For Us, the Living Read online

  “Want to see how the tubes work?”

  “Sure.” They went inside, across a broad foyer and mounted a flight of stairs to a mezzanine. Diana led to the far side of the balcony. They leaned over a rail and looked down into a broad deep room whose floor level Perry judged to be below the street. Diana pointed down, and to the right.

  “See them coming in there. Then they go on the belt and are sorted.” Canisters of various lengths but of a uniform thickness, about eighteen inches, streamed out of a round hole and were deposited one after the other on a conveyor belt. Every few feet a mechanism leaned over the belt. Occasionally relays would click and a broad hook would roll a canister off the belt and pull it onto another belt running crosswise underneath the first. The crosswise belts then carried the canisters off to the right and left.

  “Who operates the selectors?”

  “They are automatic. An electric eye scans the destination tag. If the appropriate symbol corresponds, the grabber swings out and hooks off the can. See that first selector that is so busy? The one with three arms? That takes all the San Francisco traffic. Its belts unload in another room about as big as this where they are sorted for the local stations.”

  “I suppose the tubes run on compressed air.”

  “Only on short jumps. On the trunk lines they shoot along in a partial vacuum floating in a magnetic field that pulls them along. They make tremendous speeds on the long jumps.”

  “Suppose I wanted to mail a letter to New York. Would it ride in one of those cans all by itself?”

  “Yes, but there isn’t much sense in writing a letter when you can call up on the visiphone, or write on the telautograph.”

  “No, I suppose not. Say, I’d like to take one of those selectors to pieces.”

  “Perhaps you can if you care to apply for permission. But there is nothing fancy about them. Seen enough?”

  “I guess so. What now?”

  Diana glanced at a chronometer on the wall. “It’s ten minutes past thirteen. We could run out to the rocket port if you like.”

  “Say, that’s fine. Let’s go!” They went back to street level and rode the first strip to an intersection where they dropped down one flight to the crosstown shuttle. This they took to a station marked TUB EKSPRES TU ROKET PORT. An attendant sealed them in a cylinder containing heavily cushioned chairs. Diana sat down and laid her head back against a head rest and told Perry to do likewise. A light glowed above them for a few seconds, then cut off. Perry suddenly felt very heavy and was pressed into the cushions. Then he was suddenly normal weight again.

  “Brace your feet, Perry.” The sudden increase in weight pressed him forward this time. Then normal weight returned and the door opened.

  “Where are we?”

  “At the port, about fifteen kilometers south of town.”

  “San Mateo?”

  “No, west of there near Pillar Point.” They climbed out and proceeded up a ramp to a waiting room, where swarms of people moved about and clustered at the far end. Diana glanced at an illuminated notice board and then at the chronometer beside it. “Hurry, Perry. We are just in time.”

  “For what?”

  “The Antipodes Express. It arrives from New Zealand in four minutes. Hurry.” He followed her up a ramp into a gallery with windows facing the field. Several sightseers were already there. Diana turned to one of them, a boy about twelve. “Is she in sight yet?”

  “Uh huh, she’s circling. See?” He pointed for them. Diana and Perry squinted at the sky.

  “I’m afraid I can’t make her out.”

  “She’s there all right. There go the field lights. The screens’ll be up any minute now.”

  “What kind of screens?” Perry inquired. The boy looked at him curiously.

  “Say, you haven’t been around much, have you? These kind of screens.” Dark amber glass shutters were settling over the view windows. “You look at a rocket blast with your naked eyes and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

  “Thanks, son. I don’t know much about rockets.”

  “I do. I’m going to be a rocket pilot when I grow up. There she comes. She’s the good old Southern Cross. See how pretty she rides? That’s old Marko himself. He don’t bounce ’em.” The ship, a faint silvery sliver, circled toward the earth. She rode with her bow lifted perhaps twenty degrees, and her tail jets streaming behind her.

  “Looks as if she were climbing.”

