064_Anthem

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# ANTHEM

  by Ayn Rand

Contents

| PART ONE | | —- | | PART TWO | | PART THREE > | | PART FOUR | | PART FIVE | | PART SIX | | PART SEVEN | | PART EIGHT | | PART NINE | | PART TEN | | PART ELEVEN | | PART TWELVE |

  PART ONE
  It is a sin to write this. It is a sin to think words no others think and
  to put them down upon a paper no others are to see. It is base and evil.
  It is as if we were speaking alone to no ears but our own. And we know
  well that there is no transgression blacker than to do or think alone. We
  have broken the laws. The laws say that men may not write unless the
  Council of Vocations bid them so. May we be forgiven!
<br />
  But this is not the only sin upon us. We have committed a greater crime,
  and for this crime there is no name. What punishment awaits us if it be
  discovered we know not, for no such crime has come in the memory of men
  and there are no laws to provide for it.
<br />
  It is dark here. The flame of the candle stands still in the air. Nothing
  moves in this tunnel save our hand on the paper. We are alone here under
  the earth. It is a fearful word, alone. The laws say that none among men
  may be alone, ever and at any time, for this is the great transgression
  and the root of all evil. But we have broken many laws. And now there is
  nothing here save our one body, and it is strange to see only two legs
  stretched on the ground, and on the wall before us the shadow of our one
  head.
<br />
  The walls are cracked and water runs upon them in thin threads without
  sound, black and glistening as blood. We stole the candle from the larder
  of the Home of the Street Sweepers. We shall be sentenced to ten years in
  the Palace of Corrective Detention if it be discovered. But this matters
  not. It matters only that the light is precious and we should not waste it
  to write when we need it for that work which is our crime. Nothing matters
  save the work, our secret, our evil, our precious work. Still, we must
  also write, for&mdash;may the Council have mercy upon us!&mdash;we wish to
  speak for once to no ears but our own.
<br />
  Our name is Equality 7-2521, as it is written on the iron bracelet which
  all men wear on their left wrists with their names upon it. We are
  twenty-one years old. We are six feet tall, and this is a burden, for
  there are not many men who are six feet tall. Ever have the Teachers and
  the Leaders pointed to us and frowned and said:
<br />
  &ldquo;There is evil in your bones, Equality 7-2521, for your body has grown
  beyond the bodies of your brothers.&rdquo; But we cannot change our bones nor
  our body.
<br />
  We were born with a curse. It has always driven us to thoughts which are
  forbidden. It has always given us wishes which men may not wish. We know
  that we are evil, but there is no will in us and no power to resist it.
  This is our wonder and our secret fear, that we know and do not resist.
<br />
  We strive to be like all our brother men, for all men must be alike. Over
  the portals of the Palace of the World Council, there are words cut in the
  marble, which we repeat to ourselves whenever we are tempted:
<br />

“WE ARE ONE IN ALL AND ALL IN ONE.
THERE ARE NO MEN BUT ONLY THE GREAT ,
ONE, INDIVISIBLE AND FOREVER.”
We repeat this to ourselves, but it helps us not.
These words were cut long ago. There is green mould in the grooves of the letters and yellow streaks on the marble, which come from more years than men could count. And these words are the truth, for they are written on the Palace of the World Council, and the World Council is the body of all truth. Thus has it been ever since the Great Rebirth, and farther back than that no memory can reach.
But we must never speak of the times before the Great Rebirth, else we are sentenced to three years in the Palace of Corrective Detention. It is only the Old Ones who whisper about it in the evenings, in the Home of the Useless. They whisper many strange things, of the towers which rose to the sky, in those Unmentionable Times, and of the wagons which moved without horses, and of the lights which burned without flame. But those times were evil. And those times passed away, when men saw the Great Truth which is this: that all men are one and that there is no will save the will of all men together.
All men are good and wise. It is only we, Equality 7-2521, we alone who were born with a curse. For we are not like our brothers. And as we look back upon our life, we see that it has ever been thus and that it has brought us step by step to our last, supreme transgression, our crime of crimes hidden here under the ground.
We remember the Home of the Infants where we lived till we were five years old, together with all the children of the City who had been born in the same year. The sleeping halls there were white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds. We were just like all our brothers then, save for the one transgression: we fought with our brothers. There are few offenses blacker than to fight with our brothers, at any age and for any cause whatsoever. The Council of the Home told us so, and of all the children of that year, we were locked in the cellar most often.
When we were five years old, we were sent to the Home of the Students, where there are ten wards, for our ten years of learning. Men must learn till they reach their fifteenth year. Then they go to work. In the Home of the Students we arose when the big bell rang in the tower and we went to our beds when it rang again. Before we removed our garments, we stood in the great sleeping hall, and we raised our right arms, and we said all together with the three Teachers at the head:
“We are nothing. Mankind is all. By the grace of our brothers are we allowed our lives. We exist through, by and for our brothers who are the State. Amen.”
Then we slept. The sleeping halls were white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds.
We, Equality 7-2521, were not happy in those years in the Home of the Students. It was not that the learning was too hard for us. It was that the learning was too easy. This is a great sin, to be born with a head which is too quick. It is not good to be different from our brothers, but it is evil to be superior to them. The Teachers told us so, and they frowned when they looked upon us.
So we fought against this curse. We tried to forget our lessons, but we always remembered. We tried not to understand what the Teachers taught, but we always understood it before the Teachers had spoken. We looked upon Union 5-3992, who were a pale boy with only half a brain, and we tried to say and do as they did, that we might be like them, like Union 5-3992, but somehow the Teachers knew that we were not. And we were lashed more often than all the other children.
The Teachers were just, for they had been appointed by the Councils, and the Councils are the voice of all justice, for they are the voice of all men. And if sometimes, in the secret darkness of our heart, we regret that which befell us on our fifteenth birthday, we know that it was through our own guilt. We had broken a law, for we had not paid heed to the words of our Teachers. The Teachers had said to us all:
“Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do when you leave the Home of the Students. You shall do that which the Council of Vocations shall prescribe for you. For the Council of Vocations knows in its great wisdom where you are needed by your brother men, better than you can know it in your unworthy little minds. And if you are not needed by your brother man, there is no reason for you to burden the earth with your bodies.”
We knew this well, in the years of our childhood, but our curse broke our will. We were guilty and we confess it here: we were guilty of the great Transgression of Preference. We preferred some work and some lessons to the others. We did not listen well to the history of all the Councils elected since the Great Rebirth. But we loved the Science of Things. We wished to know. We wished to know about all the things which make the earth around us. We asked so many questions that the Teachers forbade it.
We think that there are mysteries in the sky and under the water and in the plants which grow. But the Council of Scholars has said that there are no mysteries, and the Council of Scholars knows all things. And we learned much from our Teachers. We learned that the earth is flat and that the sun revolves around it, which causes the day and the night. We learned the names of all the winds which blow over the seas and push the sails of our great ships. We learned how to bleed men to cure them of all ailments.
We loved the Science of Things. And in the darkness, in the secret hour, when we awoke in the night and there were no brothers around us, but only their shapes in the beds and their snores, we closed our eyes, and we held our lips shut, and we stopped our breath, that no shudder might let our brothers see or hear or guess, and we thought that we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars when our time would come.
