The Lovers

'H with you!' he said. He walked away and went into the unmentionable.

Inside the tiny room, he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower for the thirty-second fall of water allowed him. Then he stood in front of the blower until; he was dried. Afterward, he brushed his teeth vigorously, as if he were trying to scour out the terrible words he had uttered. As usual, he was beginning to feel the shame of what he had said. And with it the fear of what Mary would tell the gapt, what he would tell the gapt, and what would happen afterward. It was possible that his M.R. would be so devaluated that he would be fined. If that happened, then his budget, strained as it was, would burst. And he would be more in debt than ever, not to mention that he would be passed over when the next promotion time came.

Thinking this, he put his clothes back on and left the little room. Mary brushed by him on her way into the unmentionable. She looked surprised on seeing him dressed, then she stopped and said, 'Oh, that's right! You did throw the night-things on the floor! Hal, you can't mean it!'

'Yes, I do,' he said. 'I'm not sleeping in those sweaty things of Olaf's.'

'Please, Hal,' she said. 'I wish you wouldn't use that word. You know that I can't stand vulgarity.'

'I beg your pardon,' he said. 'Would you rather I used the Icelandic or Hebrew word for it? In either language, the word stands for the same vile human excretion: sweat!'

Mary put her hands to her ears, ran into the unmentionable, and slammed the door behind her.

He threw himself down on the thin mattress and put his arm over his eyes so the light would not get into them. In five minutes, he heard the door open (it was beginning to need oiling but would not get it until their budget and that of the Olaf Marconis could afford to buy the lubricant). And if his M.R. went down, the Marconis might petition to move into another apartment. If they could find one, then another, even more objectionable couple (probably one that had just been elevated from a lower professional class) would move in with them.

Oh, Sigmen! he thought. Why can't I be content with things as they are? Why can't I accept reality fully? Why must I have so much of the Backrunner in me? Tell me, tell me!

It was Mary's voice he heard as she settled into bei beside him. 'Hal, surely you aren't going to stick to this unshib?'

'What unshib?' he said, though he knew what she meant.

'Sleeping in your dayclothes.'

'Why not?'

'Hall' she said. 'You know very well why not!'

'No, I don't,' he replied. He removed his arm from his eyes and stared into total blackness. She had, as prescribed, turned off the light before getting into bed.

Her body, if unclothed, would gleam white in the light of lamp or moon, he thought. Yet, I have never seen her body, never seen her even half-undressed. Never seen any woman's body except for that picture that man in Berlin showed me. And I, after one half-hungry, half-horrified look, ran as swiftly as I could. I wonder if tha Uzzites found him soon after and did to him whatever they do to men who pervert reality so hideously.

So hideously... yet, he could see the picture as if it were before his eyes now in the full light of Berlin. And he could see the man who was trying to sell it to him, a tall, good-looking youth with blond hair and broad shoulders, speaking the Berliner variety of Icelandic.

White flesh gleaming...

Mary had been silent for several minutes, but he could hear her breathing. Then, 'Hal, haven't you done enough since you came home? Must you make me tell the gapt even more?'

'And just what else have I done?' he asked fiercely. Nevertheless, he smiled slightly, for he was determined to make her speak plainly, to come out and ask. Not that she ever would, but he was going to get her to come as close as she was capable.

'That's just it, you haven't done anything,' she whispered.

'Now what do you mean?

'You know.'

'No, I don't'

'The night before you left for the Preserve, you said you were too tired. That's no real excuse, but I didn't say anything to the gapt about it because you had fulfilled your weekly duty. But you've been gone two weeks, and now–'

'Weekly duty!' he said loudly, resting on one elbow. 'Weekly duty! Is that what you think of it?'

'Why, Hal,' she said with a surprised note. 'What else am I to think?'

Groaning, he lay back down and stared into the dark.

'What's the use?' he said. 'Why, why should we? Nine years we've been married; we've had no children; we never will. I've even petitioned for a divorce. So why should we continue to perform like a couple of robots on tridi?'

Mary's breath sucked in, and he could imagine the horror on her face.

After a moment which seemed to bulge with her shock, she said, 'We must because we must. What else can we do? Surely, you're not suggesting that?...'

'No, no,' he said quickly, thinking of what would happen if she told their gapt. Other things he could get away with, but any hint on her part that her husband was refusing to carry out the specific command of the Forerunner... He did not dare to think about that. At least, he now had prestige as a university teacher and a puka with some room in it and a chance to advance. But not if...

'Of course not,' he said. 'I know we must try to have children, even if we seem doomed not to.'

