"ANTHEM\n\nby Ayn Rand\n\n\n\n\nPART ONE\n\n\nIt is a sin to write this. It is a sin to think words no others think\nand to put them down upon a paper no others are to see. It is base and\nevil. It is as if we were speaking alone to no ears but our own. And\nwe know well that there is no transgression blacker than to do or think\nalone. We have broken the laws. The laws say that men may not write\nunless the Council of Vocations bid them so. May we be forgiven!\n\nBut this is not the only sin upon us. We have committed a greater crime,\nand for this crime there is no name. What punishment awaits us if it be\ndiscovered we know not, for no such crime has come in the memory of men\nand there are no laws to provide for it.\n\nIt is dark here. The flame of the candle stands still in the air.\nNothing moves in this tunnel save our hand on the paper. We are alone\nhere under the earth. It is a fearful word, alone. The laws say that\nnone among men may be alone, ever and at any time, for this is the great\ntransgression and the root of all evil. But we have broken many laws.\nAnd now there is nothing here save our one body, and it is strange to\nsee only two legs stretched on the ground, and on the wall before us the\nshadow of our one head.\n\nThe walls are cracked and water runs upon them in thin threads without\nsound, black and glistening as blood. We stole the candle from the\nlarder of the Home of the Street Sweepers. We shall be sentenced to ten\nyears in the Palace of Corrective Detention if it be discovered. But\nthis matters not. It matters only that the light is precious and we\nshould not waste it to write when we need it for that work which is our\ncrime. Nothing matters save the work, our secret, our evil, our precious\nwork. Still, we must also write, for--may the Council have mercy upon\nus!--we wish to speak for once to no ears but our own.\n\nOur name is Equality 7-2521, as it is written on the iron bracelet\nwhich all men wear on their left wrists with their names upon it. We are\ntwenty-one years old. We are six feet tall, and this is a burden, for\nthere are not many men who are six feet tall. Ever have the Teachers and\nthe Leaders pointed to us and frowned and said:\n\n\"There is evil in your bones, Equality 7-2521, for your body has grown\nbeyond the bodies of your brothers.\" But we cannot change our bones nor\nour body.\n\nWe were born with a curse. It has always driven us to thoughts which are\nforbidden. It has always given us wishes which men may not wish. We know\nthat we are evil, but there is no will in us and no power to resist it.\nThis is our wonder and our secret fear, that we know and do not resist.\n\nWe strive to be like all our brother men, for all men must be alike.\nOver the portals of the Palace of the World Council, there are words cut\nin the marble, which we repeat to ourselves whenever we are tempted:\n\n\n  \"WE ARE ONE IN ALL AND ALL IN ONE.\n  THERE ARE NO MEN BUT ONLY THE GREAT _WE_,\n  ONE, INDIVISIBLE AND FOREVER.\"\n\n\nWe repeat this to ourselves, but it helps us not.\n\nThese words were cut long ago. There is green mould in the grooves of\nthe letters and yellow streaks on the marble, which come from more\nyears than men could count. And these words are the truth, for they are\nwritten on the Palace of the World Council, and the World Council is the\nbody of all truth. Thus has it been ever since the Great Rebirth, and\nfarther back than that no memory can reach.\n\nBut we must never speak of the times before the Great Rebirth, else we\nare sentenced to three years in the Palace of Corrective Detention. It\nis only the Old Ones who whisper about it in the evenings, in the Home\nof the Useless. They whisper many strange things, of the towers which\nrose to the sky, in those Unmentionable Times, and of the wagons which\nmoved without horses, and of the lights which burned without flame. But\nthose times were evil. And those times passed away, when men saw the\nGreat Truth which is this: that all men are one and that there is no\nwill save the will of all men together.\n\nAll men are good and wise. It is only we, Equality 7-2521, we alone who\nwere born with a curse. For we are not like our brothers. And as we look\nback upon our life, we see that it has ever been thus and that it has\nbrought us step by step to our last, supreme transgression, our crime of\ncrimes hidden here under the ground.\n\nWe remember the Home of the Infants where we lived till we were five\nyears old, together with all the children of the City who had been born\nin the same year. The sleeping halls there were white and clean and bare\nof all things save one hundred beds. We were just like all our brothers\nthen, save for the one transgression: we fought with our brothers. There\nare few offenses blacker than to fight with our brothers, at any age and\nfor any cause whatsoever. The Council of the Home told us so, and of all\nthe children of that year, we were locked in the cellar most often.\n\nWhen we were five years old, we were sent to the Home of the Students,\nwhere there are ten wards, for our ten years of learning. Men must learn\ntill they reach their fifteenth year. Then they go to work. In the Home\nof the Students we arose when the big bell rang in the tower and we went\nto our beds when it rang again. Before we removed our garments, we stood\nin the great sleeping hall, and we raised our right arms, and we said\nall together with the three Teachers at the head:\n\n\"We are nothing. Mankind is all. By the grace of our brothers are we\nallowed our lives. We exist through, by and for our brothers who are the\nState. Amen.\"\n\nThen we slept. The sleeping halls were white and clean and bare of all\nthings save one hundred beds.\n\nWe, Equality 7-2521, were not happy in those years in the Home of the\nStudents. It was not that the learning was too hard for us. It was that\nthe learning was too easy. This is a great sin, to be born with a head\nwhich is too quick. It is not good to be different from our brothers,\nbut it is evil to be superior to them. The Teachers told us so, and they\nfrowned when they looked upon us.\n\nSo we fought against this curse. We tried to forget our lessons, but we\nalways remembered. We tried not to understand what the Teachers taught,\nbut we always understood it before the Teachers had spoken. We looked\nupon Union 5-3992, who were a pale boy with only half a brain, and we\ntried to say and do as they did, that we might be like them, like Union\n5-3992, but somehow the Teachers knew that we were not. And we were\nlashed more often than all the other children.\n\nThe Teachers were just, for they had been appointed by the Councils, and\nthe Councils are the voice of all justice, for they are the voice of all\nmen. And if sometimes, in the secret darkness of our heart, we regret\nthat which befell us on our fifteenth birthday, we know that it was\nthrough our own guilt. We had broken a law, for we had not paid heed to\nthe words of our Teachers. The Teachers had said to us all:\n\n\"Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do when you\nleave the Home of the Students. You shall do that which the Council of\nVocations shall prescribe for you. For the Council of Vocations knows in\nits great wisdom where you are needed by your brother men, better than\nyou can know it in your unworthy little minds. And if you are not needed\nby your brother man, there is no reason for you to burden the earth with\nyour bodies.\"\n\nWe knew this well, in the years of our childhood, but our curse broke\nour will. We were guilty and we confess it here: we were guilty of\nthe great Transgression of Preference. We preferred some work and some\nlessons to the others. We did not listen well to the history of all the\nCouncils elected since the Great Rebirth. But we loved the Science of\nThings. We wished to know. We wished to know about all the things which\nmake the earth around us. We asked so many questions that the Teachers\nforbade it.\n\nWe think that there are mysteries in the sky and under the water and in\nthe plants which grow. But the Council of Scholars has said that there\nare no mysteries, and the Council of Scholars knows all things. And we\nlearned much from our Teachers. We learned that the earth is flat and\nthat the sun revolves around it, which causes the day and the night. We\nlearned the names of all the winds which blow over the seas and push the\nsails of our great ships. We learned how to bleed men to cure them of\nall ailments.\n\nWe loved the Science of Things. And in the darkness, in the secret hour,\nwhen we awoke in the night and there were no brothers around us, but\nonly their shapes in the beds and their snores, we closed our eyes, and\nwe held our lips shut, and we stopped our breath, that no shudder might\nlet our brothers see or hear or guess, and we thought that we wished to\nbe sent to the Home of the Scholars when our time would come.\n\nAll the great modern inventions come from the Home of the Scholars, such\nas the newest one, which was found only a hundred years ago, of how to\nmake candles from wax and string; also, how to make glass, which is put\nin our windows to protect us from the rain. To find these things, the\nScholars must study the earth and learn from the rivers, from the\nsands, from the winds and the rocks. And if we went to the Home of the\nScholars, we could learn from these also. We could ask questions of\nthese, for they do not forbid questions.\n\nAnd questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse makes us seek\nwe know not what, ever and ever. But we cannot resist it. It whispers\nto us that there are great things on this earth of ours, and that we\ncan know them if we try, and that we must know them. We ask, why must we\nknow, but it has no answer to give us. We must know that we may know.\n\nSo we wished to be sent to the Home of the Scholars. We wished it so\nmuch that our hands trembled under the blankets in the night, and we bit\nour arm to stop that other pain which we could not endure. It was evil\nand we dared not face our brothers in the morning. For men may wish\nnothing for themselves. And we were punished when the Council of\nVocations came to give us our life Mandates which tell those who reach\ntheir fifteenth year what their work is to be for the rest of their\ndays.\n\nThe Council of Vocations came on the first day of spring, and they sat\nin the great hall. And we who were fifteen and all the Teachers came\ninto the great hall. And the Council of Vocations sat on a high dais,\nand they had but two words to speak to each of the Students. They called\nthe Students' names, and when the Students stepped before them, one\nafter another, the Council said: \"Carpenter\" or \"Doctor\" or \"Cook\" or\n\"Leader.\" Then each Student raised their right arm and said: \"The will\nof our brothers be done.\"\n\nNow if the Council has said \"Carpenter\" or \"Cook,\" the Students so\nassigned go to work and they do not study any further. But if the\nCouncil has said \"Leader,\" then those Students go into the Home of\nthe Leaders, which is the greatest house in the City, for it has three\nstories. And there they study for many years, so that they may become\ncandidates and be elected to the City Council and the State Council and\nthe World Council--by a free and general vote of all men. But we wished\nnot to be a Leader, even though it is a great honor. We wished to be a\nScholar.\n\nSo we awaited our turn in the great hall and then we heard the Council\nof Vocations call our name: \"Equality 7-2521.\" We walked to the dais,\nand our legs did not tremble, and we looked up at the Council. There\nwere five members of the Council, three of the male gender and two of\nthe female. Their hair was white and their faces were cracked as the\nclay of a dry river bed. They were old. They seemed older than the\nmarble of the Temple of the World Council. They sat before us and they\ndid not move. And we saw no breath to stir the folds of their white\ntogas. But we knew that they were alive, for a finger of the hand of the\noldest rose, pointed to us, and fell down again. This was the only\nthing which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move as they said:\n\"Street Sweeper.