It was possible, electronically, to stimulate the areas of the brain relating to pleasure. By activating a button, the animal would experience the height of pleasure momentarily. Push the button again and the pleasure returned again, and over and over. Nothing else made any difference to them. Food, drink, even sex meant nothing. They would remain, pressing the button until they fell over from exhaustion, starvation, or dehydration.”
“Good God!” Julian exclaimed. “You mean that brain specialists can do that to humans as well?”
She nodded. “Can, but don’t. Not all the roads opened up by science are followed, Julian. So far as pleasure is concerned, we like to find it ourselves—normally. One of the ways is to create beauty. Much of the beauty in the world, created in the past, has been lost to us. We are attempting to recreate that which we can. For instance, did you know that of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, only the ruins of the Pyramid of Cheops is still in existence? All of the others we are attempting to rebuild: the Colossus of Rhodes, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, the Artemision at Ephesus, the Olympian Zeus statue originally by Phidias, the Pharos lighthouse.”
He simply stared at her in open-mouthed wonder.
The elevator had reached the car pool. Edith spoke into a screen, ordering a two-seater. Within moments it sped up to where they stood.
“I’ll drive,” she said. “I know all the coordinates.”
They got in and she deftly dialed their destination.
“Where are we going?” he asked as the automated car took off. He still wasn’t used to seeing the driver with hands not on the wheel.
“Our semi-permanent home is in what you used to call Maryland. A small town called Hopewell.”
“Semi-permanent?” he repeated. “Then you don’t own it?”
The car blended into the underground traffic, moving into the inner and fastest line.
She shook her head. “Nobody owns their homes now, Jule. It doesn’t make sense.”
“In my time, most of us—those who could afford to own them—took pride in our homes.”
“We take pride in them too as long as we remain in residence. That is, we beautify them, keep them as comfortable and attractive as we can. But we don’t tie ourselves down to one house, as a rule. Oh, some people do. Some live in the same dwelling all their lives. Certainly, there is no one to say them nay. But usually we rent our homes until some reason comes up that makes it practical to move.”
“Such as?”
“Well, look. Here you are a single man. It would seem unlikely that you would want a large house. Although housework is almost completely automated, there are still things that must be done. You rent a smallish house, or an apartment, in an area that is desirable to you, say in the mountains. Very well, after a time you meet a girl and form a permanent or semi-permanent arrangement with her. Obviously, a somewhat larger house is called for. Lo and behold, the following year she has a baby. A larger house is called for. Besides that, you’re getting tired of the mountains and move down to Florida for the beach and the fishing. It turns out she loves children and since you’re both genetically ideal, you are given the go-ahead to have another child. You decide you could use another room. So it goes for a few years and the first baby grows up and goes off on his own. Shortly the other child matures and leaves as well. There are just two of you now. You decide you’ve had enough of Florida anyway, and move down to one of the picturesque old Spanish Colonial towns in what was called Mexico before it was amalgamated into United America. By this time, your girlfriend is getting sick and tired of you and leaves. You are now single again, and a one-person house is in order. Doesn’t it make sense?”
“I suppose so,” he said. “Actually, in my time, too, we had a lot of people who were continually moving. But look, to get back to rebuilding the pyramid and all the Seven Wonders. If they’re destroyed, how can you recreate them?”
“It’s a problem, all right. Scholars are digging up every bit of information they can find. There are illustrations, some written descriptions. For instance, the lighthouse at Pharos was built back in Ptolemy’s day, before Christ, but it lasted until the 14th Century A.D. Many times it was depicted on pottery, on Egyptian tomb walls, on papyrus. We’ve got a pretty good idea of what the lighthouse looked like, and the Colossus of Rhodes which, by the way, didn’t straddle the harbor as it is sometimes illustrated. We’re having more trouble, actually, with the Roman Forum, which wasn’t one of the Seven Wonders, but we’re going to redo it anyway.”
“The Roman Forum! It must have covered several square miles, including the Colosseum. I’ve seen it.”
“Yes, of course. You see, it lasted for well over a thousand years. Now, do we reconstruct it as it was in the days of Lars Porsenna and the Etruscan reges, or as it looked during the time of Caesar and Augustus? In Nero’s day, or that of Marcus Aurelius when it was probably at the height of its beauty?”
“Next you’ll be telling me you’ve got a project for damming up the Mississippi River so it’ll flow backward over the Rocky Mountains,” he protested.
