THX1138
by Ben Bova
Chapter 1
“I need something stronger.”
The observer frowned at his viewscreen picture. It was badly distorted. He could hardly make out the man’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing… nothing really. I just feel… I need something stronger.”
There were fifty viewscreens on the observer’s panel; all of them clamoring for attention. His head throbbed painfully. He said to this one:
“If you have a problem, don’t hesitate to ask for assistance. Call 348-853.” And get off my back…
“Yes… Thank you, I’ll be all right. I’ll be all right,” said THX 1138.
He stood in front of the medicine cabinet and somehow knew that the observer was no longer paying attention to him. He took two pills from the nearest bottle and returned the bottle to the cabinet.
Popping the two pills into his mouth, THX 1138 made his way back to the hologram room. He curled up in the deep soft relaxer chair. He was dressed as always in loose-fitting white pajamas. His head, like everyone’s, was shaved. He curled into a fetal position, thumb in mouth, eyes glazed, and watched.
Watched the three policemen beating the old man. Listened to the soft whistle of the long chrome nightsticks that ended in the solid thunk! of flesh being pounded, blood vessels bursting, skin ripping, bones shattering. The old man was still alive; he gave a sighing grunt with each impact.
THX 1138 watched the policemen beat the old man, and felt the soothing glow of the pills taking effect. Somewhere he heard a female voice saying:
“For more rapid results use your new D code on your Mercicontrol card. Thank you.”
He nodded and kept watching. The room was dimly lit in a sullen red glow that came from the walls. But the holopicture was bright and sharp. THX could see that the policemen were chrome, like their clubs. Robots. But the old man was real. He moaned. He bled.
The door to the holoroom opened. THX ignored it.
“THX?”
“No… later…”
“But…”
He pulled tighter together, knees under chin.
She stood at the door and stared at him for a long empty moment With every thud of the nightsticks she winced. Slowly, she closed the door.
Her name—in the style of the underground society—was LUH 3417. She was twenty years old, slim and very lovely except for a barely noticeable small red “S” branded on her left cheek. Her shaved head gave her face a child-like, innocent appearance.
She stood in the little hallway outside the holoroom, under the flat glareless light of the overhead panels, wearing the standard white pajamas that everyone wore. It was a good apartment, three functional immaculate white rooms. And the holoroom. Down on the lowest level of the city, closest to the warmth of the Earth’s core, safe and protected.
Protected from what? LUH wondered.
With a worried frown she walked the four steps from the holoroom’s door to the sanitary. It was a gleaming chrome cubbyhole, with showerstall, depilatory mask, sink and medicine cabinet.
She stood in front of the cabinet, staring into its mirror. She didn’t notice her expressive eyes, or the curve of her cheek. Only the “S.” It was quite small now. Baby-sized. Will they give me another one when I turn twenty-one?
She opened the medicine cabinet, then hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” asked a male observer’s voice.
Impulsively, she took the bottle of pills that THX had used a few minutes earlier. “Never mind,” she said to the unseen observer. “I’ll… I’ll replace these later.” She slammed, the cabinet door shut.
She shook out a fistful of pills, put them to her lips, and held her hand frozen there for a frightening instant. Then she reached down and tossed the pills into the toilet. She shook the whole bottle’s contents into the toilet and flushed all the pills down.
Ajter all, she thought to herself, how can they know? How can they find out? The medicines don’t work as well on natural-borns anyway.
For a moment she felt elated, almost happy, with a delicious twinge of guilt (the pills are for your own good, child). Then she left the sanitary and walked past the holoroom door again. She could still hear the thudding. But now there was a soft moaning sound, a crooning. Not from the old man in the holopicture. She knew that sound. It was THX.
Her elation vanished. She knew what he was doing.
Slowly, silently, reluctantly, LUH cracked open the door of the holoroom just wide enough to see THX. He was breathing hard, moaning softly, eyes fixed on the picture, body jerking spasmodically. LUH looked up at the picture. They were beating a naked girl now. She was silently begging them, but they kept on beating her. One of the chrome policemen hauled her up by the wrists to a kneeling position and the others kicked her abdomen, her ribs. All in slow- motion. Her breasts bounced with each blow. A chrome fist smashed into her face, spewing blood.
THX was masturbating. A smooth white plastic receptacle set into the chair caught his flow and ducted it off. Keep the apartment spotless. Save the sperm for the state.
LUH shut the door, her hands shaking. Why did it bother her so? Her own holopicture stimuli were so different… why did she want—
She realized she was crying. If anyone saw that! With an effort that made her shudder, she pulled herself under control. LUH went into the kitchen. She had to do something, busy herself. She touched the menu stud on the wall, and holopictures of acceptable meals flicked by in eyeblink succession where the cooker screen was. She touched the button again when she saw THX’s favorite meal. It was all synthetics, of course, but the protein was done up to look like real meat. The wall button flashed blue, acknowledging her order.
Nodding to herself, LUH waited for the sound of the pre-packaged meal to arrive in the cooker. When it came, she stepped to the cooker and opened the door, bending over slightly, to look inside and make certain it was what she had ordered.
It wasn’t. She must have been too slow with the selector button; or maybe the system was just fouled up again. Too late now, there was no way to return the food. It had to be consumed.
She let the cooker door snap shut and pressed the middle of three buttons alongside it. The button glowed red. The meal would be ready in five minutes.
LUH turned back toward the holoroom. For a moment she hesitated, then took a deep breath and started for THX.
He was sitting up now. A smooth-voiced newscaster was sitting across the room where the beatings had been going on.
“… in the constant striving for perfection in the AIA PB 848’s that have been built this year.
“Five felons have been caught fleeing Rehabilitation Center DD 2. All five had been undergoing treatment for drug offenses. Two of the felons were the products of the sexact, the other three…”
“What?” LUH asked involuntarily.
The holopicture flashed blindingly for an instant, then the newscaster repeated:
“Two of the felons were products of the sexact, the other three are from Reproclinic 19. The quintet escaped from Compound 545 and were destroyed upon recapture. Reports indicate…”
She touched THX’s shoulder. “I started dinner for you.”
“I’m not hungry,” he said.
The newscaster’s voice automatically dropped to subliminal level when they spoke. He sat there, smiling amiably, mouthing the day’s events.
“Well, it’s fixed. Come on out and eat it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Impatiently, LUH said, “It’s just going to go to waste if you don’t eat it. Come on…”
He turned and looked up at her. “What’s the matter with you?”