\"\n\nWe felt the cords of our neck grow tight as our head rose higher to look\nupon the faces of the Council, and we were happy. We knew we had been\nguilty, but now we had a way to atone for it. We would accept our Life\nMandate, and we would work for our brothers, gladly and willingly, and\nwe would erase our sin against them, which they did not know, but we\nknew. So we were happy, and proud of ourselves and of our victory over\nourselves. We raised our right arm and we spoke, and our voice was the\nclearest, the steadiest voice in the hall that day, and we said:\n\n\"The will of our brothers be done.\"\n\nAnd we looked straight into the eyes of the Council, but their eyes were\nas cold blue glass buttons.\n\nSo we went into the Home of the Street Sweepers. It is a grey house on a\nnarrow street. There is a sundial in its courtyard, by which the Council\nof the Home can tell the hours of the day and when to ring the bell.\nWhen the bell rings, we all arise from our beds. The sky is green and\ncold in our windows to the east. The shadow on the sundial marks off a\nhalf-hour while we dress and eat our breakfast in the dining hall, where\nthere are five long tables with twenty clay plates and twenty clay cups\non each table. Then we go to work in the streets of the City, with our\nbrooms and our rakes. In five hours, when the sun is high, we return to\nthe Home and we eat our midday meal, for which one-half hour is allowed.\nThen we go to work again. In five hours, the shadows are blue on the\npavements, and the sky is blue with a deep brightness which is not\nbright. We come back to have our dinner, which lasts one hour. Then the\nbell rings and we walk in a straight column to one of the City Halls,\nfor the Social Meeting. Other columns of men arrive from the Homes\nof the different Trades. The candles are lit, and the Councils of the\ndifferent Homes stand in a pulpit, and they speak to us of our duties\nand of our brother men. Then visiting Leaders mount the pulpit and they\nread to us the speeches which were made in the City Council that day,\nfor the City Council represents all men and all men must know. Then we\nsing hymns, the Hymn of Brotherhood, and the Hymn of Equality, and the\nHymn of the Collective Spirit. The sky is a soggy purple when we return\nto the Home. Then the bell rings and we walk in a straight column to the\nCity Theatre for three hours of Social Recreation. There a play is shown\nupon the stage, with two great choruses from the Home of the Actors,\nwhich speak and answer all together, in two great voices. The plays\nare about toil and how good it is. Then we walk back to the Home in a\nstraight column. The sky is like a black sieve pierced by silver drops\nthat tremble, ready to burst through. The moths beat against the street\nlanterns. We go to our beds and we sleep, till the bell rings again.\nThe sleeping halls are white and clean and bare of all things save one\nhundred beds.\n\nThus have we lived each day of four years, until two springs ago when\nour crime happened. Thus must all men live until they are forty. At\nforty, they are worn out. At forty, they are sent to the Home of the\nUseless, where the Old Ones live. The Old Ones do not work, for the\nState takes care of them. They sit in the sun in summer and they sit by\nthe fire in winter. They do not speak often, for they are weary. The\nOld Ones know that they are soon to die. When a miracle happens and some\nlive to be forty-five, they are the Ancient Ones, and the children stare\nat them when passing by the Home of the Useless. Such is to be our life,\nas that of all our brothers and of the brothers who came before us.\n\nSuch would have been our life, had we not committed our crime which\nchanged all things for us. And it was our curse which drove us to our\ncrime. We had been a good Street Sweeper and like all our brother Street\nSweepers, save for our cursed wish to know. We looked too long at the\nstars at night, and at the trees and the earth. And when we cleaned\nthe yard of the Home of the Scholars, we gathered the glass vials, the\npieces of metal, the dried bones which they had discarded. We wished to\nkeep these things and to study them, but we had no place to hide them.\nSo we carried them to the City Cesspool. And then we made the discovery.\n\nIt was on a day of the spring before last. We Street Sweepers work\nin brigades of three, and we were with Union 5-3992, they of the\nhalf-brain, and with International 4-8818. Now Union 5-3992 are a sickly\nlad and sometimes they are stricken with convulsions, when their\nmouth froths and their eyes turn white. But International 4-8818\nare different. They are a tall, strong youth and their eyes are like\nfireflies, for there is laughter in their eyes. We cannot look upon\nInternational 4-8818 and not smile in answer. For this they were not\nliked in the Home of the Students, as it is not proper to smile without\nreason. And also they were not liked because they took pieces of coal\nand they drew pictures upon the walls, and they were pictures which made\nmen laugh. But it is only our brothers in the Home of the Artists who\nare permitted to draw pictures, so International 4-8818 were sent to the\nHome of the Street Sweepers, like ourselves.\n\nInternational 4-8818 and we are friends. This is an evil thing to say,\nfor it is a transgression, the great Transgression of Preference, to\nlove any among men better than the others, since we must love all men\nand all men are our friends. So International 4-8818 and we have never\nspoken of it. But we know. We know, when we look into each other's eyes.\nAnd when we look thus without words, we both know other things also,\nstrange things for which there are no words, and these things frighten\nus.\n\nSo on that day of the spring before last, Union 5-3992 were stricken\nwith convulsions on the edge of the City, near the City Theatre. We\nleft them to lie in the shade of the Theatre tent and we went with\nInternational 4-8818 to finish our work. We came together to the great\nravine behind the Theatre. It is empty save for trees and weeds.\nBeyond the ravine there is a plain, and beyond the plain there lies the\nUncharted Forest, about which men must not think.\n\nWe were gathering the papers and the rags which the wind had blown from\nthe Theatre, when we saw an iron bar among the weeds. It was old and\nrusted by many rains. We pulled with all our strength, but we could not\nmove it. So we called International 4-8818, and together we scraped the\nearth around the bar. Of a sudden the earth fell in before us, and we\nsaw an old iron grill over a black hole.\n\nInternational 4-8818 stepped back. But we pulled at the grill and it\ngave way. And then we saw iron rings as steps leading down a shaft into\na darkness without bottom.\n\n\"We shall go down,\" we said to International 4-8818.\n\n\"It is forbidden,\" they answered.\n\nWe said: \"The Council does not know of this hole, so it cannot be\nforbidden.\"\n\nAnd they answered: \"Since the Council does not know of this hole,\nthere can be no law permitting to enter it. And everything which is not\npermitted by law is forbidden.\"\n\nBut we said: \"We shall go, none the less.\"\n\nThey were frightened, but they stood by and watched us go.\n\nWe hung on the iron rings with our hands and our feet. We could see\nnothing below us. And above us the hole open upon the sky grew smaller\nand smaller, till it came to be the size of a button. But still we went\ndown. Then our foot touched the ground. We rubbed our eyes, for we could\nnot see. Then our eyes became used to the darkness, but we could not\nbelieve what we saw.\n\nNo men known to us could have built this place, nor the men known to\nour brothers who lived before us, and yet it was built by men. It was a\ngreat tunnel. Its walls were hard and smooth to the touch; it felt like\nstone, but it was not stone. On the ground there were long thin tracks\nof iron, but it was not iron; it felt smooth and cold as glass. We\nknelt, and we crawled forward, our hand groping along the iron line to\nsee where it would lead. But there was an unbroken night ahead. Only the\niron tracks glowed through it, straight and white, calling us to follow.\nBut we could not follow, for we were losing the puddle of light behind\nus. So we turned and we crawled back, our hand on the iron line. And our\nheart beat in our fingertips, without reason. And then we knew.\n\nWe knew suddenly that this place was left from the Unmentionable Times.\nSo it was true, and those Times had been, and all the wonders of those\nTimes. Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago men knew secrets which we\nhave lost. And we thought: \"This is a foul place. They are damned\nwho touch the things of the Unmentionable Times.\" But our hand which\nfollowed the track, as we crawled, clung to the iron as if it would not\nleave it, as if the skin of our hand were thirsty and begging of the\nmetal some secret fluid beating in its coldness.\n\nWe returned to the earth. International 4-8818 looked upon us and\nstepped back.\n\n\"Equality 7-2521,\" they said, \"your face is white.\"\n\nBut we could not speak and we stood looking upon them.\n\nThey backed away, as if they dared not touch us. Then they smiled, but\nit was not a gay smile; it was lost and pleading. But still we could not\nspeak. Then they said:\n\n\"We shall report our find to the City Council and both of us will be\nrewarded.\"\n\nAnd then we spoke. Our voice was hard and there was no mercy in our\nvoice. We said:\n\n\"We shall not report our find to the City Council. We shall not report\nit to any men.\"\n\nThey raised their hands to their ears, for never had they heard such\nwords as these.\n\n\"International 4-8818,\" we asked, \"will you report us to the Council and\nsee us lashed to death before your eyes?\"\n\nThey stood straight all of a sudden and they answered: \"Rather would we\ndie.\"\n\n\"Then,\" we said, \"keep silent. This place is ours. This place belongs\nto us, Equality 7-2521, and to no other men on earth. And if ever we\nsurrender it, we shall surrender our life with it also.\"\n\nThen we saw that the eyes of International 4-8818 were full to the\nlids with tears they dared not drop. They whispered, and their voice\ntrembled, so that their words lost all shape:\n\n\"The will of the Council is above all things, for it is the will of\nour brothers, which is holy. But if you wish it so, we shall obey you.\nRather shall we be evil with you than good with all our brothers. May\nthe Council have mercy upon both our hearts!\"\n\nThen we walked away together and back to the Home of the Street\nSweepers. And we walked in silence.\n\nThus did it come to pass that each night, when the stars are high and\nthe Street Sweepers sit in the City Theatre, we, Equality 7-2521, steal\nout and run through the darkness to our place. It is easy to leave the\nTheatre; when the candles are blown out and the Actors come onto the\nstage, no eyes can see us as we crawl under our seat and under the cloth\nof the tent. Later, it is easy to steal through the shadows and fall in\nline next to International 4-8818, as the column leaves the Theatre. It\nis dark in the streets and there are no men about, for no men may walk\nthrough the City when they have no mission to walk there. Each night, we\nrun to the ravine, and we remove the stones which we have piled upon the\niron grill to hide it from the men. Each night, for three hours, we are\nunder the earth, alone.\n\nWe have stolen candles from the Home of the Street Sweepers, we have\nstolen flints and knives and paper, and we have brought them to this\nplace. We have stolen glass vials and powders and acids from the Home of\nthe Scholars. Now we sit in the tunnel for three hours each night and\nwe study. We melt strange metals, and we mix acids, and we cut open the\nbodies of the animals which we find in the City Cesspool. We have built\nan oven of the bricks we gathered in the streets. We burn the wood we\nfind in the ravine. The fire flickers in the oven and blue shadows dance\nupon the walls, and there is no sound of men to disturb us.\n\nWe have stolen manuscripts. This is a great offense. Manuscripts are\nprecious, for our brothers in the Home of the Clerks spend one year to\ncopy one single script in their clear handwriting. Manuscripts are rare\nand they are kept in the Home of the Scholars. So we sit under the earth\nand we read the stolen scripts. Two years have passed since we found\nthis place. And in these two years we have learned more than we had\nlearned in the ten years of the Home of the Students.