  “No, no.” Superior Knowledge was faintly scornful. “He’s riding her in on her tail. Old Marko don’t pull out the plug till he’s ready.” The ship circled again lower down and on a narrower course. The tail jets snuffed out, then a brilliant light flared from her keel. “There goes her belly blast. Oh boy!” The youngster’s eyes shone. The blast reached down toward the earth. Soon it splashed around the field. Steadily the ship lowered until the blast was almost point blank and the splash filled the halfmole landing circle and concealed the ship. Then the blast ceased and the ship lay before them. The boy chortled. “Did you see that? Just as steady as a rock on her good old gyros. And he just slid her down like sliding down a rope. Not even a side jet. Not once! What he aims at, he hits. Marko’s going to drive one to the Moon someday; you wait and see. And I bet I’ll go along, too.”

  A little cart was rolling out toward the ship and unfurling a long matting as it went. Perry asked the lad about it.

  “That’s the asbestos rug. You wouldn’t want to walk on that field in those sandals after the belly blast hits it. You’d fry. The cart’s just the baggage cart.” They watched the passengers debark, then strolled about the station for a few minutes.

  “Any place else you want to go, Perry?” Diana presently inquired.

  “Have you any suggestion?”

  “I’m getting a little weary of the crowds. Let’s get back.” Fifteen minutes later they were on the platform where they had left the Cloud Horse. Diana surrendered her receipt and her car was run out onto the take-off flat. Inside, she shucked off her tunic and tossed it on the bench and had the car in the air before Perry was out of his belt and comfortably settled. Once seated he lit a cigarette and handed it to her. “Where are we going?”

  “Would you like to go swimming?”

  “Swell. Where?”

  “I know a little cove down near Monterey that is sheltered from the wind. The water may be a bit chilly.”

  “Let’s try it.”

  Diana switched to ‘plane’ combination and gave it the gun. In fifteen minutes they were over Monterey Bay. Diana continued past Point Pinos for a few miles, circled, changed to helico, and settled down in a little cove which faced southwest. The waves broke gently on a narrow ribbon of beach. On each side shoulders of granite jutted out onto the sea. They opened the door and stepped out. The air was almost still and the afternoon sun beat down on them. The sand was warm underfoot. The sea smell, ripe and tangy, stirred in their nostrils. They walked toward the water but soon the joy of being alive lifted them up and they felt compelled to run. They splashed into the water, yelling and laughing. Perry charged along and dived head first onto the face of a breaker. He came up and dog-paddled in the back wash. Diana’s head broke beside him.

  “This is swell.” He gasped.

  “A little bit chilly. Look out! Duck!” He turned around just in time to catch a wall of green water in the face. He came up blowing, and swam over to where Diana stood laughing at him. His hand struck bottom, he dropped his feet and stood beside her.

  “This is grand, Dian’. I wish we could have done this in my day.”

  “My goodness! Didn’t you?”

  “Swim raw I mean. We swam but we wore swimming suits.”

  She looked incredulous. “I’ve read about it, of course. But it seems so ridiculous—so unsanitary.” She shivered a little. “I’m going to dry off, Perry. I’m cold.”

  “One more dive and I’m with you.” She moved off up the beach. When Perry returned he found her by the door of the car, rubbing herself briskly with a b
ig fluffy towel. He picked up a second towel which was lying in the door. “Turn around and I’ll rub your back.” She turned obediently. When he had finished, she scrubbed away at his back, then stepped away and snapped him with her towel. “Ouch!” He rubbed the spot ruefully. “Was that nice?”

  She grinned impishly. “No, but it was fun.”

  “You ought to be paddled for that.”

  “You’ll have to catch me first.” She was off down the beach, hair flying, legs flashing. He took off after her and ran her down. He grabbed her from behind, she struggled, and they fell down together, a laughing disorderly heap. He tussled with her and tried to turn her over into a favorable position for a smacking, but she was lithe as an otter and nearly as slippery. Their contortions brought their faces close to each other. He bent his head down and kissed her on her lips. She became instantly quiet, not relaxed but tense. In sudden alarm he searched her face. Her expression was serious but she did not seem angry. Slowly he bent his head again. She made no move, but did not draw away. His mouth touched hers gently. Her body relaxed and melted into his and her lips parted slightly as her right arm went about his neck. They held still for a long time.