All the great modern inventions come from the Home of the Scholars, such as the newest one, which was found only a hundred years ago, of how to make candles from wax and string; also, how to make glass, which is put in our windows to protect us from the rain. To find these things, the Scholars must study the earth and learn from the rivers, from the sands, from the winds and the rocks. And if we went to the Home of the Scholars, we could learn from these also. We could ask questions of these, for they do not forbid questions.
And questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us seek we know not what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It whispers to us that there are great things on this earth of ours, and that we can know them if we try, and that we must know them. We ask, why must we know, but it has no answer to give us. We must know that we may know.
So we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars. We wished it so much that our hands trembled under the blankets in the night, and we bit our arm to stop that other pain which we could not endure. It was evil and we dared not face our brothers in the morning. For men may wish nothing for themselves. And we were punished when the Council of Vocations came to give us our life Mandates which tell those who reach their fifteenth year what their work is to be for the rest of their days.
The Council of Vocations came on the first day of spring, and they sat in the great hall. And we who were fifteen and all the Teachers came into the great hall. And the Council of Vocations sat on a high dais, and they had but two words to speak to each of the Students. They called the Students’ names, and when the Students stepped before them, one after another, the Council said: “Carpenter” or “Doctor” or “Cook” or “Leader.” Then each Student raised their right arm and said: “The will of our brothers be done.”
Now if the Council has said “Carpenter” or “Cook,” the Students so assigned go to work and they do not study any further. But if the Council has said “Leader,” then those Students go into the Home of the Leaders, which is the greatest house in the City, for it has three stories. And there they study for many years, so that they may become candidates and be elected to the City Council and the State Council and the World Council—by a free and general vote of all men. But we wished not to be a Leader, even though it is a great honor. We wished to be a Scholar.
So we awaited our turn in the great hall and then we heard the Council of Vocations call our name: “Equality 7-2521.” We walked to the dais, and our legs did not tremble, and we looked up at the Council. There were five members of the Council, three of the male gender and two of the female. Their hair was white and their faces were cracked as the clay of a dry river bed. They were old. They seemed older than the marble of the Temple of the World Council. They sat before us and they did not move. And we saw no breath to stir the folds of their white togas. But we knew that they were alive, for a finger of the hand of the oldest rose, pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only thing which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said: “Street Sweeper.”
We felt the cords of our neck grow tight as our head rose higher to look upon the faces of the Council, and we were happy. We knew we had been guilty, but now we had a way to atone for it. We would accept our Life Mandate, and we would work for our brothers, gladly and willingly, and we would erase our sin against them, which they did not know, but we knew. So we were happy, and proud of ourselves and of our victory over ourselves. We raised our right arm and we spoke, and our voice was the clearest, the steadiest voice in the hall that day, and we said:
“The will of our brothers be done.”
And we looked straight into the eyes of the Council, but their eyes were as cold blue glass buttons.
So we went into the Home of the Street Sweepers. It is a grey house on a narrow street. There is a sundial in its courtyard, by which the Council of the Home can tell the hours of the day and when to ring the bell. When the bell rings, we all arise from our beds. The sky is green and cold in our windows to the east. The shadow on the sundial marks off a half-hour while we dress and eat our breakfast in the dining hall, where there are five long tables with twenty clay plates and twenty clay cups on each table. Then we go to work in the streets of the City, with our brooms and our rakes. In five hours, when the sun is high, we return to the Home and we eat our midday meal, for which one-half hour is allowed. Then we go to work again. In five hours, the shadows are blue on the pavements, and the sky is blue with a deep brightness which is not bright. We come back to have our dinner, which lasts one hour. Then the bell rings and we walk in a straight column to one of the City Halls, for the Social Meeting. Other columns of men arrive from the Homes of the different Trades. The candles are lit, and the Councils of the different Homes stand in a pulpit, and they speak to us of our duties and of our brother men. Then visiting Leaders mount the pulpit and they read to us the speeches which were made in the City Council that day, for the City Council represents all men and all men must know. Then we sing hymns, the Hymn of Brotherhood, and the Hymn of Equality, and the Hymn of the Collective Spirit. The sky is a soggy purple when we return to the Home. Then the bell rings and we walk in a straight column to the City Theatre for three hours of Social Recreation. There a play is shown upon the stage, with two great choruses from the Home of the Actors, which speak and answer all together, in two great voices. The plays are about toil and how good it is. Then we walk back to the Home in a straight column. The sky is like a black sieve pierced by silver drops that tremble, ready to burst through. The moths beat against the street lanterns. We go to our beds and we sleep, till the bell rings again. The sleeping halls are white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds.
Thus have we lived each day of four years, until two springs ago when our crime happened. Thus must all men live until they are forty. At forty, they are worn out. At forty, they are sent to the Home of the Useless, where the Old Ones live. The Old Ones do not work, for the State takes care of them. They sit in the sun in summer and they sit by the fire in winter. They do not speak often, for they are weary. The Old Ones know that they are soon to die. When a miracle happens and some live to be forty-five, they are the Ancient Ones, and the children stare at them when passing by the Home of the Useless. Such is to be our life, as that of all our brothers and of the brothers who came before us.
Such would have been our life, had we not committed our crime which changed all things for us. And it was our curse which drove us to our crime. We had been a good Street Sweeper and like all our brother Street Sweepers, save for our cursed wish to know. We looked too long at the stars at night, and at the trees and the earth. And when we cleaned the yard of the Home of the Scholars, we gathered the glass vials, the pieces of metal, the dried bones which they had discarded. We wished to keep these things and to study them, but we had no place to hide them. So we carried them to the City Cesspool. And then we made the discovery.
It was on a day of the spring before last. We Street Sweepers work in brigades of three, and we were with Union 5-3992, they of the half-brain, and with International 4-8818. Now Union 5-3992 are a sickly lad and sometimes they are stricken with convulsions, when their mouth froths and their eyes turn white. But International 4-8818 are different. They are a tall, strong youth and their eyes are like fireflies, for there is laughter in their eyes. We cannot look upon International 4-8818 and not smile in answer. For this they were not liked in the Home of the Students, as it is not proper to smile without reason. And also they were not liked because they took pieces of coal and they drew pictures upon the walls, and they were pictures which made men laugh. But it is only our brothers in the Home of the Artists who are permitted to draw pictures, so International 4-8818 were sent to the Home of the Street Sweepers, like ourselves.
International 4-8818 and we are friends. This is an evil thing to say, for it is a transgression, the great Transgression of Preference, to love any among men better than the others, since we must love all men and all men are our friends. So International 4-8818 and we have never spoken of it. But we know. We know, when we look into each other’s eyes. And when we look thus without words, we both know other things also, strange things for which there are no words, and these things frighten us.
So on that day of the spring before last, Union 5-3992 were stricken with convulsions on the edge of the City, near the City Theatre. We left them to lie in the shade of the Theatre tent and we went with International 4-8818 to finish our work. We came together to the great ravine behind the Theatre. It is empty save for trees and weeds. Beyond the ravine there is a plain, and beyond the plain there lies the Uncharted Forest, about which men must not think.
We were gathering the papers and the rags which the wind had blown from the Theatre, when we saw an iron bar among the weeds. It was old and rusted by many rains. We pulled with all our strength, but we could not move it. So we called International 4-8818, and together we scraped the earth around the bar. Of a sudden the earth fell in before us, and we saw an old iron grill over a black hole.
International 4-8818 stepped back. But we pulled at the grill and it gave way. And then we saw iron rings as steps leading down a shaft into a darkness without bottom.