\n\nWe have learned things which are not in the scripts. We have solved\nsecrets of which the Scholars have no knowledge. We have come to see how\ngreat is the unexplored, and many lifetimes will not bring us to the end\nof our quest. But we wish no end to our quest. We wish nothing, save to\nbe alone and to learn, and to feel as if with each day our sight were\ngrowing sharper than the hawk's and clearer than rock crystal.\n\nStrange are the ways of evil. We are false in the faces of our brothers.\nWe are defying the will of our Councils. We alone, of the thousands who\nwalk this earth, we alone in this hour are doing a work which has no\npurpose save that we wish to do it. The evil of our crime is not for the\nhuman mind to probe. The nature of our punishment, if it be discovered,\nis not for the human heart to ponder. Never, not in the memory of the\nAncient Ones' Ancients, never have men done that which we are doing.\n\nAnd yet there is no shame in us and no regret. We say to ourselves that\nwe are a wretch and a traitor. But we feel no burden upon our spirit and\nno fear in our heart. And it seems to us that our spirit is clear as\na lake troubled by no eyes save those of the sun. And in our\nheart--strange are the ways of evil!--in our heart there is the first\npeace we have known in twenty years.\n\n\n\n\nPART TWO\n\nLiberty 5-3000... Liberty five-three thousand ... Liberty 5-3000....\n\nWe wish to write this name. We wish to speak it, but we dare not speak\nit above a whisper. For men are forbidden to take notice of women, and\nwomen are forbidden to take notice of men. But we think of one among\nwomen, they whose name is Liberty 5-3000, and we think of no others. The\nwomen who have been assigned to work the soil live in the Homes of the\nPeasants beyond the City. Where the City ends there is a great road\nwinding off to the north, and we Street Sweepers must keep this road\nclean to the first milepost. There is a hedge along the road, and beyond\nthe hedge lie the fields. The fields are black and ploughed, and they\nlie like a great fan before us, with their furrows gathered in some hand\nbeyond the sky, spreading forth from that hand, opening wide apart as\nthey come toward us, like black pleats that sparkle with thin, green\nspangles. Women work in the fields, and their white tunics in the wind\nare like the wings of sea-gulls beating over the black soil.\n\nAnd there it was that we saw Liberty 5-3000 walking along the furrows.\nTheir body was straight and thin as a blade of iron. Their eyes were\ndark and hard and glowing, with no fear in them, no kindness and no\nguilt. Their hair was golden as the sun; their hair flew in the wind,\nshining and wild, as if it defied men to restrain it. They threw seeds\nfrom their hand as if they deigned to fling a scornful gift, and the\nearth was a beggar under their feet.\n\nWe stood still; for the first time did we know fear, and then pain.\nAnd we stood still that we might not spill this pain more precious than\npleasure.\n\nThen we heard a voice from the others call their name: \"Liberty 5-3000,\"\nand they turned and walked back. Thus we learned their name, and we\nstood watching them go, till their white tunic was lost in the blue\nmist.\n\nAnd the following day, as we came to the northern road, we kept our eyes\nupon Liberty 5-3000 in the field. And each day thereafter we knew the\nillness of waiting for our hour on the northern road. And there we\nlooked at Liberty 5-3000 each day. We know not whether they looked at us\nalso, but we think they did. Then one day they came close to the hedge,\nand suddenly they turned to us. They turned in a whirl and the movement\nof their body stopped, as if slashed off, as suddenly as it had started.\nThey stood still as a stone, and they looked straight upon us, straight\ninto our eyes. There was no smile on their face, and no welcome. But\ntheir face was taut, and their eyes were dark. Then they turned as\nswiftly, and they walked away from us.\n\nBut the following day, when we came to the road, they smiled. They\nsmiled to us and for us. And we smiled in answer. Their head fell back,\nand their arms fell, as if their arms and their thin white neck were\nstricken suddenly with a great lassitude. They were not looking upon\nus, but upon the sky. Then they glanced at us over their shoulder, as we\nfelt as if a hand had touched our body, slipping softly from our lips to\nour feet.\n\nEvery morning thereafter, we greeted each other with our eyes. We dared\nnot speak. It is a transgression to speak to men of other Trades, save\nin groups at the Social Meetings. But once, standing at the hedge, we\nraised our hand to our forehead and then moved it slowly, palm down,\ntoward Liberty 5-3000. Had the others seen it, they could have guessed\nnothing, for it looked only as if we were shading our eyes from the\nsun. But Liberty 5-3000 saw it and understood. They raised their hand to\ntheir forehead and moved it as we had. Thus, each day, we greet Liberty\n5-3000, and they answer, and no men can suspect.\n\nWe do not wonder at this new sin of ours. It is our second Transgression\nof Preference, for we do not think of all our brothers, as we must, but\nonly of one, and their name is Liberty 5-3000. We do not know why we\nthink of them. We do not know why, when we think of them, we feel all of\na sudden that the earth is good and that it is not a burden to live. We\ndo not think of them as Liberty 5-3000 any longer. We have given them\na name in our thoughts. We call them the Golden One. But it is a sin to\ngive men names which distinguish them from other men. Yet we call them\nthe Golden One, for they are not like the others. The Golden One are not\nlike the others.\n\nAnd we take no heed of the law which says that men may not think of\nwomen, save at the Time of Mating. This is the time each spring when all\nthe men older than twenty and all the women older than eighteen are sent\nfor one night to the City Palace of Mating. And each of the men have one\nof the women assigned to them by the Council of Eugenics. Children are\nborn each winter, but women never see their children and children never\nknow their parents. Twice have we been sent to the Palace of Mating, but\nit is an ugly and shameful matter, of which we do not like to think.\n\nWe had broken so many laws, and today we have broken one more. Today, we\nspoke to the Golden One.\n\nThe other women were far off in the field, when we stopped at the hedge\nby the side of the road. The Golden One were kneeling alone at the moat\nwhich runs through the field. And the drops of water falling from their\nhands, as they raised the water to their lips, were like sparks of fire\nin the sun. Then the Golden One saw us, and they did not move, kneeling\nthere, looking at us, and circles of light played upon their white\ntunic, from the sun on the water of the moat, and one sparkling drop\nfell from a finger of their hand held as frozen in the air.\n\nThen the Golden One rose and walked to the hedge, as if they had heard a\ncommand in our eyes. The two other Street Sweepers of our brigade were\na hundred paces away down the road. And we thought that International\n4-8818 would not betray us, and Union 5-3992 would not understand. So\nwe looked straight upon the Golden One, and we saw the shadows of their\nlashes on their white cheeks and the sparks of sun on their lips. And we\nsaid:\n\n\"You are beautiful, Liberty 5-3000.\"\n\nTheir face did not move and they did not avert their eyes. Only their\neyes grew wider, and there was triumph in their eyes, and it was not\ntriumph over us, but over things we could not guess.\n\nThen they asked:\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Equality 7-2521,\" we answered.\n\n\"You are not one of our brothers, Equality 7-2521, for we do not wish\nyou to be.\"\n\nWe cannot say what they meant, for there are no words for their meaning,\nbut we know it without words and we knew it then.\n\n\"No,\" we answered, \"nor are you one of our sisters.\"\n\n\"If you see us among scores of women, will you look upon us?\"\n\n\"We shall look upon you, Liberty 5-3000, if we see you among all the\nwomen of the earth.\"\n\nThen they asked:\n\n\"Are Street Sweepers sent to different parts of the City or do they\nalways work in the same places?\"\n\n\"They always work in the same places,\" we answered, \"and no one will\ntake this road away from us.\"\n\n\"Your eyes,\" they said, \"are not like the eyes of any among men.\"\n\nAnd suddenly, without cause for the thought which came to us, we felt\ncold, cold to our stomach.\n\n\"How old are you?\" we asked.\n\nThey understood our thought, for they lowered their eyes for the first\ntime.\n\n\"Seventeen,\" they whispered.\n\nAnd we sighed, as if a burden had been taken from us, for we had been\nthinking without reason of the Palace of Mating. And we thought that we\nwould not let the Golden One be sent to the Palace. How to prevent it,\nhow to bar the will of the Councils, we knew not, but we knew suddenly\nthat we would. Only we do not know why such thought came to us, for\nthese ugly matters bear no relation to us and the Golden One. What\nrelation can they bear?\n\nStill, without reason, as we stood there by the hedge, we felt our lips\ndrawn tight with hatred, a sudden hatred for all our brother men. And\nthe Golden One saw it and smiled slowly, and there was in their smile\nthe first sadness we had seen in them. We think that in the wisdom of\nwomen the Golden One had understood more than we can understand.\n\nThen three of the sisters in the field appeared, coming toward the road,\nso the Golden One walked away from us. They took the bag of seeds, and\nthey threw the seeds into the furrows of earth as they walked away. But\nthe seeds flew wildly, for the hand of the Golden One was trembling.\n\nYet as we walked back to the Home of the Street Sweepers, we felt that\nwe wanted to sing, without reason. So we were reprimanded tonight, in\nthe dining hall, for without knowing it we had begun to sing aloud some\ntune we had never heard. But it is not proper to sing without reason,\nsave at the Social Meetings.\n\n\"We are singing because we are happy,\" we answered the one of the Home\nCouncil who reprimanded us.\n\n\"Indeed you are happy,\" they answered. \"How else can men be when they\nlive for their brothers?\"\n\nAnd now, sitting here in our tunnel, we wonder about these words. It is\nforbidden, not to be happy. For, as it has been explained to us, men are\nfree and the earth belongs to them; and all things on earth belong to\nall men; and the will of all men together is good for all; and so all\nmen must be happy.\n\nYet as we stand at night in the great hall, removing our garments\nfor sleep, we look upon our brothers and we wonder. The heads of our\nbrothers are bowed. The eyes of our brothers are dull, and never do they\nlook one another in the eyes. The shoulders of our brothers are hunched,\nand their muscles are drawn, as if their bodies were shrinking and\nwished to shrink out of sight. And a word steals into our mind, as we\nlook upon our brothers, and that word is fear.\n\nThere is fear hanging in the air of the sleeping halls, and in the air\nof the streets. Fear walks through the City, fear without name, without\nshape. All men feel it and none dare to speak.\n\nWe feel it also, when we are in the Home of the Street Sweepers. But\nhere, in our tunnel, we feel it no longer. The air is pure under the\nground. There is no odor of men. And these three hours give us strength\nfor our hours above the ground.\n\nOur body is betraying us, for the Council of the Home looks with\nsuspicion upon us. It is not good to feel too much joy nor to be glad\nthat our body lives. For we matter not and it must not matter to us\nwhether we live or die, which is to be as our brothers will it. But we,\nEquality 7-2521, are glad to be living. If this is a vice, then we wish\nno virtue.\n\nYet our brothers are not like us. All is not well with our brothers.\nThere are Fraternity 2-5503, a quiet boy with wise, kind eyes, who cry\nsuddenly, without reason, in the midst of day or night, and their body\nshakes with sobs they cannot explain. There are Solidarity 9-6347, who\nare a bright youth, without fear in the day; but they scream in their\nsleep, and they scream: \"Help us! Help us! Help us!\" into the night, in\na voice which chills our bones, but the Doctors cannot cure Solidarity\n9-6347.