  There are kisses and kisses. Some are given in sport and some in passion. There are formal kisses of greeting and departure, and there are perfunctory pecks of accustomed affection. Once in a great while lips meet and two spirits merge for a time and the universe is right and complete and the planets wheel in their proper places. Once in a while the lonely, broken spirit of man is healed and made whole. For a while his quest is over and his questions are answered.

  She lay quiet in his arms. “Oh, Perry.”

  “Dian’, Dian’.”

  Presently she stirred. “Let’s go back to the car.” They arose and were surprised to find muscles stiff and cold. The warm glow of the interior of the car was welcome. “Shall we go home?” He nodded and she drew back the stick. The shadows on the beach were lengthening and the car’s shadow flew out ahead of them to the east. She leveled off and shifted combinations. Presently her hands left the controls. “I’ve set the robot on Reno. Let’s move back.” They seated themselves side by side on the cushions.

  “Cigarette?”

  “Thanks.” He lit it for her and one for himself. A long silence. Presently he spoke.

  “Dian’.”

  “Yes, Perry?”

  “I didn’t say so, but I suppose you know that I love you.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Well?”

  “I love you too, Perry.”

  Neither spoke for a long time. The quiet whir of the screw and the clicking of the robot marked the growth of time. He kissed her. When their lips parted she left her head on his shoulder. The room filled with their thoughts. In course of time a bell tinkled and a little light flashed on the instrument board. Diana arose hastily. “We’re abreast of home. I must take over.” Quickly she slid into her pilot’s chair and changed course to the right. Five minutes later she spoke. “Look down and see if you can pick out our field.”

  “I see a light below.”

  “Work this switch and see if it blinks.”

  He did so. “It’s ours all right.”

  “Will you land us, Perry?”

  “Why, yes, if you wish.”

  “I want you to.”

  He set them gently down. A few moments later Captain Kidd was telling them in blasphemous terms what he thought of people who stayed away all day. There seemed to be some mention of inconsiderate, something about no sense of responsibility and a distinct intention of writing to the Times. Diana hastily procured a saucer of milk and one of sardines. He accepted her apology—tentatively.

  When Perry came out of the refresher, he found Diana at the food preparer, her hands fairly flying about the place. He called to her.

  “Dian’.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve still got your sandals on.”

  She glanced down and smiled. “So I have. Your supper will be ready the sooner.” She placed a few more items on the tray. “Here, set it up.” She dived into her refresher and returned in less than five minutes, sandal-less, her hair fluffed out and her body glowing from a quick shower. She slid into her seat. “All ready? Get set. Go!” They ate like starved children for a few minutes. Then their eyes met and they both laughed without knowing why. They finished more slowly and Perry chucked the dishes in the fire. He returned and sat down beside her. The evening passed without much talk. They sat and watched the fire and listened to the music Diana had selected. She read some poetry to him. After that he asked her if she had anything by Rudyard Kipling and she produced a thin volume of his verses. He found what he sought and read aloud The Mary Gloster. Then he kissed a cheek wet with tears and made it damper with his own. A long time later she smothered a yawn. He smiled and spoke. “I’m sleepy, too, but I don’t want to go away and leave you.”

  She looked at him, round eyed and serious.

  “You needn’t leave me, unless you wish.”

  “But—See here, darling, I want to marry you, but I don’t want to rush you into anything you might regret.”

  “Regret? I don’t understand you. But as far as I am concerned we are married now, if you wish it so.”

  “I suppose we could run out tomorrow and have the ceremony performed.”

  “There is no need. These things are in the private sphere. Oh, don’t make it complicated.” She began to cry.

