Where Now a New and Splendid
Life will Begin

I was only a schoolboy at the time, but I shall never
forget my first glimpse of the High City, or the stimulating
sensation, like the tips of countless pincneedles lightly
pricking my skin, of the tonic air, full of electricity,
after the enervating boardship atmosphere in which I
had been living for some days. The death of both my
parents in a road accident had left, nothing but debts, so
that I couldn’t travel by air, as almost everyone did who
came to this new town, so unlike anything I had ever
seen before, where I was about to begin a new and splen—
did life, thanks to an unknown rich uncle, who had
always been a sort of family fable, and had now offered
to take responsibility for me.

The sun was shining as I stood on the deck of the
cargo boat, a stiff breeze whipped the bright blue water
with emerald strokes, In the part of the world I had just
left much of the traffic still went on by sea, and though
I'd gathered from conversations on board that this was
not the case here, the absence of shipping seemed un~
natural, although the sky was crowded with planes,
flashing in all directions like brilliant scarabs, trailing
their crisscross patterns of pure white vapour over the
cloudless deep blue.

But really I was only interested in the fantastic sky-
towers of the city in front of me, grouped in a great
arrowhead, which, in their superb architecture and mira—
culous planning, had already become the universal blue
print of an unattainable perfection, unsuccessfully imi-
tated by other countries all over the globe. Here was the
reality, straight ahead; yet I could hardly believe I was
seeing with my own eyes the incredible buildings, so far
familiar to me only through photographs. All shapes
were hard and sharp in the limpid light, each giant
structure stood out with the frozen sharpness of burn-
ished metal against; the perfectly clear sky. And, all
together, the extraordinary crowd of pale sheer nucle-
looking towers made a terrific impact, producing an
effect that seemed to me unearthly, almost uncanny, in
the strong uncompromising sunshine.

Their huge presences, dominating my mind as they did
the scene, gave the impression of arrested movement, as
if they had just rushed together at the tip of the land, to
stand, a cloud of mysterious witnesses, watching my
arrival, and exuding some special meaning, or message,
connected with me personally, which I was unable to
grasp. It was hard to go on looking at them, and yet. I
could look nowhere else. I found that they inspired in
me an awe hardly distinguishable from uneasiness, and,
to control it, I began trying to think what they suggested
to me, as if, like this, I could confine their strangeness
within the boundaries of words with which I felt at
home. Giant cactus spines, I first thought; though the
next moment their pale colouring made me think of
some monstrous upthrust of naked limbs . . . indestructible
flesh of Titans . . . I couldn't imagine what sort of
human beings were housed there, presumably going
about their affairs unconcerned . . .

So far, I had been gazing at the summits of the colossal
buildings; now, when I lowered my eyes, I was astonished
to see that a bank of fog or cloud - in spite of the limpid
clarity of the atrnosphere - hid their bases, rising to
about the height of an ordinary small house, where it
stopped abruptly extending in all directions a surface
as flat as a table. The extremely pure strong light made
mistiness of any description seem an impossibility, and
also gave a jewel—hard definition to every outline, includ—
ing that of the strange cloud-form, which was drawn as
sharply as any table—edge across the vast structures em-
bedded in it. I could not understand why the strong sea
wind didn't blow it away. But it remained obstinately
static, motionless and unchanging.

There was something so odd about this cloudy mass which, according to all natural laws known to me shouldn't have been there at all, that I went on staring at it until I made a discovery. Perhaps the ship’s motion, or some idiosyncrasy of marine light or reflexion, momentarily showed me the scene from a different angle,so that what had appeared as a considerable depth of vaporous density, a solid fogbank, obscuring all the city’s
foundations, was revealed as no more than a single layer
of cloud, a light level horizontal plane, anchored there,
quite impervious to the wind.

Beneath this fixed ceiling, the immobility of which
gave very strongly the effect of being an artificial product,
the enormous plinths supporting the city were clearly
visible for a second, each one pierced by an elaborate
system of black tunnels, and separated from the rest by
deep narrow crevice-like streets. For this second, it was
exactly as though I’d caught sight of another whole city
under the roof of cloud; a city of burrows and sub-
terranean ways to which no ray of sunshine could ever
penetrate, as different as possible from the majestic
glittering splendid city above in the upper air.