\n\nAnd as we all undress at night, in the dim light of the candles, our\nbrothers are silent, for they dare not speak the thoughts of their\nminds. For all must agree with all, and they cannot know if their\nthoughts are the thoughts of all, and so they fear to speak. And they\nare glad when the candles are blown for the night. But we, Equality\n7-2521, look through the window upon the sky, and there is peace in the\nsky, and cleanliness, and dignity. And beyond the City there lies the\nplain, and beyond the plain, black upon the black sky, there lies the\nUncharted Forest.\n\nWe do not wish to look upon the Uncharted Forest. We do not wish to\nthink of it. But ever do our eyes return to that black patch upon the\nsky. Men never enter the Uncharted Forest, for there is no power to\nexplore it and no path to lead among its ancient trees which stand\nas guards of fearful secrets. It is whispered that once or twice in a\nhundred years, one among the men of the City escape alone and run to the\nUncharted Forest, without call or reason. These men do not return. They\nperish from hunger and from the claws of the wild beasts which roam the\nForest. But our Councils say that this is only a legend. We have heard\nthat there are many Uncharted Forests over the land, among the Cities.\nAnd it is whispered that they have grown over the ruins of many cities\nof the Unmentionable Times. The trees have swallowed the ruins, and the\nbones under the ruins, and all the things which perished. And as we look\nupon the Uncharted Forest far in the night, we think of the secrets of\nthe Unmentionable Times. And we wonder how it came to pass that these\nsecrets were lost to the world. We have heard the legends of the great\nfighting, in which many men fought on one side and only a few on the\nother. These few were the Evil Ones and they were conquered. Then great\nfires raged over the land. And in these fires the Evil Ones and all the\nthings made by the Evil Ones were burned. And the fire which is called\nthe Dawn of the Great Rebirth, was the Script Fire where all the scripts\nof the Evil Ones were burned, and with them all the words of the Evil\nOnes. Great mountains of flame\nstood in the squares of the Cities for\nthree months. Then came the Great Rebirth.\n\nThe words of the Evil Ones... The words of the Unmentionable Times...\nWhat are the words which we have lost?\n\nMay the Council have mercy upon us! We had no wish to write such a\nquestion, and we knew not what we were doing till we had written it. We\nshall not ask this question and we shall not think it. We shall not call\ndeath upon our head.\n\nAnd yet... And yet... There is some word, one single word which is not\nin the language of men, but which had been. And this is the Unspeakable\nWord, which no men may speak nor hear. But sometimes, and it is rare,\nsometimes, somewhere, one among men find that word. They find it upon\nscraps of old manuscripts or cut into the fragments of ancient stones.\nBut when they speak it they are put to death. There is no crime punished\nby death in this world, save this one crime of speaking the Unspeakable\nWord.\n\nWe have seen one of such men burned alive in the square of the City. And\nit was a sight which has stayed with us through the years, and it haunts\nus, and follows us, and it gives us no rest. We were a child then, ten\nyears old. And we stood in the great square with all the children and\nall the men of the City, sent to behold the burning. They brought the\nTransgressor out into the square and they led them to the pyre. They\nhad torn out the tongue of the Transgressor, so that they could speak no\nlonger. The Transgressor were young and tall. They had hair of gold and\neyes blue as morning. They walked to the pyre, and their step did not\nfalter. And of all the faces on that square, of all the faces which\nshrieked and screamed and spat curses upon them, theirs was the calmest\nand the happiest face.\n\nAs the chains were wound over their body at the stake, and a flame set\nto the pyre, the Transgressor looked upon the City. There was a thin\nthread of blood running from the corner of their mouth, but their lips\nwere smiling. And a monstrous thought came to us then, which has never\nleft us. We had heard of Saints. There are the Saints of Labor, and the\nSaints of the Councils, and the Saints of the Great Rebirth. But we had\nnever seen a Saint nor what the likeness of a Saint should be. And we\nthought then, standing in the square, that the likeness of a Saint was\nthe face we saw before us in the flames, the face of the Transgressor of\nthe Unspeakable Word.\n\nAs the flames rose, a thing happened which no eyes saw but ours, else\nwe would not be living today. Perhaps it had only seemed to us. But it\nseemed to us that the eyes of the Transgressor had chosen us from the\ncrowd and were looking straight upon us. There was no pain in their eyes\nand no knowledge of the agony of their body. There was only joy in them,\nand pride, a pride holier than is fit for human pride to be. And it\nseemed as if these eyes were trying to tell us something through the\nflames, to send into our eyes some word without sound. And it seemed as\nif these eyes were begging us to gather that word and not to let it go\nfrom us and from the earth. But the flames rose and we could not guess\nthe word....\n\nWhat--even if we have to burn for it like the Saint of the Pyre--what is\nthe Unspeakable Word?\n\n\n\n\nPART THREE\n\nWe, Equality 7-2521, have discovered a new power of nature. And we have\ndiscovered it alone, and we alone are to know it.\n\nIt is said. Now let us be lashed for it, if we must. The Council of\nScholars has said that we all know the things which exist and therefore\nthe things which are not known by all do not exist. But we think that\nthe Council of Scholars is blind. The secrets of this earth are not for\nall men to see, but only for those who will seek them. We know, for we\nhave found a secret unknown to all our brothers.\n\nWe know not what this power is nor whence it comes. But we know its\nnature, we have watched it and worked with it. We saw it first two years\nago. One night, we were cutting open the body of a dead frog when we saw\nits leg jerking. It was dead, yet it moved. Some power unknown to men\nwas making it move. We could not understand it. Then, after many tests,\nwe found the answer. The frog had been hanging on a wire of copper; and\nit had been the metal of our knife which had sent the strange power\nto the copper through the brine of the frog's body. We put a piece of\ncopper and a piece of zinc into a jar of brine, we touched a wire\nto them, and there, under our fingers, was a miracle which had never\noccurred before, a new miracle and a new power.\n\nThis discovery haunted us. We followed it in preference to all our\nstudies. We worked with it, we tested it in more ways than we can\ndescribe, and each step was as another miracle unveiling before us.\nWe came to know that we had found the greatest power on earth. For it\ndefies all the laws known to men. It makes the needle move and turn on\nthe compass which we stole from the Home of the Scholars; but we had\nbeen taught, when still a child, that the loadstone points to the north\nand that this is a law which nothing can change; yet our new power\ndefies all laws. We found that it causes lightning, and never have men\nknown what causes lightning. In thunderstorms, we raised a tall rod of\niron by the side of our hole, and we watched it from below. We have\nseen the lightning strike it again and again. And now we know that metal\ndraws the power of the sky, and that metal can be made to give it forth.\n\nWe have built strange things with this discovery of ours. We used for\nit the copper wires which we found here under the ground. We have walked\nthe length of our tunnel, with a candle lighting the way. We could go\nno farther than half a mile, for earth and rock had fallen at both ends.\nBut we gathered all the things we found and we brought them to our work\nplace. We found strange boxes with bars of metal inside, with many\ncords and strands and coils of metal. We found wires that led to strange\nlittle globes of glass on the walls; they contained threads of metal\nthinner than a spider's web.\n\nThese things help us in our work. We do not understand them, but we\nthink that the men of the Unmentionable Times had known our power of the\nsky, and these things had some relation to it. We do not know, but we\nshall learn. We cannot stop now, even though it frightens us that we are\nalone in our knowledge.\n\nNo single one can possess greater wisdom than the many Scholars who are\nelected by all men for their wisdom. Yet we can. We do. We have fought\nagainst saying it, but now it is said. We do not care. We forget all\nmen, all laws and all things save our metals and our wires. So much is\nstill to be learned! So long a road lies before us, and what care we if\nwe must travel it alone!\n\n\n\n\nPART FOUR\n\nMany days passed before we could speak to the Golden One again. But\nthen came the day when the sky turned white, as if the sun had burst and\nspread its flame in the air, and the fields lay still without breath,\nand the dust of the road was white in the glow. So the women of the\nfield were weary, and they tarried over their work, and they were far\nfrom the road when we came. But the Golden One stood alone at the hedge,\nwaiting. We stopped and we saw that their eyes, so hard and scornful to\nthe world, were looking at us as if they would obey any word we might\nspeak.\n\nAnd we said:\n\n\"We have given you a name in our thoughts, Liberty 5-3000.\"\n\n\"What is our name?\" they asked.\n\n\"The Golden One.\"\n\n\"Nor do we call you Equality 7-2521 when we think of you.\"\n\n\"What name have you given us?\" They looked straight into our eyes and\nthey held their head high and they answered:\n\n\"The Unconquered.\"\n\nFor a long time we could not speak. Then we said:\n\n\"Such thoughts as these are forbidden, Golden One.\"\n\n\"But you think such thoughts as these and you wish us to think them.\"\n\nWe looked into their eyes and we could not lie.\n\n\"Yes,\" we whispered, and they smiled, and then we said: \"Our dearest\none, do not obey us.\"\n\nThey stepped back, and their eyes were wide and still.\n\n\"Speak these words again,\" they whispered.\n\n\"Which words?\" we asked. But they did not answer, and we knew it.\n\n\"Our dearest one,\" we whispered.\n\nNever have men said this to women.\n\nThe head of the Golden One bowed slowly, and they stood still before us,\ntheir arms at their sides, the palms of their hands turned to us, as if\ntheir body were delivered in submission to our eyes. And we could not\nspeak.\n\nThen they raised their head, and they spoke simply and gently, as if\nthey wished us to forget some anxiety of their own.\n\n\"The day is hot,\" they said, \"and you have worked for many hours and you\nmust be weary.\"\n\n\"No,\" we answered.\n\n\"It is cooler in the fields,\" they said, \"and there is water to drink.\nAre you thirsty?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" we answered, \"but we cannot cross the hedge.\"\n\n\"We shall bring the water to you,\" they said.\n\nThen they knelt by the moat, they gathered water in their two hands,\nthey rose and they held the water out to our lips.\n\nWe do not know if we drank that water. We only knew suddenly that their\nhands were empty, but we were still holding our lips to their hands, and\nthat they knew it, but did not move.\n\nWe raised our head and stepped back. For we did not understand what had\nmade us do this, and we were afraid to understand it.\n\nAnd the Golden One stepped back, and stood looking upon their hands\nin wonder. Then the Golden One moved away, even though no others were\ncoming, and they moved, stepping back, as if they could not turn from\nus, their arms bent before them, as if they could not lower their hands.\n\n\n\n\nPART FIVE\n\nWe made it. We created it. We brought it forth from the night of the\nages. We alone. Our hands. Our mind. Ours alone and only.\n\nWe know not what we are saying. Our head is reeling. We look upon the\nlight which we have made. We shall be forgiven for anything we say\ntonight....\n\nTonight, after more days and trials than we can count, we finished\nbuilding a strange thing, from the remains of the Unmentionable Times,\na box of glass, devised to give forth the power of the sky of greater\nstrength than we had ever achieved before. And when we put our wires to\nthis box, when we closed the current--the wire glowed! It came to life,\nit turned red, and a circle of light lay on the stone before us.