Intermission Time

An oblong club of light beat against the dark with momentary suddenness. John heard the thud of the thick insulated door. He flattened against the wall.

Then his breath caught sharply as he recognized her dim profile and the tilt of her head. She called softly, “John.”

“Over here,” he said.

For a moment they stood facing each other, unable to explain why they had come.

“I wanted to see you again,” he said simply, at last.

“I was hoping you would,” she said.

And then there seemed nothing more at all to say. In a few more days the ship would land on Venus, and she would go to a savage jungle dwelling, while he would spend the rest of his life in some musical fairyland. It seemed suddenly beyond all reason.

“What is your name?” he said.

“Lora. Lora Wallace.”

“Why did you come? Why are you going to Planet 7?”

“To get away from the dead. Earth's nothing but a big tomb. We kid ourselves that we are rebuilding there, but we're not. The Human Developments people know we're not, but not many others do.

“But don't think I have any sympathy for Human Developments; the whole Project is on the wrong track. I came to get away.

“Back home it's the same old thing that has happened a hundred times before. You can't move from one city to another without a thousand signatures on your papers; you can't plan a project any more complex than a backyard garden without consulting twenty-five authorities and experts.

“Oh, they're all so very generous and helpful. And we understand that it is necessary to obey regulations in order to conserve and rebuild the world. But we're in prison, just the same.

“It got so I couldn’t stand it any longer. Some of my friends joined the Moon colonies; some have gone to Mars. But I didn’t have money enough for either. Becoming a Control-colonist with Human Developments Project was the only way I could think of to get out of prison.”

“Do you think it will be freedom,” said John, “fighting the jungle with your bare hands?”

“Yes,” she said with fierce intensity. “Because no one's going to care where I go, or what I do, as long as I don’t hurt my neighbor. I'd be willing to bet that, in the long run, the only survivors of Earth's culture will be the descendants of the Control-colonies on Planet 7. The only way you can build men and women capable of conquering a planet is to give them a problem and let them figure it out, with complete freedom of action.”

“Isn’t that what Earth is doing?” said John. “And in a more civilised way? We have the problem — to make Earth habitable again, to create a stable civilization. Aren't we doing that with a greater cooperation than has ever been attained before?”

“No! That's the same old fallacy that has wrecked a hundred nations. Controls, restrictions, bureaus — these things do not mean cooperation; they mean force. And every application of force is one less freedom for some man.

“I don't need anybody to tell me what my job is to be; I'll find my job. I don't need anybody to tell me where is the best place to live; I'll find it for myself. And so will millions of others, when they get a chance. And when we get through we'll have done a far better job than all the boards and experts ever dreamed of doing. If I can't do it on Earth as a free citizen, I'll do it on Planet 7 as a Controll!”

He was a little embarrassed by the vehemence of her talk, but it was like a glimpse into a new world. A world he somehow suspected he had long wanted to see.

“Tell me why you came,” she said.

“I don't know,” he answered; “I haven't any reason at all for being here; I've got to find one. I've got to find some purpose for going to Planet 7.”

She shook her head. “You don't find it that way. Purposes are something you live with for months and years. All the years of your life. It’s not something that comes overnight or with a moment's dreaming.

“We’d better go back,” she said. “Someone might miss us if we stay too long. Let me go first, and you follow in a few minutes.”

“Wait.” He put a hand on her arm. “Will I see you again?”

She hesitated and smiled up at him. “All right. Tomorrow. The same time. Be careful. They mustn’t find out.”

4

The indoctrination class next day was endless. Bronson seemed to take particular delight in pointing out the irrevocability of their decision — reminding that there would be no turning back from the course that had been set.

When discussion-period came, John was suddenly on his feet. “What about those who find that they are unable to conform?” he demanded. “What about those who refuse to abide by the rules of the Project?”

“No one is wasted,” said Bronson. “Rebelliousness is a trait that has been noted through the ages; we have colonies where its value is now being determined. I may say that preliminary investigations show the value of the rebel to society have been vastly overestimated.”

“But what do you do with them?”