chance to speak to her since that occasion, because E-647, the electrical engineer, has always been around her, while P-867 is always around me. Today, by a happy coincidence, E-647 was missing as well as P-867, who has not shown up in the lounge for the last three days.
N-527 is rather nice. If I marry down here at all, I should like to marry her.
I asked her how her job differed from that of TN-237m, Level 7’s first bride. She said that she was trained to nurse adults, while ‘TN’ indicated a person qualified as kindergarten teacher and nurse for babies and young children.
Then I asked her if she was kept busy. She said no, for there were very few accidents down here, and hardly any sickness so far. I suggested that this might make her life boring. She replied that she spent a lot of time listening to music—to the light tape, not the classical.
Wouldn’t marriage be an additional distraction? I suggested. She answered that she did not feel a need for any additional distraction. “Still, I may marry,” she said. “E-647 proposed to me yesterday, and I promised to give him an answer today, but he hasn’t come.” She looked around the room with a slight air of disappointment.
I did not ask her what her answer would be, but changed the subject. Though I liked her calm, hardly sensitive nature, I did not feel too cut up about the prospect of her marrying E-647. Apparently he cared for her more than I did.
Perhaps E-647 is less unsociable than I.
APRIL 22
P-867 reappeared in the lounge today. She was in even better spirits than usual, and came straight up to me. “What do you think about the marriages?” she said. “Aren’t they wonderful?”
I made some cynical remark to the effect that marriage was an affliction as old as humanity itself. She laughed it off and said: “Oh, I know you don’t mean that! You’re only talking like that in an attempt to hide your real feelings.” At this she giggled in her typical way.
I did not argue the point, but asked her where she had been the last few days.
“You missed me, didn’t you?” she said with satisfaction. “Well,” she went on more briskly, “I’ve been busy with your colleague X-117. It’s a difficult case. Marriage might help him, though, and I’m sorry the facilities weren’t announced earlier. You know, he’s too sociable for Level 7, but if he’d been able to marry before the hysterical symptoms appeared, it might have provided a harmless outlet for his sociable impulses. It’s not so easy now.” Then she glanced up at me and gave what I took to be a winning smile. “Still, don’t let’s waste our half hour talking about X-117. I’ve had enough of him recently.”
I wanted to hear more about my fellow-officer, but I did not ask her to go on. She had a right to rest, after all. I remained silent, not knowing quite what to say. P-867, however, needs very little co-operation in conversation. She eagerly went on talking.
“You know,” she said, “I’ve had two proposals of marriage through the mediation service. Two shy officers,” she giggled, “want to marry me!”
I congratulated her on her success, but this did not seem to satisfy her. “Aren’t you jealous?” she asked, “Or are you so sure of your charms that you know I shall refuse my two shy officers? Oh, you naughty X-127!” She gave me an arch look, fluttering her eye-lashes in a coquettish manner.
I failed to see why I was naughty, I was not in the least jealous, and I did not care a damn whom she married, or whether she married at all. But I made some silly remark about how sure I was she would refuse her shy suitors, whoever they were. This seemed to confirm my naughtiness, in her eyes; which meant my interest in her.
Our half hour in the lounge was up at this point, and on parting from P-867 I felt some relief.
APRIL 24
I am playing cat and mouse with P-867. She, of course, is the cat.
She wants to marry me. I do not want to marry at all, and if I had felt like marrying at any time I would have chosen N-527. But I have missed my chance there, I admit. Her marriage to E-647 was announced yesterday.
I am trying to escape from P-867 by talking to other people when I visit the lounge—the only alternative is to give up going there, which would be a pity. Yesterday I discovered a quiet girl there, R-747. Eventually, when some children have been born and grown past the kindergarten stage, she will become a teacher—T-747. (The reason TN-237m has already had her title changed is that her job is likely to start in less than a year.) R-747 will instruct children from the age of six or seven onwards. In the meantime, she is preparing instructional material and developing methods of education for use on Level 7. Occasionally, as a reserve officer, she is given odd duties which do not require special training, but she says that the task of preparing for the education of the coming generation is enough by itself to keep her pretty busy.
I said I did not see how this could occupy all her working life for the next six or seven years, so she explained some of the problems to me. “Look,” she said, “when you were six years old I expect your grandmother sat you on her knee and told you stories about a good Lord in heaven who rewarded good children, about angels who watched over you when you were asleep, and so on. If you were a naughty boy, then you may have been frightened of going to hell, which was supposed to be a place deep, deep down inside the earth. Now, stories like these—”
Here she was interrupted by P-867, who had been listening to the last part of our conversation. “Stories like those are nonsense anyhow,” she objected, “and they interfere with the normal development of the child. I hope you’re not going to teach that kind of rubbish to the children down here.”
“That’s just what I was going to say,” replied R-747 quietly. “We can’t tell the children that the way to hell is downwards, and to heaven upwards. We’ll have to reverse the story: hell will be somewhere up there, and paradise deep inside the earth—deeper than Level 7, even. Or perhaps Level 7 itself will be the new heaven.”
P-867 wanted to interrupt again, but I broke in before she did—on purpose, because her constant company was becoming increasingly irksome to me, while the problems raised by R-747 were interesting and provided new food for thought. Addressing R-747, I said: “So what you’re trying to do is to create a new mythology, one adapted to fit the facts and supply the needs of Level 7.”
P-867 snorted: “But why do we need mythology at all? To hell with all this nonsense!”
“Don’t you mean ‘to heaven’ with it?” I asked; but my little quip reverberated in a sinister way in my mind, so I added crossly: “What do psychologists understand about mythology, anyway?”
This made her angry and she found some excuse to leave us. I cheered up at that, for the creation of myths seemed a fascinating pastime to me, and it was obvious I would not have been able to go on discussing the subject with P-867 around.
Unfortunately our time in the lounge was up a minute later, so I had to break off my talk with R-747.
APRIL 25
I was indeed lucky yesterday. A few minutes after finishing that entry in my diary I walked around to the lounge and had R-747 all to myself for the whole half hour. P-867 did not put in an appearance, so we were able to carry on our discussion of mythology quite undisturbed.
Today it was not so good. P-867 reappeared and tried to keep me at her side by giving me a detailed progress report on X-117, who seems to be getting better. But as we were leaving the lounge R-747 was able to hand me a sheet of paper, asking me to let her have it back the next time we met.
I have just finished reading what is written on it: a story for the children of the future generations. I find it a