“We shall go down,” we said to International 4-8818.
“It is forbidden,” they answered.
We said: “The Council does not know of this hole, so it cannot be forbidden.”
And they answered: “Since the Council does not know of this hole, there can be no law permitting to enter it. And everything which is not permitted by law is forbidden.”
But we said: “We shall go, none the less.”
They were frightened, but they stood by and watched us go.
We hung on the iron rings with our hands and our feet. We could see nothing below us. And above us the hole open upon the sky grew smaller and smaller, till it came to be the size of a button. But still we went down. Then our foot touched the ground. We rubbed our eyes, for we could not see. Then our eyes became used to the darkness, but we could not believe what we saw.
No men known to us could have built this place, nor the men known to our brothers who lived before us, and yet it was built by men. It was a great tunnel. Its walls were hard and smooth to the touch; it felt like stone, but it was not stone. On the ground there were long thin tracks of iron, but it was not iron; it felt smooth and cold as glass. We knelt, and we crawled forward, our hand groping along the iron line to see where it would lead. But there was an unbroken night ahead. Only the iron tracks glowed through it, straight and white, calling us to follow. But we could not follow, for we were losing the puddle of light behind us. So we turned and we crawled back, our hand on the iron line. And our heart beat in our fingertips, without reason. And then we knew.
We knew suddenly that this place was left from the Unmentionable Times. So it was true, and those Times had been, and all the wonders of those Times. Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago men knew secrets which we have lost. And we thought: “This is a foul place. They are damned who touch the things of the Unmentionable Times.” But our hand which followed the track, as we crawled, clung to the iron as if it would not leave it, as if the skin of our hand were thirsty and begging of the metal some secret fluid beating in its coldness.
We returned to the earth. International 4-8818 looked upon us and stepped back.
“Equality 7-2521,” they said, “your face is white.”
But we could not speak and we stood looking upon them.
They backed away, as if they dared not touch us. Then they smiled, but it was not a gay smile; it was lost and pleading. But still we could not speak. Then they said:
“We shall report our find to the City Council and both of us will be rewarded.”
And then we spoke. Our voice was hard and there was no mercy in our voice. We said:
“We shall not report our find to the City Council. We shall not report it to any men.”
They raised their hands to their ears, for never had they heard such words as these.
“International 4-8818,” we asked, “will you report us to the Council and see us lashed to death before your eyes?”
They stood straight all of a sudden and they answered: “Rather would we die.”
“Then,” we said, “keep silent. This place is ours. This place belongs to us, Equality 7-2521, and to no other men on earth. And if ever we surrender it, we shall surrender our life with it also.”
Then we saw that the eyes of International 4-8818 were full to the lids with tears they dared not drop. They whispered, and their voice trembled, so that their words lost all shape:
“The will of the Council is above all things, for it is the will of our brothers, which is holy. But if you wish it so, we shall obey you. Rather shall we be evil with you than good with all our brothers. May the Council have mercy upon both our hearts!”
Then we walked away together and back to the Home of the Street Sweepers. And we walked in silence.
Thus did it come to pass that each night, when the stars are high and the Street Sweepers sit in the City Theatre, we, Equality 7-2521, steal out and run through the darkness to our place. It is easy to leave the Theatre; when the candles are blown out and the Actors come onto the stage, no eyes can see us as we crawl under our seat and under the cloth of the tent. Later, it is easy to steal through the shadows and fall in line next to International 4-8818, as the column leaves the Theatre. It is dark in the streets and there are no men about, for no men may walk through the City when they have no mission to walk there. Each night, we run to the ravine, and we remove the stones which we have piled upon the iron grill to hide it from the men. Each night, for three hours, we are under the earth, alone.
We have stolen candles from the Home of the Street Sweepers, we have stolen flints and knives and paper, and we have brought them to this place. We have stolen glass vials and powders and acids from the Home of the Scholars. Now we sit in the tunnel for three hours each night and we study. We melt strange metals, and we mix acids, and we cut open the bodies of the animals which we find in the City Cesspool. We have built an oven of the bricks we gathered in the streets. We burn the wood we find in the ravine. The fire flickers in the oven and blue shadows dance upon the walls, and there is no sound of men to disturb us.
We have stolen manuscripts. This is a great offense. Manuscripts are precious, for our brothers in the Home of the Clerks spend one year to copy one single script in their clear handwriting. Manuscripts are rare and they are kept in the Home of the Scholars. So we sit under the earth and we read the stolen scripts. Two years have passed since we found this place. And in these two years we have learned more than we had learned in the ten years of the Home of the Students.
We have learned things which are not in the scripts. We have solved secrets of which the Scholars have no knowledge. We have come to see how great is the unexplored, and many lifetimes will not bring us to the end of our quest. But we wish no end to our quest. We wish nothing, save to be alone and to learn, and to feel as if with each day our sight were growing sharper than the hawk’s and clearer than rock crystal.
Strange are the ways of evil. We are false in the faces of our brothers. We are defying the will of our Councils. We alone, of the thousands who walk this earth, we alone in this hour are doing a work which has no purpose save that we wish to do it. The evil of our crime is not for the human mind to probe. The nature of our punishment, if it be discovered, is not for the human heart to ponder. Never, not in the memory of the Ancient Ones’ Ancients, never have men done that which we are doing.
And yet there is no shame in us and no regret. We say to ourselves that we are a wretch and a traitor. But we feel no burden upon our spirit and no fear in our heart. And it seems to us that our spirit is clear as a lake troubled by no eyes save those of the sun. And in our heart—strange are the ways of evil!—in our heart there is the first peace we have known in twenty years.

  PART TWO
  Liberty 5-3000... Liberty five-three thousand ... Liberty 5-3000....
<br />
  We wish to write this name. We wish to speak it, but we dare not speak it
  above a whisper. For men are forbidden to take notice of women, and women
  are forbidden to take notice of men. But we think of one among women, they
  whose name is Liberty 5-3000, and we think of no others. The women who
  have been assigned to work the soil live in the Homes of the Peasants
  beyond the City. Where the City ends there is a great road winding off to
  the north, and we Street Sweepers must keep this road clean to the first
  milepost. There is a hedge along the road, and beyond the hedge lie the
  fields. The fields are black and ploughed, and they lie like a great fan
  before us, with their furrows gathered in some hand beyond the sky,
  spreading forth from that hand, opening wide apart as they come toward us,
  like black pleats that sparkle with thin, green spangles. Women work in
  the fields, and their white tunics in the wind are like the wings of
  sea-gulls beating over the black soil.
<br />
  And there it was that we saw Liberty 5-3000 walking along the furrows.
  Their body was straight and thin as a blade of iron. Their eyes were dark
  and hard and glowing, with no fear in them, no kindness and no guilt.
  Their hair was golden as the sun; their hair flew in the wind, shining and
  wild, as if it defied men to restrain it. They threw seeds from their hand
  as if they deigned to fling a scornful gift, and the earth was a beggar
  under their feet.
<br />
  We stood still; for the first time did we know fear, and then pain. And we
  stood still that we might not spill this pain more precious than pleasure.
<br />
  Then we heard a voice from the others call their name: &ldquo;Liberty 5-3000,&rdquo;
  and they turned and walked back. Thus we learned their name, and we stood
  watching them go, till their white tunic was lost in the blue mist.
