be allotted to each couple for a certain period each day. There are ten such rooms, which means that if everybody is married there will be approximately one hour of privacy for each couple every day.”
The speaker ended by wishing all prospective couples good luck. “Don’t be shy,” she said. “Choose your mate and push the nearest red button.”
APRIL 18
The announcement about marriage facilities has created quite a stir on Level 7. At meals, when about a third of the crew meets at one time along the long table (we eat in three shifts), people do not take the nearest place on the bench as they used to, but wander around trying to find an attractive partner of the opposite sex. This results in some disorder, but ‘promotes the interests of humanity’.
Nobody seems to be in love, as far as I can tell: probably we are incapable of feeling a strong social emotion like that, with the exception of X-117 and perhaps some other people who have come here by mistake. But at least things are a bit livelier than they were. Somebody who did not know what it was all about might think we had just enjoyed a glass of brandy. If this keeps up, it will not be long before the 500 bachelors and spinsters on Level 7 have become 250 married couples.
This evening I discussed the marriage business with X-107. He thought it all quite reasonable. I asked where space could be found for the new generations to live. He replied that if ten rooms had been set aside in advance for the convenience of married couples, space for children must have been thought of as well. This argument seemed sound enough to me.
“Of course,” he added, “they must have fixed on an optimum number of people for Level 7, and if too many children are born then birth control will have to be introduced. But this problem isn’t likely to arise for two or three years.”
APRIL 19
Today the loudspeaker announced the engagement of TN-237 to AS-167, one of the air-supply officers. ‘TN’ stands for Teacher and Nurse—a new designation, somebody told me: previously she was known as R-237, ‘R’ meaning Reserve. This reserve of officers will eventually fill a variety of posts.
I do not know AS-167, but when his fiancee was pointed out to me at lunch today I recognised her as one of the women who regularly eat on my meal shift. She was congratulated by everybody sitting near her, myself included. She is a girl of about twenty, she looks nice, and today—though I would not say she was as radiant as a young bride could be—she certainly seemed more satisfied that the people around her.
The marriage ceremony, being the first one on Level 7, was broadcast over the general loudspeaker system. It was scheduled for ‘7 p.m.’. Perhaps this time was chosen—and announced thus, instead of in the more usual form of 19.00 hours—to make a symbolic link between the ceremony and Level 7.
I was taking a shower when 7 p.m. came round, but the noise of the water did not prevent my hearing the loudspeaker in the bathroom. Sharp at the appointed hour, it announced: “Attention, please, attention! Here is an event which makes history: the first marriage on Level 7. Everybody on Level 7 is privileged to share in this historic experience.”
This announcement struck me as unusually pompous; in the normal way the loudspeaker’s tone is laconic and dry. What followed, however, was as simple a marriage ceremony as could be imagined.
A woman’s voice sounded: “Do you, AS-167, want to marry TN-237 and to maintain this status as long as it is mutually agreeable?”
A man’s voice replied: “Yes, I do.”
Then the mistress-of-ceremonies asked TN-237 a similar question, and on getting the same answer announced: “AS-167 and TN-237 are now a married couple. The names of both will from now on carry the suffix small ‘m’ Congratulations!”
The whole business could not have lasted a minute, and I was still towelling myself in the bathroom when the loudspeaker announced that the ceremony was over, and for some reason congratulated TN-237m and AS- 167m again—stressing the ‘m’. Perhaps these extra congratulations were due to their being the first couple to marry on Level 7. I believe the loudspeaker did mention the fact.
I put on some clothes, switched on the classical music tape and lay down on my bed. The concluding chords of Chopin’s ‘Funeral March’ died away in the small room.
‘Well,’ I thought, ‘if I had been the planner of Level 7 I would have arranged for Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” or some other suitable tune to be played at that juncture. If most marriages were to be performed at 7 p.m., this could easily have been co-ordinated with the twelve-day tape.
‘So the arrangements on Level 7 are
APRIL 20
At lunch today TN-237m—the additional symbol was attached to her identity badge—told us some details about the marriage ceremony.
It was performed (to the visible disappointment of some of the people, mostly women, who were listening to her) in the little room where we take our laundry, a tiny closet like place about five feet square. Only she and AS-167 were present, but evidently they must have been on the screen of the mistress-of-ceremonies, for they were told over a loudspeaker not to face each other, as they initially did, but to face the wall opposite the door. Presumably this enabled the loudspeaker-lady to see them better.
Then they were asked the questions and gave the answers which we all heard over the general loudspeaker system, and as the mistress-of-ceremonies was congratulating them two little letters ‘m’ rattled down the chute which returns the bundles of clean laundry. On the back each read: “Fix this to your identity badge.” (TN-237m turned hers round, and we all read the instruction on the back.)
“And that was all,” she concluded, looking as disappointed as any of us.
Somebody murmured that this all sounded very interesting, but he said it in such a way that it was clear he did not believe his own words. Then someone else remarked that the marriage ceremony was only a symbol: the essence of marriage, he said, lay in its essence.
Nobody contradicted this statement and the topic was dropped as the band on the table started moving and our meal glided to a stop before us. We ate without saying much until, just as we were on the point of concluding our lunch with three pills and a drink, somebody had the good or the bad idea of taking one of the pills between his thumb and forefinger and lifting it the way a glass of wine is lifted for a toast. “To TN-237m,” he proposed, bowing slightly to her, “and may she enjoy many happy years with AS-167m.”
“TN-237m,” we all mumbled, solemnly raising our pills before popping them into our mouths; and she, deciding that our gesture was well-meaning, looked a little bashful and replied: “Thank you.”
APRIL 21
A few more marriage announcements were made today. One of the wastage officers, W-297, has married a female administrator, Ad-327. R-287, male, has married a loud-speaker officer, L-267. M-227, a medical doctor, is now the wife of one of the screen-watchers, Sc-167.
Today in the lounge I tried to chat with the nurse I met on my first visit to that room, N-527. I have had little