\n\nWe stood, and we held our head in our hands. We could not conceive of\nthat which we had created. We had touched no flint, made no fire. Yet\nhere was light, light that came from nowhere, light from the heart of\nmetal.\n\nWe blew out the candle. Darkness swallowed us. There was nothing left\naround us, nothing save night and a thin thread of flame in it, as a\ncrack in the wall of a prison. We stretched our hands to the wire, and\nwe saw our fingers in the red glow. We could not see our body nor feel\nit, and in that moment nothing existed save our two hands over a wire\nglowing in a black abyss.\n\nThen we thought of the meaning of that which lay before us. We can light\nour tunnel, and the City, and all the Cities of the world with nothing\nsave metal and wires. We can give our brothers a new light, cleaner and\nbrighter than any they have ever known. The power of the sky can be made\nto do men's bidding. There are no limits to its secrets and its might,\nand it can be made to grant us anything if we but choose to ask.\n\nThen we knew what we must do. Our discovery is too great for us to\nwaste our time in sweeping the streets. We must not keep our secret to\nourselves, nor buried under the ground. We must bring it into the sight\nof all men. We need all our time, we need the work rooms of the Home of\nthe Scholars, we want the help of our brother Scholars and their wisdom\njoined to ours. There is so much work ahead for all of us, for all the\nScholars of the world.\n\nIn a month, the World Council of Scholars is to meet in our City. It is\na great Council, to which the wisest of all lands are elected, and it\nmeets once a year in the different Cities of the earth. We shall go to\nthis Council and we shall lay before them, as our gift, this glass box\nwith the power of the sky. We shall confess everything to them. They\nwill see, understand and forgive. For our gift is greater than our\ntransgression. They will explain it to the Council of Vocations, and we\nshall be assigned to the Home of the Scholars. This has never been done\nbefore, but neither has a gift such as ours ever been offered to men.\n\nWe must wait. We must guard our tunnel as we had never guarded it\nbefore. For should any men save the Scholars learn of our secret, they\nwould not understand it, nor would they believe us. They would see\nnothing, save our crime of working alone, and they would destroy us and\nour light. We care not about our body, but our light is...\n\nYes, we do care. For the first time do we care about our body. For this\nwire is as a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our\nblood. Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made\nit, or is there a line to divide these two?\n\nWe stretch out our arms. For the first time do we know how strong our\narms are. And a strange thought comes to us: we wonder, for the first\ntime in our life, what we look like. Men never see their own faces and\nnever ask their brothers about it, for it is evil to have concern for\ntheir own faces or bodies. But tonight, for a reason we cannot fathom,\nwe wish it were possible to us to know the likeness of our own person.\n\n\n\n\nPART SIX\n\nWe have not written for thirty days. For thirty days we have not been\nhere, in our tunnel. We had been caught. It happened on that night when\nwe wrote last. We forgot, that night, to watch the sand in the glass\nwhich tells us when three hours have passed and it is time to return to\nthe City Theatre. When we remembered it, the sand had run out.\n\nWe hastened to the Theatre. But the big tent stood grey and silent\nagainst the sky. The streets of the City lay before us, dark and empty.\nIf we went back to hide in our tunnel, we would be found and our light\nfound with us. So we walked to the Home of the Street Sweepers.\n\nWhen the Council of the Home questioned us, we looked upon the faces of\nthe Council, but there was no curiosity in those faces, and no anger,\nand no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked us: \"Where have you\nbeen?\" we thought of our glass box and of our light, and we forgot all\nelse. And we answered:\n\n\"We will not tell you.\"\n\nThe oldest did not question us further. They turned to the two youngest,\nand said, and their voice was bored:\n\n\"Take our brother Equality 7-2521 to the Palace of Corrective Detention.\nLash them until they tell.\"\n\nSo we were taken to the Stone Room under the Palace of Corrective\nDetention. This room has no windows and it is empty save for an iron\npost. Two men stood by the post, naked but for leather aprons and\nleather hoods over their faces. Those who had brought us departed,\nleaving us to the two Judges who stood in a corner of the room. The\nJudges were small, thin men, grey and bent. They gave the signal to the\ntwo strong hooded ones.\n\nThey tore the clothes from our body, they threw us down upon our knees\nand they tied our hands to the iron post. The first blow of the lash\nfelt as if our spine had been cut in two. The second blow stopped the\nfirst, and for a second we felt nothing, then the pain struck us in our\nthroat and fire ran in our lungs without air. But we did not cry out.\n\nThe lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, but\nwe lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our back. Only\nwe felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancing\nbefore our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill,\na grill of red squares, and then we knew that we were looking at the\nsquares of the iron grill in the door, and there were also the squares\nof stone on the walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting upon\nour back, crossing and re-crossing itself in our flesh.\n\nThen we saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw the red\nfroth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the Judge asked:\n\n\"Where have you been?\"\n\nBut we jerked our head away, hid our face upon our tied hands, and bit\nour lips.\n\nThe lash whistled again. We wondered who was sprinkling burning coal\ndust upon the floor, for we saw drops of red twinkling on the stones\naround us.\n\nThen we knew nothing, save two voices snarling steadily, one after the\nother, even though we knew they were speaking many minutes apart:\n\n\"Where have you been where have you been where have you been where have\nyou been?...\"\n\nAnd our lips moved, but the sound trickled back into our throat, and the\nsound was only:\n\n\"The light... The light... The light....\"\n\nThen we knew nothing.\n\nWe opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor of a cell.\nWe looked upon two hands lying far before us on the bricks, and we moved\nthem, and we knew that they were our hands. But we could not move our\nbody. Then we smiled, for we thought of the light and that we had not\nbetrayed it.\n\nWe lay in our cell for many days. The door opened twice each day, once\nfor the men who brought us bread and water, and once for the Judges.\nMany Judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then the most\nhonored Judges of the City. They stood before us in their white togas,\nand they asked:\n\n\"Are you ready to speak?\"\n\nBut we shook our head, lying before them on the floor. And they\ndeparted.\n\nWe counted each day and each night as it passed. Then, tonight, we knew\nthat we must escape. For tomorrow the World Council of Scholars is to\nmeet in our City.\n\nIt was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention. The locks\nare old on the doors and there are no guards about. There is no reason\nto have guards, for men have never defied the Councils so far as to\nescape from whatever place they were ordered to be. Our body is healthy\nand strength returns to it speedily. We lunged against the door and\nit gave way. We stole through the dark passages, and through the dark\nstreets, and down into our tunnel.\n\nWe lit the candle and we saw that our place had not been found and\nnothing had been touched. And our glass box stood before us on the cold\noven, as we had left it. What matter they now, the scars upon our back!\n\nTomorrow, in the full light of day, we shall take our box, and leave our\ntunnel open, and walk through the streets to the Home of the Scholars.\nWe shall put before them the greatest gift ever offered to men. We shall\ntell them the truth. We shall hand to them, as our confession, these\npages we have written. We shall join our hands to theirs, and we shall\nwork together, with the power of the sky, for the glory of mankind. Our\nblessing upon you, our brothers! Tomorrow, you will take us back into\nyour fold and we shall be an outcast no longer. Tomorrow we shall be one\nof you again. Tomorrow...\n\n\n\n\nPART SEVEN\n\nIt is dark here in the forest. The leaves rustle over our head, black\nagainst the last gold of the sky. The moss is soft and warm. We shall\nsleep on this moss for many nights, till the beasts of the forest come\nto tear our body. We have no bed now, save the moss, and no future, save\nthe beasts.\n\nWe are old now, yet we were young this morning, when we carried our\nglass box through the streets of the City to the Home of the Scholars.\nNo men stopped us, for there were none about from the Palace of\nCorrective Detention, and the others knew nothing. No men stopped us at\nthe gate. We walked through empty passages and into the great hall where\nthe World Council of Scholars sat in solemn meeting.\n\nWe saw nothing as we entered, save the sky in the great windows, blue\nand glowing. Then we saw the Scholars who sat around a long table; they\nwere as shapeless clouds huddled at the rise of the great sky. There\nwere men whose famous names we knew, and others from distant lands whose\nnames we had not heard. We saw a great painting on the wall over their\nheads, of the twenty illustrious men who had invented the candle.\n\nAll the heads of the Council turned to us as we entered. These great and\nwise of the earth did not know what to think of us, and they looked upon\nus with wonder and curiosity, as if we were a miracle. It is true that\nour tunic was torn and stained with brown stains which had been blood.\nWe raised our right arm and we said:\n\n\"Our greeting to you, our honored brothers of the World Council of\nScholars!\"\n\nThen Collective 0-0009, the oldest and wisest of the Council, spoke and\nasked:\n\n\"Who are you, our brother? For you do not look like a Scholar.\"\n\n\"Our name is Equality 7-2521,\" we answered, \"and we are a Street Sweeper\nof this City.\"\n\nThen it was as if a great wind had stricken the hall, for all the\nScholars spoke at once, and they were angry and frightened.\n\n\"A Street Sweeper! A Street Sweeper walking in upon the World Council of\nScholars! It is not to be believed! It is against all the rules and all\nthe laws!\"\n\nBut we knew how to stop them.\n\n\"Our brothers!\" we said. \"We matter not, nor our transgression. It\nis only our brother men who matter. Give no thought to us, for we are\nnothing, but listen to our words, for we bring you a gift such as had\nnever been brought to men. Listen to us, for we hold the future of\nmankind in our hands.\"\n\nThen they listened.\n\nWe placed our glass box upon the table before them. We spoke of it, and\nof our long quest, and of our tunnel, and of our escape from the Palace\nof Corrective Detention. Not a hand moved in that hall, as we spoke, nor\nan eye. Then we put the wires to the box, and they all bent forward and\nsat still, watching. And we stood still, our eyes upon the wire. And\nslowly, slowly as a flush of blood, a red flame trembled in the wire.\nThen the wire glowed.\n\nBut terror struck the men of the Council. They leapt to their feet, they\nran from the table, and they stood pressed against the wall, huddled\ntogether, seeking the warmth of one another's bodies to give them\ncourage.\n\nWe looked upon them and we laughed and said:\n\n\"Fear nothing, our brothers. There is a great power in these wires, but\nthis power is tamed. It is yours. We give it to you.\"\n\nStill they would not move.\n\n\"We give you the power of the sky!\" we cried. \"We give you the key to\nthe earth! Take it, and let us be one of you, the humblest among you.