<br />
  And the following day, as we came to the northern road, we kept our eyes
  upon Liberty 5-3000 in the field. And each day thereafter we knew the
  illness of waiting for our hour on the northern road. And there we looked
  at Liberty 5-3000 each day. We know not whether they looked at us also,
  but we think they did. Then one day they came close to the hedge, and
  suddenly they turned to us. They turned in a whirl and the movement of
  their body stopped, as if slashed off, as suddenly as it had started. They
  stood still as a stone, and they looked straight upon us, straight into
  our eyes. There was no smile on their face, and no welcome. But their face
  was taut, and their eyes were dark. Then they turned as swiftly, and they
  walked away from us.
<br />
  But the following day, when we came to the road, they smiled. They smiled
  to us and for us. And we smiled in answer. Their head fell back, and their
  arms fell, as if their arms and their thin white neck were stricken
  suddenly with a great lassitude. They were not looking upon us, but upon
  the sky. Then they glanced at us over their shoulder, as we felt as if a
  hand had touched our body, slipping softly from our lips to our feet.
<br />
  Every morning thereafter, we greeted each other with our eyes. We dared
  not speak. It is a transgression to speak to men of other Trades, save in
  groups at the Social Meetings. But once, standing at the hedge, we raised
  our hand to our forehead and then moved it slowly, palm down, toward
  Liberty 5-3000. Had the others seen it, they could have guessed nothing,
  for it looked only as if we were shading our eyes from the sun. But
  Liberty 5-3000 saw it and understood. They raised their hand to their
  forehead and moved it as we had. Thus, each day, we greet Liberty 5-3000,
  and they answer, and no men can suspect.
<br />
  We do not wonder at this new sin of ours. It is our second Transgression
  of Preference, for we do not think of all our brothers, as we must, but
  only of one, and their name is Liberty 5-3000. We do not know why we think
  of them. We do not know why, when we think of them, we feel all of a
  sudden that the earth is good and that it is not a burden to live. We do
  not think of them as Liberty 5-3000 any longer. We have given them a name
  in our thoughts. We call them the Golden One. But it is a sin to give men
  names which distinguish them from other men. Yet we call them the Golden
  One, for they are not like the others. The Golden One are not like the
  others.
<br />
  And we take no heed of the law which says that men may not think of women,
  save at the Time of Mating. This is the time each spring when all the men
  older than twenty and all the women older than eighteen are sent for one
  night to the City Palace of Mating. And each of the men have one of the
  women assigned to them by the Council of Eugenics. Children are born each
  winter, but women never see their children and children never know their
  parents. Twice have we been sent to the Palace of Mating, but it is an
  ugly and shameful matter, of which we do not like to think.
<br />
  We had broken so many laws, and today we have broken one more. Today, we
  spoke to the Golden One.
<br />
  The other women were far off in the field, when we stopped at the hedge by
  the side of the road. The Golden One were kneeling alone at the moat which
  runs through the field. And the drops of water falling from their hands,
  as they raised the water to their lips, were like sparks of fire in the
  sun. Then the Golden One saw us, and they did not move, kneeling there,
  looking at us, and circles of light played upon their white tunic, from
  the sun on the water of the moat, and one sparkling drop fell from a
  finger of their hand held as frozen in the air.
<br />
  Then the Golden One rose and walked to the hedge, as if they had heard a
  command in our eyes. The two other Street Sweepers of our brigade were a
  hundred paces away down the road. And we thought that International 4-8818
  would not betray us, and Union 5-3992 would not understand. So we looked
  straight upon the Golden One, and we saw the shadows of their lashes on
  their white cheeks and the sparks of sun on their lips. And we said:
<br />
  &ldquo;You are beautiful, Liberty 5-3000.&rdquo;
<br />
  Their face did not move and they did not avert their eyes. Only their eyes
  grew wider, and there was triumph in their eyes, and it was not triumph
  over us, but over things we could not guess.
<br />
  Then they asked:
<br />
  &ldquo;What is your name?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;Equality 7-2521,&rdquo; we answered.
<br />
  &ldquo;You are not one of our brothers, Equality 7-2521, for we do not wish you
  to be.&rdquo;
<br />
  We cannot say what they meant, for there are no words for their meaning,
  but we know it without words and we knew it then.
<br />
  &ldquo;No,&rdquo; we answered, &ldquo;nor are you one of our sisters.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;If you see us among scores of women, will you look upon us?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;We shall look upon you, Liberty 5-3000, if we see you among all the women
  of the earth.&rdquo;
<br />
  Then they asked:
<br />
  &ldquo;Are Street Sweepers sent to different parts of the City or do they always
  work in the same places?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;They always work in the same places,&rdquo; we answered, &ldquo;and no one will take
  this road away from us.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;Your eyes,&rdquo; they said, &ldquo;are not like the eyes of any among men.&rdquo;
<br />
  And suddenly, without cause for the thought which came to us, we felt
  cold, cold to our stomach.
<br />
  &ldquo;How old are you?&rdquo; we asked.
<br />
  They understood our thought, for they lowered their eyes for the first
  time.
<br />
  &ldquo;Seventeen,&rdquo; they whispered.
<br />
  And we sighed, as if a burden had been taken from us, for we had been
  thinking without reason of the Palace of Mating. And we thought that we
  would not let the Golden One be sent to the Palace. How to prevent it, how
  to bar the will of the Councils, we knew not, but we knew suddenly that we
  would. Only we do not know why such thought came to us, for these ugly
  matters bear no relation to us and the Golden One. What relation can they
  bear?
<br />
  Still, without reason, as we stood there by the hedge, we felt our lips
  drawn tight with hatred, a sudden hatred for all our brother men. And the
  Golden One saw it and smiled slowly, and there was in their smile the
  first sadness we had seen in them. We think that in the wisdom of women
  the Golden One had understood more than we can understand.
<br />
  Then three of the sisters in the field appeared, coming toward the road,
  so the Golden One walked away from us. They took the bag of seeds, and
  they threw the seeds into the furrows of earth as they walked away. But
  the seeds flew wildly, for the hand of the Golden One was trembling.
<br />
  Yet as we walked back to the Home of the Street Sweepers, we felt that we
  wanted to sing, without reason. So we were reprimanded tonight, in the
  dining hall, for without knowing it we had begun to sing aloud some tune
  we had never heard. But it is not proper to sing without reason, save at
  the Social Meetings.
<br />
  &ldquo;We are singing because we are happy,&rdquo; we answered the one of the Home
  Council who reprimanded us.
<br />
  &ldquo;Indeed you are happy,&rdquo; they answered. &ldquo;How else can men be when they live
  for their brothers?&rdquo;
<br />
  And now, sitting here in our tunnel, we wonder about these words. It is
  forbidden, not to be happy. For, as it has been explained to us, men are
  free and the earth belongs to them; and all things on earth belong to all
  men; and the will of all men together is good for all; and so all men must
  be happy.
<br />
  Yet as we stand at night in the great hall, removing our garments for
  sleep, we look upon our brothers and we wonder. The heads of our brothers
  are bowed. The eyes of our brothers are dull, and never do they look one
  another in the eyes. The shoulders of our brothers are hunched, and their
  muscles are drawn, as if their bodies were shrinking and wished to shrink
  out of sight. And a word steals into our mind, as we look upon our
  brothers, and that word is fear.
