This argument seemed sound enough to me. There really are considerable differences between the two commands, even though the talks have tried to stress the links between Level 6 and ourselves. Today the speaker emphasised the fact that Levels 6 and 7 are the military nerve-centres of our country, and that all the other levels are for civilians only. In the functional sense, broadly speaking, we are one unit.
This is the reason why the two levels were organised along such similar lines, we were told. And though Level 6 is 1,400 feet nearer the surface—for purely technical reasons—it is in the same area. In fact, it is directly above our heads, which makes us close together in the physical sense. (I think there must be some very close communication between the two levels. Otherwise why locate them in the same area?) Moreover, there is only one Level 6, as there is one Level 7. Other levels, the speaker told us, do not have this characteristic: they are dispersed in several units, the number of which varies from level to level in a way which will be explained to us in a later talk.
This sounds interesting. I look forward to hearing what happens on the other five levels.
MAY 17
P does not understand why I am so interested in the ‘Know Other Levels’ talks. She seems to find them rather boring. I get the impression that even psychology has lost some of its fascination for her. Her main interest now is myself—as her husband.
Perhaps I should not be surprised at this—it is the way women often behave. They can concentrate all their life around the life of somebody else, around one special person. As long as P has me, or thinks she has me, she does not mind anything else, is not interested in other levels, feels quite happy on Level 7.
I wonder how she would react if the loudspeaker suddenly announced that we were all to go back up to the surface. Would it make a great difference to her?
If P’s interest in psychological problems has waned, mine has grown. Maybe her influence has brought this about: perhaps she has transferred her professional interests to me and so somehow got them out of her own system. It may well be so, for we are together a great deal. Not only does she never miss—or allow me to miss—the daily meetings which we, as a married couple, are entitled to; but she also monopolises all my time in the lounge (not that I particularly want to talk to R-747 these days) and often finds ways of seeing me on other occasions.
If I am not busy and she happens to be free too, she takes me into her psychology department, where we can talk. There we are, all by ourselves in a little room containing a very narrow couch with a chair behind it, used for psycho-analytical sessions. P makes me lie down and takes the seat behind me. She can watch me, while I look at the wall opposite me (which I do not mind). Just as if I were a patient. Except that she does all the talking and I only listen.
Sometimes I do not even listen. I just muse. I have become so used to her chatter that it does not disturb my own train of thought.
Today P is cross with me because I turned down her suggestion that we should meet in the psychology room. I said I wanted to listen to the ‘Know Other Levels’ talk. I did not mean to annoy her, but for once I wanted to have my own way, because these talks interest me. They bring something new into my life each day.
MAY 18
Levels 5, 4 and 3 form a group quite distinct from the military group of Levels 7 and 6. They are all civilian levels. But this is not the only thing they have in common. All three are set aside for the élite of the civilian society. And the more important the civilian, the deeper he will descend and the safer he will be.
Level 5 is reserved for 20,000 of the country’s top citizens, the real pick of society. It consists of four independent units, in different parts of the country, and each unit will shelter 5,000 people at a depth of 1,500 feet. Their population will consist of top administrators, scientists, politicians, ex-generals (who count as civilians now) and their families.
Of course, there have to be a few technical experts on Level 5 too, people who do not rank high in society but are there simply to help run the place. In principle, however, the top élite is to look after itself with as little help from outsiders as possible. I dare say they will be willing to accept this when the only alternative is for Level 5 to hold less of them.
Each of the Level 5 units is located near one of the country’s administrative or scientific centres, so that, when the moment comes, the privileged among its inhabitants can reach their shelter in time. Once down, they will not need to draw on the surface for any of their needs, for Level 5 is self-sufficient. They will not be quite so well off as we are in this respect, though: there will be relatively few auxiliary experts to help them along—less doctors and nurses, for example, even though they may have a greater need of them. Still, the space is precious, and one more expert means one less VIP. Teachers and children’s nurses will not be provided either, and for some reason I like to think of the élite having to do these jobs themselves. They will also need to learn how to handle sewage, keep the place clean, and so forth. It may be hard on them, but it will keep them busy.
Apart from that, they will have the same services that we enjoy on the military levels. Air and food will be supplied in the same way. So will energy, but not for such a long time: their supply is calculated to last for 200 years only.
MAY 19
Today X-107 and I discussed the advantages which the two military levels have over Level 5. He seems to derive some satisfaction from the fact that, judging by our lower level, we are rated as more important than our country’s élite.
“Of course,” he said, “this doesn’t mean we’d have been above all those politicians and ex-generals and so on if all of us had stayed on the surface. But our military function makes it necessary for us to be given the most privileged position down here. The final victory—which means their welfare as well as ours—depends on us.”
What X-107 had said made me think of the position of the captain on a big liner. Though some of his passengers may be eminent scientists or important statesmen, men of far more consequence, it is the captain who usually has the best-situated cabin. Of course, the importance of Level 7, or even Level 6, relative to Level 5 is far greater than that of a captain to his passengers.
“I imagine,” I said, “that the people of Level 5—who include our policy-makers, after all—would have put themselves on Levels 6 and 7 and us on Level 5 if there had been enough room for them down here. But they must have decided that getting a large number of themselves sheltered on a fairly deep level was better than having too few of them on Levels 6 and 7.”
X-107 thought not. He said that whatever size the various levels had been, we should still have been allocated space on the deepest one because of our job.
Well, for one reason or another, the armed forces now find themselves in the safest place in the world, not in the front lines. Quite a change from the days when a soldier had to advance into a machine-gun volley and a pilot was forever expecting something to blast him out of the sky. Today we, the soldiers of our country, are shielded by an earth crust 3,000 or 4,400 feet thick. No warrior’s armour-plating ever compared with that.