\nLet us all work together, and harness this power, and make it ease the\ntoil of men. Let us throw away our candles and our torches. Let us flood\nour cities with light. Let us bring a new light to men!\"\n\nBut they looked upon us, and suddenly we were afraid. For their eyes\nwere still, and small, and evil.\n\n\"Our brothers!\" we cried. \"Have you nothing to say to us?\"\n\nThen Collective 0-0009 moved forward. They moved to the table and the\nothers followed.\n\n\"Yes,\" spoke Collective 0-0009, \"we have much to say to you.\"\n\nThe sound of their voices brought silence to the hall and to beat of our\nheart.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Collective 0-0009, \"we have much to say to a wretch who have\nbroken all the laws and who boast of their infamy!\n\n\"How dared you think that your mind held greater wisdom than the minds\nof your brothers? And if the Councils had decreed that you should be a\nStreet Sweeper, how dared you think that you could be of greater use to\nmen than in sweeping the streets?\"\n\n\"How dared you, gutter cleaner,\" spoke Fraternity 9-3452, \"to hold\nyourself as one alone and with the thoughts of the one and not of the\nmany?\"\n\n\"You shall be burned at the stake,\" said Democracy 4-6998.\n\n\"No, they shall be lashed,\" said Unanimity 7-3304, \"till there is\nnothing left under the lashes.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Collective 0-0009, \"we cannot decide upon this, our brothers.\nNo such crime has ever been committed, and it is not for us to judge.\nNor for any small Council. We shall deliver this creature to the World\nCouncil itself and let their will be done.\"\n\nWe looked upon them and we pleaded:\n\n\"Our brothers! You are right. Let the will of the Council be done upon\nour body. We do not care. But the light? What will you do with the\nlight?\"\n\nCollective 0-0009 looked upon us, and they smiled.\n\n\"So you think that you have found a new power,\" said Collective 0-0009.\n\"Do all your brothers think that?\"\n\n\"No,\" we answered.\n\n\"What is not thought by all men cannot be true,\" said Collective 0-0009.\n\n\"You have worked on this alone?\" asked International 1-5537.\n\n\"Many men in the Homes of the Scholars have had strange new ideas in the\npast,\" said Solidarity 8-1164, \"but when the majority of their brother\nScholars voted against them, they abandoned their ideas, as all men\nmust.\"\n\n\"This box is useless,\" said Alliance 6-7349.\n\n\"Should it be what they claim of it,\" said Harmony 9-2642, \"then it\nwould bring ruin to the Department of Candles. The Candle is a great\nboon to mankind, as approved by all men. Therefore it cannot be\ndestroyed by the whim of one.\"\n\n\"This would wreck the Plans of the World Council,\" said Unanimity\n2-9913, \"and without the Plans of the World Council the sun cannot rise.\nIt took fifty years to secure the approval of all the Councils for the\nCandle, and to decide upon the number needed, and to re-fit the Plans so\nas to make candles instead of torches. This touched upon thousands and\nthousands of men working in scores of States. We cannot alter the Plans\nagain so soon.\"\n\n\"And if this should lighten the toil of men,\" said Similarity 5-0306,\n\"then it is a great evil, for men have no cause to exist save in toiling\nfor other men.\"\n\nThen Collective 0-0009 rose and pointed at our box.\n\n\"This thing,\" they said, \"must be destroyed.\"\n\nAnd all the others cried as one:\n\n\"It must be destroyed!\"\n\nThen we leapt to the table.\n\nWe seized our box, we shoved them aside, and we ran to the window. We\nturned and we looked at them for the last time, and a rage, such as it\nis not fit for humans to know, choked our voice in our throat.\n\n\"You fools!\" we cried. \"You fools! You thrice-damned fools!\"\n\nWe swung our fist through the windowpane, and we leapt out in a ringing\nrain of glass.\n\nWe fell, but we never let the box fall from our hands. Then we ran. We\nran blindly, and men and houses streaked past us in a torrent without\nshape. And the road seemed not to be flat before us, but as if it were\nleaping up to meet us, and we waited for the earth to rise and strike us\nin the face. But we ran. We knew not where we were going. We knew only\nthat we must run, run to the end of the world, to the end of our days.\n\nThen we knew suddenly that we were lying on a soft earth and that we\nhad stopped. Trees taller than we had ever seen before stood over us in\ngreat silence. Then we knew. We were in the Uncharted Forest. We had\nnot thought of coming here, but our legs had carried our wisdom, and our\nlegs had brought us to the Uncharted Forest against our will.\n\nOur glass box lay beside us. We crawled to it, we fell upon it, our face\nin our arms, and we lay still.\n\nWe lay thus for a long time. Then we rose, we took our box and walked on\ninto the forest.\n\nIt mattered not where we went. We knew that men would not follow us, for\nthey never enter the Uncharted Forest. We had nothing to fear from them.\nThe forest disposes of its own victims. This gave us no fear either.\nOnly we wished to be away, away from the City and from the air that\ntouches upon the air of the City. So we walked on, our box in our arms,\nour heart empty.\n\nWe are doomed. Whatever days are left to us, we shall spend them alone.\nAnd we have heard of the corruption to be found in solitude. We have\ntorn ourselves from the truth which is our brother men, and there is no\nroad back for us, and no redemption.\n\nWe know these things, but we do not care. We care for nothing on earth.\nWe are tired.\n\nOnly the glass box in our arms is like a living heart that gives us\nstrength. We have lied to ourselves. We have not built this box for the\ngood of our brothers. We built it for its own sake. It is above all our\nbrothers to us, and its truth above their truth. Why wonder about this?\nWe have not many days to live. We are walking to the fangs awaiting us\nsomewhere among the great, silent trees. There is not a thing behind us\nto regret.\n\nThen a blow of pain struck us, our first and our only. We thought of the\nGolden One. We thought of the Golden One whom we shall never see again.\nThen the pain passed. It is best. We are one of the Damned. It is best\nif the Golden One forget our name and the body which bore that name.\n\n\n\n\nPART EIGHT\n\nIt has been a day of wonder, this, our first day in the forest.\n\nWe awoke when a ray of sunlight fell across our face. We wanted to leap\nto our feet, as we have had to leap every morning of our life, but we\nremembered suddenly that no bell had rung and that there was no bell to\nring anywhere. We lay on our back, we threw our arms out, and we looked\nup at the sky. The leaves had edges of silver that trembled and rippled\nlike a river of green and fire flowing high above us.\n\nWe did not wish to move. We thought suddenly that we could lie thus as\nlong as we wished, and we laughed aloud at the thought. We could also\nrise, or run, or leap, or fall down again. We were thinking that these\nwere thoughts without sense, but before we knew it our body had risen in\none leap. Our arms stretched out of their own will, and our body whirled\nand whirled, till it raised a wind to rustle through the leaves of the\nbushes. Then our hands seized a branch and swung us high into a tree,\nwith no aim save the wonder of learning the strength of our body. The\nbranch snapped under us and we fell upon the moss that was soft as a\ncushion. Then our body, losing all sense, rolled over and over on the\nmoss, dry leaves in our tunic, in our hair, in our face. And we heard\nsuddenly that we were laughing, laughing aloud, laughing as if there\nwere no power left in us save laughter.\n\nThen we took our glass box, and we went on into the forest. We went on,\ncutting through the branches, and it was as if we were swimming through\na sea of leaves, with the bushes as waves rising and falling and rising\naround us, and flinging their green sprays high to the treetops. The\ntrees parted before us, calling us forward. The forest seemed to welcome\nus. We went on, without thought, without care, with nothing to feel save\nthe song of our body.\n\nWe stopped when we felt hunger. We saw birds in the tree branches, and\nflying from under our footsteps. We picked a stone and we sent it as an\narrow at a bird. It fell before us. We made a fire, we cooked the bird,\nand we ate it, and no meal had ever tasted better to us. And we thought\nsuddenly that there was a great satisfaction to be found in the food\nwhich we need and obtain by our own hand. And we wished to be hungry\nagain and soon, that we might know again this strange new pride in\neating.\n\nThen we walked on. And we came to a stream which lay as a streak of\nglass among the trees. It lay so still that we saw no water but only a\ncut in the earth, in which the trees grew down, upturned, and the sky\nlay at the bottom. We knelt by the stream and we bent down to drink. And\nthen we stopped. For, upon the blue of the sky below us, we saw our own\nface for the first time.\n\nWe sat still and we held our breath. For our face and our body were\nbeautiful. Our face was not like the faces of our brothers, for we felt\nnot pity when looking upon it. Our body was not like the bodies of our\nbrothers, for our limbs were straight and thin and hard and strong. And\nwe thought that we could trust this being who looked upon us from the\nstream, and that we had nothing to fear with this being.\n\nWe walked on till the sun had set. When the shadows gathered among the\ntrees, we stopped in a hollow between the roots, where we shall sleep\ntonight. And suddenly, for the first time this day, we remembered that\nwe are the Damned. We remembered it, and we laughed.\n\nWe are writing this on the paper we had hidden in our tunic together\nwith the written pages we had brought for the World Council of Scholars,\nbut never given to them. We have much to speak of to ourselves, and we\nhope we shall find the words for it in the days to come. Now, we cannot\nspeak, for we cannot understand.\n\n\n\n\nPART NINE\n\nWe have not written for many days. We did not wish to speak. For we\nneeded no words to remember that which has happened to us.\n\nIt was on our second day in the forest that we heard steps behind us. We\nhid in the bushes, and we waited. The steps came closer. And then we saw\nthe fold of a white tunic among the trees, and a gleam of gold.\n\nWe leapt forward, we ran to them, and we stood looking upon the Golden\nOne.\n\nThey saw us, and their hands closed into fists, and the fists pulled\ntheir arms down, as if they wished their arms to hold them, while their\nbody swayed. And they could not speak.\n\nWe dared not come too close to them. We asked, and our voice trembled:\n\n\"How did you come to be here, Golden One?\"\n\nBut they whispered only:\n\n\"We have found you....\"\n\n\"How did you come to be in the forest?\" we asked.\n\nThey raised their head, and there was a great pride in their voice; they\nanswered:\n\n\"We have followed you.\"\n\nThen we could not speak, and they said:\n\n\"We heard that you had gone to the Uncharted Forest, for the whole City\nis speaking of it. So on the night of the day when we heard it, we ran\naway from the Home of the Peasants. We found the marks of your feet\nacross the plain where no men walk. So we followed them, and we went\ninto the forest, and we followed the path where the branches were broken\nby your body.\"\n\nTheir white tunic was torn, and the branches had cut the skin of their\narms, but they spoke as if they had never taken notice of it, nor of\nweariness, nor of fear.\n\n\"We have followed you,\" they said, \"and we shall follow you wherever you\ngo. If danger threatens you, we shall face it also. If it be death,\nwe shall die with you. You are damned, and we wish to share your\ndamnation.\"\n\nThey looked upon us, and their voice was low, but there was bitterness\nand triumph in their voice.\n\n\"Your eyes are as a flame, but our brothers have neither hope nor fire.\nYour mouth is cut of granite, but our brothers are soft and humble. Your\nhead is high, but our brothers cringe. You walk, but our brothers\ncrawl. We wish to be damned with you, rather than blessed with all our\nbrothers. Do as you please with us, but do not send us away from you.\"\n\nThen they knelt, and bowed their golden head before us.