<br />
  There is fear hanging in the air of the sleeping halls, and in the air of
  the streets. Fear walks through the City, fear without name, without
  shape. All men feel it and none dare to speak.
<br />
  We feel it also, when we are in the Home of the Street Sweepers. But here,
  in our tunnel, we feel it no longer. The air is pure under the ground.
  There is no odor of men. And these three hours give us strength for our
  hours above the ground.
<br />
  Our body is betraying us, for the Council of the Home looks with suspicion
  upon us. It is not good to feel too much joy nor to be glad that our body
  lives. For we matter not and it must not matter to us whether we live or
  die, which is to be as our brothers will it. But we, Equality 7-2521, are
  glad to be living. If this is a vice, then we wish no virtue.
<br />
  Yet our brothers are not like us. All is not well with our brothers. There
  are Fraternity 2-5503, a quiet boy with wise, kind eyes, who cry suddenly,
  without reason, in the midst of day or night, and their body shakes with
  sobs they cannot explain. There are Solidarity 9-6347, who are a bright
  youth, without fear in the day; but they scream in their sleep, and they
  scream: &ldquo;Help us! Help us! Help us!&rdquo; into the night, in a voice which
  chills our bones, but the Doctors cannot cure Solidarity 9-6347.
<br />
  And as we all undress at night, in the dim light of the candles, our
  brothers are silent, for they dare not speak the thoughts of their minds.
  For all must agree with all, and they cannot know if their thoughts are
  the thoughts of all, and so they fear to speak. And they are glad when the
  candles are blown for the night. But we, Equality 7-2521, look through the
  window upon the sky, and there is peace in the sky, and cleanliness, and
  dignity. And beyond the City there lies the plain, and beyond the plain,
  black upon the black sky, there lies the Uncharted Forest.
<br />
  We do not wish to look upon the Uncharted Forest. We do not wish to think
  of it. But ever do our eyes return to that black patch upon the sky. Men
  never enter the Uncharted Forest, for there is no power to explore it and
  no path to lead among its ancient trees which stand as guards of fearful
  secrets. It is whispered that once or twice in a hundred years, one among
  the men of the City escape alone and run to the Uncharted Forest, without
  call or reason. These men do not return. They perish from hunger and from
  the claws of the wild beasts which roam the Forest. But our Councils say
  that this is only a legend. We have heard that there are many Uncharted
  Forests over the land, among the Cities. And it is whispered that they
  have grown over the ruins of many cities of the Unmentionable Times. The
  trees have swallowed the ruins, and the bones under the ruins, and all the
  things which perished. And as we look upon the Uncharted Forest far in the
  night, we think of the secrets of the Unmentionable Times. And we wonder
  how it came to pass that these secrets were lost to the world. We have
  heard the legends of the great fighting, in which many men fought on one
  side and only a few on the other. These few were the Evil Ones and they
  were conquered. Then great fires raged over the land. And in these fires
  the Evil Ones and all the things made by the Evil Ones were burned. And
  the fire which is called the Dawn of the Great Rebirth, was the Script
  Fire where all the scripts of the Evil Ones were burned, and with them all
  the words of the Evil Ones. Great mountains of flame stood in the squares
  of the Cities for three months. Then came the Great Rebirth.
<br />
  The words of the Evil Ones... The words of the Unmentionable Times... What
  are the words which we have lost?
<br />
  May the Council have mercy upon us! We had no wish to write such a
  question, and we knew not what we were doing till we had written it. We
  shall not ask this question and we shall not think it. We shall not call
  death upon our head.
<br />
  And yet... And yet... There is some word, one single word which is not in
  the language of men, but which had been. And this is the Unspeakable Word,
  which no men may speak nor hear. But sometimes, and it is rare, sometimes,
  somewhere, one among men find that word. They find it upon scraps of old
  manuscripts or cut into the fragments of ancient stones. But when they
  speak it they are put to death. There is no crime punished by death in
  this world, save this one crime of speaking the Unspeakable Word.
<br />
  We have seen one of such men burned alive in the square of the City. And
  it was a sight which has stayed with us through the years, and it haunts
  us, and follows us, and it gives us no rest. We were a child then, ten
  years old. And we stood in the great square with all the children and all
  the men of the City, sent to behold the burning. They brought the
  Transgressor out into the square and they led them to the pyre. They had
  torn out the tongue of the Transgressor, so that they could speak no
  longer. The Transgressor were young and tall. They had hair of gold and
  eyes blue as morning. They walked to the pyre, and their step did not
  falter. And of all the faces on that square, of all the faces which
  shrieked and screamed and spat curses upon them, theirs was the calmest
  and the happiest face.
<br />
  As the chains were wound over their body at the stake, and a flame set to
  the pyre, the Transgressor looked upon the City. There was a thin thread
  of blood running from the corner of their mouth, but their lips were
  smiling. And a monstrous thought came to us then, which has never left us.
  We had heard of Saints. There are the Saints of Labor, and the Saints of
  the Councils, and the Saints of the Great Rebirth. But we had never seen a
  Saint nor what the likeness of a Saint should be. And we thought then,
  standing in the square, that the likeness of a Saint was the face we saw
  before us in the flames, the face of the Transgressor of the Unspeakable
  Word.
<br />
  As the flames rose, a thing happened which no eyes saw but ours, else we
  would not be living today. Perhaps it had only seemed to us. But it seemed
  to us that the eyes of the Transgressor had chosen us from the crowd and
  were looking straight upon us. There was no pain in their eyes and no
  knowledge of the agony of their body. There was only joy in them, and
  pride, a pride holier than is fit for human pride to be. And it seemed as
  if these eyes were trying to tell us something through the flames, to send
  into our eyes some word without sound. And it seemed as if these eyes were
  begging us to gather that word and not to let it go from us and from the
  earth. But the flames rose and we could not guess the word....
<br />
  What&mdash;even if we have to burn for it like the Saint of the Pyre&mdash;what
  is the Unspeakable Word?

  PART THREE
  We, Equality 7-2521, have discovered a new power of nature. And we have
  discovered it alone, and we alone are to know it.
<br />
  It is said. Now let us be lashed for it, if we must. The Council of
  Scholars has said that we all know the things which exist and therefore
  the things which are not known by all do not exist. But we think that the
  Council of Scholars is blind. The secrets of this earth are not for all
  men to see, but only for those who will seek them. We know, for we have
  found a secret unknown to all our brothers.
<br />
  We know not what this power is nor whence it comes. But we know its
  nature, we have watched it and worked with it. We saw it first two years
  ago. One night, we were cutting open the body of a dead frog when we saw
  its leg jerking. It was dead, yet it moved. Some power unknown to men was
  making it move. We could not understand it. Then, after many tests, we
  found the answer. The frog had been hanging on a wire of copper; and it
  had been the metal of our knife which had sent the strange power to the
  copper through the brine of the frog&rsquo;s body. We put a piece of copper and
  a piece of zinc into a jar of brine, we touched a wire to them, and there,
  under our fingers, was a miracle which had never occurred before, a new
  miracle and a new power.
<br />
  This discovery haunted us. We followed it in preference to all our
  studies. We worked with it, we tested it in more ways than we can
  describe, and each step was as another miracle unveiling before us. We
  came to know that we had found the greatest power on earth. For it defies
  all the laws known to men. It makes the needle move and turn on the
  compass which we stole from the Home of the Scholars; but we had been
  taught, when still a child, that the loadstone points to the north and
  that this is a law which nothing can change; yet our new power defies all
  laws. We found that it causes lightning, and never have men known what
  causes lightning. In thunderstorms, we raised a tall rod of iron by the
  side of our hole, and we watched it from below. We have seen the lightning
  strike it again and again. And now we know that metal draws the power of
  the sky, and that metal can be made to give it forth.