  He hesitated for a moment, then picked her up in his arms and laid her on the widest part of the couch. Then he lay down beside her. A coal in the fire cracked and firelight flickered about the room.

  VI

  Perry pressed back on the control stick and his plane shot higher and higher. He had to fly high because the Princess, his passenger, lived back of the Moon. He struck a bank of keys and plumes of fire shot from the tail of his plane and the plane climbed and climbed. He felt a swelling in joy within him at his own skill and the power of his plane and the warm beautiful knowledge that the Princess loved him and rode beside him. The Princess smiled and reached out a graceful little hand and caressed his face. Her face grew closer to his. The plane and the Moon faded away but the face of the Princess was still close beside him.

  “Awake, darling?” Her head was on the thick of his arm and her hand rested softly on his cheek. He blinked. His eyes blurred and crossed. He blinked again and she came back into focus.

  “Awake? Oh, I guess so. Almost, anyhow. Good morning, beautiful. I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  When their lips parted, he spoke again. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you love me? How did I find you? Why was I singled out for this end? Who am I to claim your love? Why are you so wonderful and beautiful and why do you love me?”

  She laughed and hugged him. “I can’t answer any but the last. I’m not wonderful. I’m a very ordinary human woman with a lot of failings. I’m vain and I’m lazy and sometimes I’m bad tempered and cross. I’m beautiful because you think I am. And I want you to tell me that I’m wonderful and beautiful every morning of my life.”

  “And every night and every day.” He kissed her again.

  Later she stretched and yawned and made little contented sounds. “Hungry?”

  “I guess I am. Yes, I am. If I could make magic in that witch’s den of yours I’d bring you your breakfast in bed.”

  “It won’t take but a moment. But thanks. Will you have yours in bed?”

  “No, I’ll come joggle your elbow and get in your way.” He followed her to the kitchen nook.

  “Tell me, Diana, when were all these fresh fruits delivered?”

  “Last summer, mostly. I unfreeze them as I need them. Father picked out my supplies. He’s in foods.”

  “Your father? Is your father alive?”

  “Surely. Why not?”

  “And your mother?”

  “Yes. She’s a surgeon. Why? Did you think th
ey were dead?”

  “I didn’t think so consciously. I just hadn’t thought about it. You were you. I didn’t fill in your background. Say, does your father keep a shotgun around the house?”

  “Whatever for?”

  “It just seemed possible that he might think I’d wronged our Nell.”

  “Wronged our Nell? What does that mean?”

  “It’s just an expression. What I mean is this: If he knew about us, wouldn’t he disapprove pretty violently? After all we may be married to each other but the world doesn’t know it.”

  “But why should the world know it, or Father, unless we choose to tell him? And even if he didn’t like you—and I’m sure he will—how would that affect us? He would never dream of mentioning it. Listen, Perry, you must realize that marriage, as an institution, has changed enormously. We talked about this once before. Marriage isn’t a public contract anymore. It’s strictly in the private sphere. You and I love each other and want to live together. We are doing so. Therefore we are married.”

  “Then there isn’t any ceremony, nor any contract?”

  “You can have all the ceremony you want if you care to apply to any of the churches. But I hope you won’t ask me to do it. It would embarrass me terribly, and make me feel—well—dirtied.”

  His brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand some of your customs darling, but the way that suits you suits me.”

  “We could draw up a domestic economy contract if you want one. Personally I’d rather not bother. We both have comfortable credit accounts and it would just mean a lot of unnecessary records. Let’s just be casual about it. Even if you didn’t make any money, we probably couldn’t manage to spend my income.”

  “I don’t want to be a gigolo.”

  “What’s a gigolo?”

  “A man who lets a woman support him in exchange for love making.”

  Her lip trembled and tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Perry, you shouldn’t have said that to me.”

  “Sweetheart! Please—Oh, Lord, I’m sorry, I truly am. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but good heavens, I don’t know the customs of this topsy-turvy world.”