\n\nWe had never thought of that which we did. We bent to raise the Golden\nOne to their feet, but when we touched them, it was as if madness had\nstricken us. We seized their body and we pressed our lips to theirs. The\nGolden One breathed once, and their breath was a moan, and then their\narms closed around us.\n\nWe stood together for a long time. And we were frightened that we had\nlived for twenty-one years and had never known what joy is possible to\nmen.\n\nThen we said:\n\n\"Our dearest one. Fear nothing of the forest. There is no danger in\nsolitude. We have no need of our brothers. Let us forget their good and\nour evil, let us forget all things save that we are together and that\nthere is joy as a bond between us. Give us your hand. Look ahead. It is\nour own world, Golden One, a strange, unknown world, but our own.\"\n\nThen we walked on into the forest, their hand in ours.\n\nAnd that night we knew that to hold the body of women in our arms is\nneither ugly nor shameful, but the one ecstasy granted to the race of\nmen.\n\nWe have walked for many days. The forest has no end, and we seek no end.\nBut each day added to the chain of days between us and the City is like\nan added blessing.\n\nWe have made a bow and many arrows. We can kill more birds than we need\nfor our food; we find water and fruit in the forest. At night, we choose\na clearing, and we build a ring of fires around it. We sleep in the\nmidst of that ring, and the beasts dare not attack us. We can see their\neyes, green and yellow as coals, watching us from the tree branches\nbeyond. The fires smoulder as a crown of jewels around us, and smoke\nstands still in the air, in columns made blue by the moonlight. We sleep\ntogether in the midst of the ring, the arms of the Golden One around us,\ntheir head upon our breast.\n\nSome day, we shall stop and build a house, when we shall have gone far\nenough. But we do not have to hasten. The days before us are without\nend, like the forest.\n\nWe cannot understand this new life which we have found, yet it seems so\nclear and so simple. When questions come to puzzle us, we walk faster,\nthen turn and forget all things as we watch the Golden One following.\nThe shadows of leaves fall upon their arms, as they spread the branches\napart, but their shoulders are in the sun. The skin of their arms is\nlike a blue mist, but their shoulders are white and glowing, as if the\nlight fell not from above, but rose from under their skin. We watch the\nleaf which has fallen upon their shoulder, and it lies at the curve\nof their neck, and a drop of dew glistens upon it like a jewel. They\napproach us, and they stop, laughing, knowing what we think, and they\nwait obediently, without questions, till it pleases us to turn and go\non.\n\nWe go on and we bless the earth under our feet. But questions come to\nus again, as we walk in silence. If that which we have found is the\ncorruption of solitude, then what can men wish for save corruption? If\nthis is the great evil of being alone, then what is good and what is\nevil?\n\nEverything which comes from the many is good. Everything which comes\nfrom one is evil. This have we been taught with our first breath. We\nhave broken the law, but we have never doubted it. Yet now, as we walk\nthrough the forest, we are learning to doubt.\n\nThere is no life for men, save in useful toil for the good of all their\nbrothers. But we lived not, when we toiled for our brothers, we were\nonly weary. There is no joy for men, save the joy shared with all their\nbrothers. But the only things which taught us joy were the power we\ncreated in our wires, and the Golden One. And both these joys belong\nto us alone, they come from us alone, they bear no relation to all our\nbrothers, and they do not concern our brothers in any way. Thus do we\nwonder.\n\nThere is some error, one frightful error, in the thinking of men. What\nis that error? We do not know, but the knowledge struggles within us,\nstruggles to be born. Today, the Golden One stopped suddenly and said:\n\n\"We love you.\"\n\nBut they frowned and shook their head and looked at us helplessly.\n\n\"No,\" they whispered, \"that is not what we wished to say.\"\n\nThey were silent, then they spoke slowly, and their words were halting,\nlike the words of a child learning to speak for the first time:\n\n\"We are one... alone... and only... and we love you who are one...\nalone... and only.\"\n\nWe looked into each other's eyes and we knew that the breath of a\nmiracle had touched us, and fled, and left us groping vainly.\n\nAnd we felt torn, torn for some word we could not find.\n\n\n\n\nPART TEN\n\nWe are sitting at a table and we are writing this upon paper made\nthousands of years ago. The light is dim, and we cannot see the Golden\nOne, only one lock of gold on the pillow of an ancient bed. This is our\nhome.\n\nWe came upon it today, at sunrise. For many days we had been crossing a\nchain of mountains. The forest rose among cliffs, and whenever we walked\nout upon a barren stretch of rock we saw great peaks before us in the\nwest, and to the north of us, and to the south, as far as our eyes could\nsee. The peaks were red and brown, with the green streaks of forests as\nveins upon them, with blue mists as veils over their heads. We had never\nheard of these mountains, nor seen them marked on any map. The Uncharted\nForest has protected them from the Cities and from the men of the\nCities.\n\nWe climbed paths where the wild goat dared not follow. Stones rolled\nfrom under our feet, and we heard them striking the rocks below, farther\nand farther down, and the mountains rang with each stroke, and long\nafter the strokes had died. But we went on, for we knew that no men\nwould ever follow our track nor reach us here.\n\nThen today, at sunrise, we saw a white flame among the trees, high on a\nsheer peak before us. We thought that it was a fire and stopped. But the\nflame was unmoving, yet blinding as liquid metal. So we climbed toward\nit through the rocks. And there, before us, on a broad summit, with the\nmountains rising behind it, stood a house such as we had never seen, and\nthe white fire came from the sun on the glass of its windows.\n\nThe house had two stories and a strange roof flat as a floor. There was\nmore window than wall upon its walls, and the windows went on straight\naround the corners, though how this kept the house standing we could not\nguess. The walls were hard and smooth, of that stone unlike stone which\nwe had seen in our tunnel.\n\nWe both knew it without words: this house was left from the\nUnmentionable Times. The trees had protected it from time and weather,\nand from men who have less pity than time and weather. We turned to the\nGolden One and we asked:\n\n\"Are you afraid?\"\n\nBut they shook their head. So we walked to the door, and we threw it\nopen, and we stepped together into the house of the Unmentionable Times.\n\nWe shall need the days and the years ahead, to look, to learn, and to\nunderstand the things of this house. Today, we could only look and try\nto believe the sight of our eyes. We pulled the heavy curtains from the\nwindows and we saw that the rooms were small, and we thought that not\nmore than twelve men could have lived here. We thought it strange that\nmen had been permitted to build a house for only twelve.\n\nNever had we seen rooms so full of light. The sunrays danced upon\ncolors, colors, more colors than we thought possible, we who had seen\nno houses save the white ones, the brown ones and the grey. There were\ngreat pieces of glass on the walls, but it was not glass, for when we\nlooked upon it we saw our own bodies and all the things behind us, as\non the face of a lake. There were strange things which we had never\nseen and the use of which we do not know. And there were globes of glass\neverywhere, in each room, the globes with the metal cobwebs inside, such\nas we had seen in our tunnel.\n\nWe found the sleeping hall and we stood in awe upon its threshold. For\nit was a small room and there were only two beds in it. We found no\nother beds in the house, and then we knew that only two had lived here,\nand this passes understanding. What kind of world did they have, the men\nof the Unmentionable Times?\n\nWe found garments, and the Golden One gasped at the sight of them. For\nthey were not white tunics, nor white togas; they were of all colors, no\ntwo of them alike. Some crumbled to dust as we touched them. But others\nwere of heavier cloth, and they felt soft and new in our fingers.\n\nWe found a room with walls made of shelves, which held rows of\nmanuscripts, from the floor to the ceiling. Never had we seen such\na number of them, nor of such strange shape. They were not soft and\nrolled, they had hard shells of cloth and leather; and the letters on\ntheir pages were so small and so even that we wondered at the men who\nhad such handwriting. We glanced through the pages, and we saw that they\nwere written in our language, but we found many words which we could not\nunderstand. Tomorrow, we shall begin to read these scripts.\n\nWhen we had seen all the rooms of the house, we looked at the Golden One\nand we both knew the thought in our minds.\n\n\"We shall never leave this house,\" we said, \"nor let it be taken from\nus. This is our home and the end of our journey. This is your house,\nGolden One, and ours, and it belongs to no other men whatever as far as\nthe earth may stretch. We shall not share it with others, as we share\nnot our joy with them, nor our love, nor our hunger. So be it to the end\nof our days.\"\n\n\"Your will be done,\" they said.\n\nThen we went out to gather wood for the great hearth of our home. We\nbrought water from the stream which runs among the trees under our\nwindows. We killed a mountain goat, and we brought its flesh to be\ncooked in a strange copper pot we found in a place of wonders, which\nmust have been the cooking room of the house.\n\nWe did this work alone, for no words of ours could take the Golden One\naway from the big glass which is not glass. They stood before it and\nthey looked and looked upon their own body.\n\nWhen the sun sank beyond the mountains, the Golden One fell asleep on\nthe floor, amidst jewels, and bottles of crystal, and flowers of silk.\nWe lifted the Golden One in our arms and we carried them to a bed, their\nhead falling softly upon our shoulder. Then we lit a candle, and we\nbrought paper from the room of the manuscripts, and we sat by the\nwindow, for we knew that we could not sleep tonight.\n\nAnd now we look upon the earth and sky. This spread of naked rock and\npeaks and moonlight is like a world ready to be born, a world that\nwaits. It seems to us it asks a sign from us, a spark, a first\ncommandment. We cannot know what word we are to give, nor what great\ndeed this earth expects to witness. We know it waits. It seems to say it\nhas great gifts to lay before us, but it wishes a greater gift for us.\nWe are to speak. We are to give its goal, its highest meaning to all\nthis glowing space of rock and sky.\n\nWe look ahead, we beg our heart for guidance in answering this call no\nvoice has spoken, yet we have heard. We look upon our hands. We see\nthe dust of centuries, the dust which hid the great secrets and perhaps\ngreat evils. And yet it stirs no fear within our heart, but only silent\nreverence and pity.\n\nMay knowledge come to us! What is the secret our heart has understood\nand yet will not reveal to us, although it seems to beat as if it were\nendeavoring to tell it?\n\n\n\n\nPART ELEVEN\n\nI am. I think. I will.\n\nMy hands... My spirit... My sky... My forest... This earth of mine....\nWhat must I say besides? These are the words. This is the answer.\n\nI stand here on the summit of the mountain. I lift my head and I spread\nmy arms. This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest. I\nwished to know the meaning of things. I am the meaning. I wished to\nfind a warrant for being. I need no warrant for being, and no word of\nsanction upon my being. I am the warrant and the sanction.\n\nIt is my eyes which see, and the sight of my eyes grants beauty to the\nearth. It is my ears which hear, and the hearing of my ears gives its\nsong to the world. It is my mind which thinks, and the judgement of\nmy mind is the only searchlight that can find the truth. It is my\nwill which chooses, and the choice of my will is the only edict I must\nrespect.\n\nMany words have been granted me, and some are wise, and some are false,\nbut only three are holy: \"I will it!