<br />
  We have built strange things with this discovery of ours. We used for it
  the copper wires which we found here under the ground. We have walked the
  length of our tunnel, with a candle lighting the way. We could go no
  farther than half a mile, for earth and rock had fallen at both ends. But
  we gathered all the things we found and we brought them to our work place.
  We found strange boxes with bars of metal inside, with many cords and
  strands and coils of metal. We found wires that led to strange little
  globes of glass on the walls; they contained threads of metal thinner than
  a spider&rsquo;s web.
<br />
  These things help us in our work. We do not understand them, but we think
  that the men of the Unmentionable Times had known our power of the sky,
  and these things had some relation to it. We do not know, but we shall
  learn. We cannot stop now, even though it frightens us that we are alone
  in our knowledge.
<br />
  No single one can possess greater wisdom than the many Scholars who are
  elected by all men for their wisdom. Yet we can. We do. We have fought
  against saying it, but now it is said. We do not care. We forget all men,
  all laws and all things save our metals and our wires. So much is still to
  be learned! So long a road lies before us, and what care we if we must
  travel it alone!

  PART FOUR
  Many days passed before we could speak to the Golden One again. But then
  came the day when the sky turned white, as if the sun had burst and spread
  its flame in the air, and the fields lay still without breath, and the
  dust of the road was white in the glow. So the women of the field were
  weary, and they tarried over their work, and they were far from the road
  when we came. But the Golden One stood alone at the hedge, waiting. We
  stopped and we saw that their eyes, so hard and scornful to the world,
  were looking at us as if they would obey any word we might speak.
<br />
  And we said:
<br />
  &ldquo;We have given you a name in our thoughts, Liberty 5-3000.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;What is our name?&rdquo; they asked.
<br />
  &ldquo;The Golden One.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;Nor do we call you Equality 7-2521 when we think of you.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;What name have you given us?&rdquo; They looked straight into our eyes and they
  held their head high and they answered:
<br />
  &ldquo;The Unconquered.&rdquo;
<br />
  For a long time we could not speak. Then we said:
<br />
  &ldquo;Such thoughts as these are forbidden, Golden One.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;But you think such thoughts as these and you wish us to think them.&rdquo;
<br />
  We looked into their eyes and we could not lie.
<br />
  &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; we whispered, and they smiled, and then we said: &ldquo;Our dearest one,
  do not obey us.&rdquo;
<br />
  They stepped back, and their eyes were wide and still.
<br />
  &ldquo;Speak these words again,&rdquo; they whispered.
<br />
  &ldquo;Which words?&rdquo; we asked. But they did not answer, and we knew it.
<br />
  &ldquo;Our dearest one,&rdquo; we whispered.
<br />
  Never have men said this to women.
<br />
  The head of the Golden One bowed slowly, and they stood still before us,
  their arms at their sides, the palms of their hands turned to us, as if
  their body were delivered in submission to our eyes. And we could not
  speak.
<br />
  Then they raised their head, and they spoke simply and gently, as if they
  wished us to forget some anxiety of their own.
<br />
  &ldquo;The day is hot,&rdquo; they said, &ldquo;and you have worked for many hours and you
  must be weary.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;No,&rdquo; we answered.
<br />
  &ldquo;It is cooler in the fields,&rdquo; they said, &ldquo;and there is water to drink. Are
  you thirsty?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; we answered, &ldquo;but we cannot cross the hedge.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;We shall bring the water to you,&rdquo; they said.
<br />
  Then they knelt by the moat, they gathered water in their two hands, they
  rose and they held the water out to our lips.
<br />
  We do not know if we drank that water. We only knew suddenly that their
  hands were empty, but we were still holding our lips to their hands, and
  that they knew it, but did not move.
<br />
  We raised our head and stepped back. For we did not understand what had
  made us do this, and we were afraid to understand it.
<br />
  And the Golden One stepped back, and stood looking upon their hands in
  wonder. Then the Golden One moved away, even though no others were coming,
  and they moved, stepping back, as if they could not turn from us, their
  arms bent before them, as if they could not lower their hands.

  PART FIVE
  We made it. We created it. We brought it forth from the night of the ages.
  We alone. Our hands. Our mind. Ours alone and only.
<br />
  We know not what we are saying. Our head is reeling. We look upon the
  light which we have made. We shall be forgiven for anything we say
  tonight....
<br />
  Tonight, after more days and trials than we can count, we finished
  building a strange thing, from the remains of the Unmentionable Times, a
  box of glass, devised to give forth the power of the sky of greater
  strength than we had ever achieved before. And when we put our wires to
  this box, when we closed the current&mdash;the wire glowed! It came to
  life, it turned red, and a circle of light lay on the stone before us.
<br />
  We stood, and we held our head in our hands. We could not conceive of that
  which we had created. We had touched no flint, made no fire. Yet here was
  light, light that came from nowhere, light from the heart of metal.
<br />
  We blew out the candle. Darkness swallowed us. There was nothing left
  around us, nothing save night and a thin thread of flame in it, as a crack
  in the wall of a prison. We stretched our hands to the wire, and we saw
  our fingers in the red glow. We could not see our body nor feel it, and in
  that moment nothing existed save our two hands over a wire glowing in a
  black abyss.
<br />
  Then we thought of the meaning of that which lay before us. We can light
  our tunnel, and the City, and all the Cities of the world with nothing
  save metal and wires. We can give our brothers a new light, cleaner and
  brighter than any they have ever known. The power of the sky can be made
  to do men&rsquo;s bidding. There are no limits to its secrets and its might, and
  it can be made to grant us anything if we but choose to ask.
<br />
  Then we knew what we must do. Our discovery is too great for us to waste
  our time in sweeping the streets. We must not keep our secret to
  ourselves, nor buried under the ground. We must bring it into the sight of
  all men. We need all our time, we need the work rooms of the Home of the
  Scholars, we want the help of our brother Scholars and their wisdom joined
  to ours. There is so much work ahead for all of us, for all the Scholars
  of the world.
<br />
  In a month, the World Council of Scholars is to meet in our City. It is a
  great Council, to which the wisest of all lands are elected, and it meets
  once a year in the different Cities of the earth. We shall go to this
  Council and we shall lay before them, as our gift, this glass box with the
  power of the sky. We shall confess everything to them. They will see,
  understand and forgive. For our gift is greater than our transgression.
  They will explain it to the Council of Vocations, and we shall be assigned
  to the Home of the Scholars. This has never been done before, but neither
  has a gift such as ours ever been offered to men.
<br />
  We must wait. We must guard our tunnel as we had never guarded it before.
  For should any men save the Scholars learn of our secret, they would not
  understand it, nor would they believe us. They would see nothing, save our
  crime of working alone, and they would destroy us and our light. We care
  not about our body, but our light is...
<br />
  Yes, we do care. For the first time do we care about our body. For this
  wire is as a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our
  blood. Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made
  it, or is there a line to divide these two?