'The doctors say there's nothing physically wrong with either of us,' she said for perhaps the thousandth time in the past five years. 'So, one of us must be thinking against reality, denying with his body the true future. And I know that it can't be me. It couldn't be!'

' "The dark self hides overmuch from the bright self," ' said Hal, quoting The Western Talmud. ' "Thej Backrunner in us trips us, and we know it not." '

There was nothing that so infuriated Mary, herself always quoting, as to have Hal do the same. But now, instead of beginning a tirade, she cried, 'Hal, I'm scared! Do you realize that in another year our time will be up? That we'll go before the Uzzites for another test? And, if we fail, if they find out that one of us is denying the future to our children. . . they made it clear what would happen!'

Artificial insemination by a donor was adultery. Cloning had been forbidden by Sigmen because it was an abomination.

For the first time that evening, Hal felt a sympathy with her. He knew the same terror that was making her body quiver and shake the bed.

But he could not allow her to know it, for then she would break up completely, as she had several times in the past. He would be all night putting the pieces back together and making them stick.

'I don't think there is too much to worry about,' he said. 'After all, we are highly respected and much needed professionals. They're not about to waste our education and talents by sending us to H. I think that if you don't get pregnant, they'll give us an extension. After all, they do have precedent and authority. The Forerunner himself said that every case should be considered in its context, not judged by an absolute rule. And we–'

'And how often is a case judged by the context?' she said shrilly. 'How often? You know as well as I do that the absolute rule is always applied!'

'I don't know any such thing,' he replied soothingly.

'How naive can you get? If you go by what the truecasters say, yes. But I've heard some things about the hierarchy. I know that such things as blood relationship, friendship, prestige, and wealth, or usefulness to the Sturch, can make for a relaxation of the rules.' Mary sat upright in bed.

'Are you trying to tell me that the Urielites can be bribed?' she said in a shocked tone.

'I would never ever say that to anybody,' he said. 'And I will swear by Sigmen's lost hand that I did not mean even to hint at such a vile unreality. No, I am just saying that usefulness to the Sturch sometimes results in leniency or another chance.'

'Who do you know to help us?' said Mary, and Hal smiled in the darkness. Mary could be shocked by his outspokenness, but she was practical and would not hesitate to use any means to get them out of their predicament.

There was silence for a few minutes. Mary was breathing hard, like a cornered animal.

Finally, he said, 'I don't really know anybody with influence except Olvegssen. And he's been making remarks about my M.R., though he does praise my work.'

'See! That M.R.! If you'd only make an effort, Hal...'

'If only you weren't so eager to downgrade me,' he said bitterly.

'Hal, I can't help it if you go along so easily with unreality! I don't like what I have to do, but it's my duty! You're even making a misstep by reproaching me for what I have to do. Another black mark–'

'Which you will be forced to repeat to the gapt. Yes, I know. Let's not go into that again for the ten thousandth time.'

'You brought it up,' she said righteously.

'That seems to be all we have to talk about.'

She gasped, and then she said, 'It wasn't always that way.'

'No, not for the first year of our marriage. But since then–'

'Whose fault is that?' she cried.

'That's a good question. But I don't think we should go into it. It might be dangerous.'

'What do you mean?'

'I don't care to discuss it.'

He was himself surprised at what he had said. What did he mean? He did not know; he had spoken, not with his intellect but with his whole being. Had the Backrunner in him made him say that?

'Let's get to sleep,' he said. 'Tomorrow changes the face of reality.'

'Not before–' she said.

'Before what?' he replied wearily.

'Don't play shib with me,' she said. 'This is what started the whole thing. You trying to... put off your... duty.'

'My duty,' said Hal. 'The shib thing to do. Of course.'

'Don't talk like that,' she said. 'I don't want you to do it just because it's your duty. I want you to do it because you love me, as you are enjoined to do. Also, because you want to love me.'

'I am enjoined to love all of mankind,' said Hal. 'But I notice that I am expressly forbidden to perform my duty with anyone but my realistically bound wife.'

Mary was so shocked that she could not reply, and she turned her back to him. But he, knowing that he was doing it as much to punish her and himself as doing what he should, reached out for her. From then on, having made the formal opening statement, everything was ritualized. This time, unlike some times in the past, everything was executed step by step, the words and actions, as specified by the Forerunner in The Western Talmud. Except for one detaiclass="underline" Hal was still wearing his dayclothes. This, he had decided, could be forgiven, for it was the spirit, not the letter, that counted, and what was the difference whether he wore the thick street garments or the bulky nightclothes? Mary, if she had noticed the error, had said nothing about it.