\"\n\nWhatever road I take, the guiding star is within me; the guiding star\nand the loadstone which point the way. They point in but one direction.\nThey point to me.\n\nI know not if this earth on which I stand is the core of the universe\nor if it is but a speck of dust lost in eternity. I know not and I\ncare not. For I know what happiness is possible to me on earth. And my\nhappiness needs no higher aim to vindicate it. My happiness is not\nthe means to any end. It is the end. It is its own goal. It is its own\npurpose.\n\nNeither am I the means to any end others may wish to accomplish. I am\nnot a tool for their use. I am not a servant of their needs. I am not a\nbandage for their wounds. I am not a sacrifice on their altars.\n\nI am a man. This miracle of me is mine to own and keep, and mine to\nguard, and mine to use, and mine to kneel before!\n\nI do not surrender my treasures, nor do I share them. The fortune of my\nspirit is not to be blown into coins of brass and flung to the winds as\nalms for the poor of the spirit. I guard my treasures: my thought, my\nwill, my freedom. And the greatest of these is freedom.\n\nI owe nothing to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them. I ask\nnone to live for me, nor do I live for any others. I covet no man's\nsoul, nor is my soul theirs to covet.\n\nI am neither foe nor friend to my brothers, but such as each of them\nshall deserve of me. And to earn my love, my brothers must do more than\nto have been born. I do not grant my love without reason, nor to any\nchance passer-by who may wish to claim it. I honor men with my love. But\nhonor is a thing to be earned.\n\nI shall choose friends among men, but neither slaves nor masters. And I\nshall choose only such as please me, and them I shall love and respect,\nbut neither command nor obey. And we shall join our hands when we wish,\nor walk alone when we so desire. For in the temple of his spirit, each\nman is alone. Let each man keep his temple untouched and undefiled. Then\nlet him join hands with others if he wishes, but only beyond his holy\nthreshold.\n\nFor the word \"We\" must never be spoken, save by one's choice and as a\nsecond thought. This word must never be placed first within man's soul,\nelse it becomes a monster, the root of all the evils on earth, the root\nof man's torture by men, and of an unspeakable lie.\n\nThe word \"We\" is as lime poured over men, which sets and hardens to\nstone, and crushes all beneath it, and that which is white and that\nwhich is black are lost equally in the grey of it. It is the word by\nwhich the depraved steal the virtue of the good, by which the weak steal\nthe might of the strong, by which the fools steal the wisdom of the\nsages.\n\nWhat is my joy if all hands, even the unclean, can reach into it? What\nis my wisdom, if even the fools can dictate to me? What is my freedom,\nif all creatures, even the botched and the impotent, are my masters?\nWhat is my life, if I am but to bow, to agree and to obey?\n\nBut I am done with this creed of corruption.\n\nI am done with the monster of \"We,\" the word of serfdom, of plunder, of\nmisery, falsehood and shame.\n\nAnd now I see the face of god, and I raise this god over the earth, this\ngod whom men have sought since men came into being, this god who will\ngrant them joy and peace and pride.\n\nThis god, this one word:\n\n\"I.\"\n\n\n\n\nPART TWELVE\n\nIt was when I read the first of the books I found in my house that I\nsaw the word \"I.\" And when I understood this word, the book fell from\nmy hands, and I wept, I who had never known tears. I wept in deliverance\nand in pity for all mankind.\n\nI understood the blessed thing which I had called my curse. I understood\nwhy the best in me had been my sins and my transgressions; and why I had\nnever felt guilt in my sins. I understood that centuries of chains and\nlashes will not kill the spirit of man nor the sense of truth within\nhim.\n\nI read many books for many days. Then I called the Golden One, and I\ntold her what I had read and what I had learned. She looked at me and\nthe first words she spoke were:\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\nThen I said:\n\n\"My dearest one, it is not proper for men to be without names. There was\na time when each man had a name of his own to distinguish him from all\nother men. So let us choose our names. I have read of a man who lived\nmany thousands of years ago, and of all the names in these books, his is\nthe one I wish to bear. He took the light of the gods and he brought it\nto men, and he taught men to be gods. And he suffered for his deed as\nall bearers of light must suffer. His name was Prometheus.\"\n\n\"It shall be your name,\" said the Golden One.\n\n\"And I have read of a goddess,\" I said, \"who was the mother of the earth\nand of all the gods. Her name was Gaea. Let this be your name, my Golden\nOne, for you are to be the mother of a new kind of gods.\"\n\n\"It shall be my name,\" said the Golden One.\n\nNow I look ahead. My future is clear before me. The Saint of the pyre\nhad seen the future when he chose me as his heir, as the heir of all the\nsaints and all the martyrs who came before him and who died for the same\ncause, for the same word, no matter what name they gave to their cause\nand their truth.\n\nI shall live here, in my own house. I shall take my food from the earth\nby the toil of my own hands. I shall learn many secrets from my books.\nThrough the years ahead, I shall rebuild the achievements of the past,\nand open the way to carry them further, the achievements which are open\nto me, but closed forever to my brothers, for their minds are shackled\nto the weakest and dullest ones among them.\n\nI have learned that my power of the sky was known to men long ago;\nthey called it Electricity. It was the power that moved their greatest\ninventions. It lit this house with light which came from those globes of\nglass on the walls. I have found the engine which produced this light.\nI shall learn how to repair it and how to make it work again. I shall\nlearn how to use the wires which carry this power. Then I shall build a\nbarrier of wires around my home, and across the paths which lead to\nmy home; a barrier light as a cobweb, more impassable than a wall of\ngranite; a barrier my brothers will never be able to cross. For they\nhave nothing to fight me with, save the brute force of their numbers. I\nhave my mind.\n\nThen here, on this mountaintop, with the world below me and nothing\nabove me but the sun, I shall live my own truth. Gaea is pregnant with\nmy child. Our son will be raised as a man. He will be taught to say \"I\"\nand to bear the pride of it. He will be taught to walk straight and on\nhis own feet. He will be taught reverence for his own spirit.\n\nWhen I shall have read all the books and learned my new way, when my\nhome will be ready and my earth tilled, I shall steal one day, for\nthe last time, into the cursed City of my birth. I shall call to me my\nfriend who has no name save International 4-8818, and all those like\nhim, Fraternity 2-5503, who cries without reason, and Solidarity 9-6347\nwho calls for help in the night, and a few others. I shall call to me\nall the men and the women whose spirit has not been killed within them\nand who suffer under the yoke of their brothers. They will follow me\nand I shall lead them to my fortress. And here, in this uncharted\nwilderness, I and they, my chosen friends, my fellow-builders, shall\nwrite the first chapter in the new history of man.\n\nThese are the things before me. And as I stand here at the door of\nglory, I look behind me for the last time. I look upon the history of\nmen, which I have learned from the books, and I wonder. It was a long\nstory, and the spirit which moved it was the spirit of man's freedom.\nBut what is freedom? Freedom from what? There is nothing to take a man's\nfreedom away from him, save other men. To be free, a man must be free of\nhis brothers. That is freedom. That and nothing else.\n\nAt first, man was enslaved by the gods. But he broke their chains. Then\nhe was enslaved by the kings. But he broke their chains. He was enslaved\nby his birth, by his kin, by his race. But he broke their chains. He\ndeclared to all his brothers that a man has rights which neither god nor\nking nor other men can take away from him, no matter what their number,\nfor his is the right of man, and there is no right on earth above this\nright. And he stood on the threshold of the freedom for which the blood\nof the centuries behind him had been spilled.\n\nBut then he gave up all he had won, and fell lower than his savage\nbeginning.\n\nWhat brought it to pass? What disaster took their reason away from\nmen? What whip lashed them to their knees in shame and submission? The\nworship of the word \"We.\"\n\nWhen men accepted that worship, the structure of centuries collapsed\nabout them, the structure whose every beam had come from the thought of\nsome one man, each in his day down the ages, from the depth of some\none spirit, such spirit as existed but for its own sake. Those men who\nsurvived those eager to obey, eager to live for one another, since they\nhad nothing else to vindicate them--those men could neither carry on,\nnor preserve what they had received. Thus did all thought, all science,\nall wisdom perish on earth. Thus did men--men with nothing to offer save\ntheir great number--lost the steel towers, the flying ships, the\npower wires, all the things they had not created and could never keep.\nPerhaps, later, some men had been born with the mind and the courage to\nrecover these things which were lost; perhaps these men came before the\nCouncils of Scholars. They were answered as I have been answered--and\nfor the same reasons.\n\nBut I still wonder how it was possible, in those graceless years of\ntransition, long ago, that men did not see whither they were going, and\nwent on, in blindness and cowardice, to their fate. I wonder, for it is\nhard for me to conceive how men who knew the word \"I\" could give it up\nand not know what they lost. But such has been the story, for I have\nlived in the City of the damned, and I know what horror men permitted to\nbe brought upon them.\n\nPerhaps, in those days, there were a few among men, a few of clear sight\nand clean soul, who refused to surrender that word. What agony must\nhave been theirs before that which they saw coming and could not stop!\nPerhaps they cried out in protest and in warning. But men paid no heed\nto their warning. And they, these few, fought a hopeless battle, and\nthey perished with their banners smeared by their own blood. And they\nchose to perish, for they knew. To them, I send my salute across the\ncenturies, and my pity.\n\nTheirs is the banner in my hand. And I wish I had the power to tell them\nthat the despair of their hearts was not to be final, and their night\nwas not without hope. For the battle they lost can never be lost. For\nthat which they died to save can never perish. Through all the darkness,\nthrough all the shame of which men are capable, the spirit of man will\nremain alive on this earth. It may sleep, but it will awaken. It may\nwear chains, but it will break through. And man will go on. Man, not\nmen.\n\nHere on this mountain, I and my sons and my chosen friends shall build\nour new land and our fort. And it will become as the heart of the earth,\nlost and hidden at first, but beating, beating louder each day. And word\nof it will reach every corner of the earth. And the roads of the world\nwill become as veins which will carry the best of the world's blood to\nmy threshold. And all my brothers, and the Councils of my brothers, will\nhear of it, but they will be impotent against me. And the day will come\nwhen I shall break all the chains of the earth, and raze the cities of\nthe enslaved, and my home will become the capital of a world where each\nman will be free to exist for his own sake.\n\nFor the coming of that day shall I fight, I and my sons and my chosen\nfriends. For the freedom of Man. For his rights. For his life. For his\nhonor.\n\nAnd here, over the portals of my fort, I shall cut in the stone the word\nwhich is to be my beacon and my banner. The word which will not die,\nshould we all perish in battle. The word which can never die on this\nearth, for it is the heart of it and the meaning and the glory.\n\nThe sacred word:\n\nEGO"