<br />
  We stretch out our arms. For the first time do we know how strong our arms
  are. And a strange thought comes to us: we wonder, for the first time in
  our life, what we look like. Men never see their own faces and never ask
  their brothers about it, for it is evil to have concern for their own
  faces or bodies. But tonight, for a reason we cannot fathom, we wish it
  were possible to us to know the likeness of our own person.

  PART SIX
  We have not written for thirty days. For thirty days we have not been
  here, in our tunnel. We had been caught. It happened on that night when we
  wrote last. We forgot, that night, to watch the sand in the glass which
  tells us when three hours have passed and it is time to return to the City
  Theatre. When we remembered it, the sand had run out.
<br />
  We hastened to the Theatre. But the big tent stood grey and silent against
  the sky. The streets of the City lay before us, dark and empty. If we went
  back to hide in our tunnel, we would be found and our light found with us.
  So we walked to the Home of the Street Sweepers.
<br />
  When the Council of the Home questioned us, we looked upon the faces of
  the Council, but there was no curiosity in those faces, and no anger, and
  no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked us: &ldquo;Where have you been?&rdquo; we
  thought of our glass box and of our light, and we forgot all else. And we
  answered:
<br />
  &ldquo;We will not tell you.&rdquo;
<br />
  The oldest did not question us further. They turned to the two youngest,
  and said, and their voice was bored:
<br />
  &ldquo;Take our brother Equality 7-2521 to the Palace of Corrective Detention.
  Lash them until they tell.&rdquo;
<br />
  So we were taken to the Stone Room under the Palace of Corrective
  Detention. This room has no windows and it is empty save for an iron post.
  Two men stood by the post, naked but for leather aprons and leather hoods
  over their faces. Those who had brought us departed, leaving us to the two
  Judges who stood in a corner of the room. The Judges were small, thin men,
  grey and bent. They gave the signal to the two strong hooded ones.
<br />
  They tore the clothes from our body, they threw us down upon our knees and
  they tied our hands to the iron post. The first blow of the lash felt as
  if our spine had been cut in two. The second blow stopped the first, and
  for a second we felt nothing, then the pain struck us in our throat and
  fire ran in our lungs without air. But we did not cry out.
<br />
  The lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, but we
  lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our back. Only we
  felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancing before
  our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill, a grill of
  red squares, and then we knew that we were looking at the squares of the
  iron grill in the door, and there were also the squares of stone on the
  walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting upon our back, crossing
  and re-crossing itself in our flesh.
<br />
  Then we saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw the red
  froth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the Judge asked:
<br />
  &ldquo;Where have you been?&rdquo;
<br />
  But we jerked our head away, hid our face upon our tied hands, and bit our
  lips.
<br />
  The lash whistled again. We wondered who was sprinkling burning coal dust
  upon the floor, for we saw drops of red twinkling on the stones around us.
<br />
  Then we knew nothing, save two voices snarling steadily, one after the
  other, even though we knew they were speaking many minutes apart:
<br />
  &ldquo;Where have you been where have you been where have you been where have
  you been?...&rdquo;
<br />
  And our lips moved, but the sound trickled back into our throat, and the
  sound was only:
<br />
  &ldquo;The light... The light... The light....&rdquo;
<br />
  Then we knew nothing.
<br />
  We opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor of a cell. We
  looked upon two hands lying far before us on the bricks, and we moved
  them, and we knew that they were our hands. But we could not move our
  body. Then we smiled, for we thought of the light and that we had not
  betrayed it.
<br />
  We lay in our cell for many days. The door opened twice each day, once for
  the men who brought us bread and water, and once for the Judges. Many
  Judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then the most honored
  Judges of the City. They stood before us in their white togas, and they
  asked:
<br />
  &ldquo;Are you ready to speak?&rdquo;
<br />
  But we shook our head, lying before them on the floor. And they departed.
<br />
  We counted each day and each night as it passed. Then, tonight, we knew
  that we must escape. For tomorrow the World Council of Scholars is to meet
  in our City.
<br />
  It was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention. The locks
  are old on the doors and there are no guards about. There is no reason to
  have guards, for men have never defied the Councils so far as to escape
  from whatever place they were ordered to be. Our body is healthy and
  strength returns to it speedily. We lunged against the door and it gave
  way. We stole through the dark passages, and through the dark streets, and
  down into our tunnel.
<br />
  We lit the candle and we saw that our place had not been found and nothing
  had been touched. And our glass box stood before us on the cold oven, as
  we had left it. What matter they now, the scars upon our back!
<br />
  Tomorrow, in the full light of day, we shall take our box, and leave our
  tunnel open, and walk through the streets to the Home of the Scholars. We
  shall put before them the greatest gift ever offered to men. We shall tell
  them the truth. We shall hand to them, as our confession, these pages we
  have written. We shall join our hands to theirs, and we shall work
  together, with the power of the sky, for the glory of mankind. Our
  blessing upon you, our brothers! Tomorrow, you will take us back into your
  fold and we shall be an outcast no longer. Tomorrow we shall be one of you
  again. Tomorrow...

  PART SEVEN
  It is dark here in the forest. The leaves rustle over our head, black
  against the last gold of the sky. The moss is soft and warm. We shall
  sleep on this moss for many nights, till the beasts of the forest come to
  tear our body. We have no bed now, save the moss, and no future, save the
  beasts.
<br />
  We are old now, yet we were young this morning, when we carried our glass
  box through the streets of the City to the Home of the Scholars. No men
  stopped us, for there were none about from the Palace of Corrective
  Detention, and the others knew nothing. No men stopped us at the gate. We
  walked through empty passages and into the great hall where the World
  Council of Scholars sat in solemn meeting.
<br />
  We saw nothing as we entered, save the sky in the great windows, blue and
  glowing. Then we saw the Scholars who sat around a long table; they were
  as shapeless clouds huddled at the rise of the great sky. There were men
  whose famous names we knew, and others from distant lands whose names we
  had not heard. We saw a great painting on the wall over their heads, of
  the twenty illustrious men who had invented the candle.
<br />
  All the heads of the Council turned to us as we entered. These great and
  wise of the earth did not know what to think of us, and they looked upon
  us with wonder and curiosity, as if we were a miracle. It is true that our
  tunic was torn and stained with brown stains which had been blood. We
  raised our right arm and we said:
<br />
  &ldquo;Our greeting to you, our honored brothers of the World Council of
  Scholars!&rdquo;
<br />
  Then Collective 0-0009, the oldest and wisest of the Council, spoke and
  asked:
<br />
  &ldquo;Who are you, our brother? For you do not look like a Scholar.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;Our name is Equality 7-2521,&rdquo; we answered, &ldquo;and we are a Street Sweeper
  of this City.&rdquo;
<br />
  Then it was as if a great wind had stricken the hall, for all the Scholars
  spoke at once, and they were angry and frightened.
<br />
  &ldquo;A Street Sweeper! A Street Sweeper walking in upon the World Council of
  Scholars! It is not to be believed! It is against all the rules and all
  the laws!&rdquo;
<br />
  But we knew how to stop them.
<br />
  &ldquo;Our brothers!&rdquo; we said. &ldquo;We matter not, nor our transgression. It is only
  our brother men who matter. Give no thought to us, for we are nothing, but
  listen to our words, for we bring you a gift such as had never been
  brought to men. Listen to us, for we hold the future of mankind in our
  hands.&rdquo;
<br />
  Then they listened.
<br />
  We placed our glass box upon the table before them. We spoke of it, and of
  our long quest, and of our tunnel, and of our escape from the Palace of
  Corrective Detention. Not a hand moved in that hall, as we spoke, nor an
  eye. Then we put the wires to the box, and they all bent forward and sat
  still, watching. And we stood still, our eyes upon the wire. And slowly,
  slowly as a flush of blood, a red flame trembled in the wire. Then the
  wire glowed.
<br />
  But terror struck the men of the Council. They leapt to their feet, they
  ran from the table, and they stood pressed against the wall, huddled
  together, seeking the warmth of one another&rsquo;s bodies to give them courage.
<br />
  We looked upon them and we laughed and said:
<br />
  &ldquo;Fear nothing, our brothers. There is a great power in these wires, but
  this power is tamed. It is yours. We give it to you.&rdquo;
<br />
  Still they would not move.
<br />
  &ldquo;We give you the power of the sky!&rdquo; we cried. &ldquo;We give you the key to the
  earth! Take it, and let us be one of you, the humblest among you. Let us
  all work together, and harness this power, and make it ease the toil of
  men. Let us throw away our candles and our torches. Let us flood our
  cities with light. Let us bring a new light to men!&rdquo;
<br />
  But they looked upon us, and suddenly we were afraid. For their eyes were
  still, and small, and evil.
<br />
  &ldquo;Our brothers!&rdquo; we cried. &ldquo;Have you nothing to say to us?&rdquo;
<br />
  Then Collective 0-0009 moved forward. They moved to the table and the
  others followed.
<br />
  &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; spoke Collective 0-0009, &ldquo;we have much to say to you.&rdquo;
<br />
  The sound of their voices brought silence to the hall and to beat of our
  heart.
<br />
  &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Collective 0-0009, &ldquo;we have much to say to a wretch who have
  broken all the laws and who boast of their infamy!
<br />
  &ldquo;How dared you think that your mind held greater wisdom than the minds of
  your brothers? And if the Councils had decreed that you should be a Street
  Sweeper, how dared you think that you could be of greater use to men than
  in sweeping the streets?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;How dared you, gutter cleaner,&rdquo; spoke Fraternity 9-3452, &ldquo;to hold
  yourself as one alone and with the thoughts of the one and not of the
  many?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;You shall be burned at the stake,&rdquo; said Democracy 4-6998.
<br />
  &ldquo;No, they shall be lashed,&rdquo; said Unanimity 7-3304, &ldquo;till there is nothing
  left under the lashes.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Collective 0-0009, &ldquo;we cannot decide upon this, our brothers.
  No such crime has ever been committed, and it is not for us to judge. Nor
  for any small Council. We shall deliver this creature to the World Council
  itself and let their will be done.&rdquo;
<br />
  We looked upon them and we pleaded:
<br />
  &ldquo;Our brothers! You are right. Let the will of the Council be done upon our
  body. We do not care. But the light? What will you do with the light?&rdquo;
<br />
  Collective 0-0009 looked upon us, and they smiled.
<br />
  &ldquo;So you think that you have found a new power,&rdquo; said Collective 0-0009.
  &ldquo;Do all your brothers think that?&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;No,&rdquo; we answered.
<br />
  &ldquo;What is not thought by all men cannot be true,&rdquo; said Collective 0-0009.
<br />
  &ldquo;You have worked on this alone?&rdquo; asked International 1-5537.
<br />
  &ldquo;Many men in the Homes of the Scholars have had strange new ideas in the
  past,&rdquo; said Solidarity 8-1164, &ldquo;but when the majority of their brother
  Scholars voted against them, they abandoned their ideas, as all men must.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;This box is useless,&rdquo; said Alliance 6-7349.
<br />
  &ldquo;Should it be what they claim of it,&rdquo; said Harmony 9-2642, &ldquo;then it would
  bring ruin to the Department of Candles. The Candle is a great boon to
  mankind, as approved by all men. Therefore it cannot be destroyed by the
  whim of one.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;This would wreck the Plans of the World Council,&rdquo; said Unanimity 2-9913,
  &ldquo;and without the Plans of the World Council the sun cannot rise. It took
  fifty years to secure the approval of all the Councils for the Candle, and
  to decide upon the number needed, and to re-fit the Plans so as to make
  candles instead of torches. This touched upon thousands and thousands of
  men working in scores of States. We cannot alter the Plans again so soon.&rdquo;
<br />
  &ldquo;And if this should lighten the toil of men,&rdquo; said Similarity 5-0306,
  &ldquo;then it is a great evil, for men have no cause to exist save in toiling
  for other men.&rdquo;
<br />
  Then Collective 0-0009 rose and pointed at our box.
<br />
  &ldquo;This thing,&rdquo; they said, &ldquo;must be destroyed.&rdquo;
<br />
  And all the others cried as one:
<br />
  &ldquo;It must be destroyed!&rdquo;
<br />
  Then we leapt to the table.
<br />
  We seized our box, we shoved them aside, and we ran to the window. We
  turned and we looked at them for the last time, and a rage, such as it is
  not fit for humans to know, choked our voice in our throat.
<br />
  &ldquo;You fools!&rdquo; we cried. &ldquo;You fools! You thrice-damned fools!&rdquo;
<br />
  We swung our fist through the windowpane, and we leapt out in a ringing
  rain of glass.
<br />
  We fell, but we never let the box fall from our hands. Then we ran. We ran
  blindly, and men and houses streaked past us in a torrent without shape.
  And the road seemed not to be flat before us, but as if it were leaping up
  to meet us, and we waited for the earth to rise and strike us in the face.
  But we ran. We knew not where we were going. We knew only that we must
  run, run to the end of the world, to the end of our days.
<br />
  Then we knew suddenly that we were lying on a soft earth and that we had
  stopped. Trees taller than we had ever seen before stood over us in great
  silence. Then we knew. We were in the Uncharted Forest. We had not thought
  of coming here, but our legs had carried our wisdom, and our legs had
  brought us to the Uncharted Forest against our will.
<br />
  Our glass box lay beside us. We crawled to it, we fell upon it, our face
  in our arms, and we lay still.
<br />
  We lay thus for a long time. Then we rose, we took our box and walked on
  into the forest.
<br />
  It mattered not where we went. We knew that men would not follow us, for
  they never enter the Uncharted Forest. We had nothing to fear from them.
  The forest disposes of its own victims. This gave us no fear either. Only
  we wished to be away, away from the City and from the air that touches
  upon the air of the City. So we walked on, our box in our arms, our heart
  empty.
<br />
  We are doomed. Whatever days are left to us, we shall spend them alone.
  And we have heard of the corruption to be found in solitude. We have torn
  ourselves from the truth which is our brother men, and there is no road
  back for us, and no redemption.
<br />
  We know these things, but we do not care. We care for nothing on earth. We
  are tired.
<br />
  Only the glass box in our arms is like a living heart that gives us
  strength. We have lied to ourselves. We have not built this box for the
  good of our brothers. We built it for its own sake. It is above all our
  brothers to us, and its truth above their truth. Why wonder about this? We
  have not many days to live. We are walking to the fangs awaiting us
  somewhere among the great, silent trees. There is not a thing behind us to
  regret.
<br />
  Then a blow of pain struck us, our first and our only. We thought of the
  Golden One. We thought of the Golden One whom we shall never see again.
  Then the pain passed. It is best. We are one of the Damned. It is best if
  the Golden One forget our name and the body which bore that name.