Then the cloud thickened again, fog came down like
a curtain, ending my brief glimpse of this under—city-
if it had been real. I could almost believe I had imagined
the whole thing - that it had been some sort of optical
illusion. Yet, at the idea of people groping their way
through those sunless cracks between the giant: pedi-
ments, I felt an instant of strange apprehension. Just for
this moment, everything about the place seemed frighten-
ing and strange-in a sudden wave of homesickness, I
longed for my father and mother, who had perished so
senselessly, leaving me at the mercy of the unknown. If
only I'd had some other relative to take charge of me,
so that I could, at least, have stayed in my own country.
All at once, the future seemed obscure and alarming:
suppose my uncle didn't like me, or though I was stupid?
Although I had always done well enough at school, I
realized that the requirements here might be totally
different; and saw, as if for the first time, how difficult
it could be to start all over again, among strangers, in
a strange land. But then, with youthful resilience, I
deliberately thought of the excitement of coming here,
to the finest city on earth, which everyone wanted to see,
reminding myself how envious my schoolfellows had
been, and how they’d all wished to change places with
me.

“Marvellous sight, isn’t it?” a voice called out, interrupting 
my thoughts. The only other passenger travelling
on the cargoboat was approaching, gazing ahead with a
delighted expression, and swinging a pair of fieldglasses
on a strap. Coming to stand beside me at the forward
rail, this dark good—looking young man trained his glasses
on the astounding sky-town, and proceeded to give a sort
of running commentary on what he saw, describing the
detail of spires and pinnacles, the colossal sculptures of
winged symbolic figures, the terraced gardens that ringed
the great towers, some open to the air, others enclosed,
and with blazing tropical flowers visible through the
glass.

My attention wandering, I wondered why he bothered
with these descriptions, for he’d never had any time for
me up to now, letting it be seen very clearly that he
looked down on me for being a mere schoolboy. He
himself had already been to a university, as he was fond
of telling anyone who would listen, thus getting himself
nicknamed the Undergraduate, or the Student, on
board. He was only a few years older than I was; but we
were both still at the immature stage where five years
may constitute a greater division than twenty-five later
on. Throughout the voyage, he had obviously preferred
the company of the ship’s officers to mine, so our rela-
tions could hardly be called cordial. I could only suppose
he was talking to me because his other acquaintances
were all busy with special duties now that we had
arrived at our destination. And, in fact, I saw several of
them in charge of small groups of seamen about the deck,
organizing work on the various holds from which the
cargo would soon be unloaded.

“How gloriously those buildings shine, as if they were
made of pure gold,“ my companion was rhapsodizing.
“People are quite right to say the approach to the High
City is the most impressive sight in the world - superb,
that's what it is; absolutely superb."

Surprised by such enthusiasm, 1 looked at him directly
now for the first time, and was still more surprised by
his elegance. All the while we had been at sea, he'd been
dressed, as I was myself, in slacks and a thick woollen
sweater; I‘d never seen him in any other clothes, although
he was careful to tell everyone he had plenty of cash —
that he was writing a book, and only travelled by sea in
order to collect material for it not because he was hard
up. I had always thought this was just part of his con-
ceited attitude, which I disliked. But now he was wearing
a well-cut dark suit under a camelhair coat, at which
I looked admiringly; and, noticing also the brown suede
shoes that had replaced his rope—soled espadrilles, I
could not help commenting on his smartness.

“You have to look smart here,” he said, in a gratified
voice, glancing down at himself complacently. Then, to
reward me for the compliment I had just paid him, he
held the field—glasses in front of my eyes and told me to
have a look, at the same time twiddling the screw that
controlled the focussing apparatus. "There, is that clear
now? Doesn’t every detail stand out in this wonderful
light? The air’s like champagne —it’s a tonic to breathe
it into one’s lungs. Have a good look —it’s the wonder-
city of the world you see before you. It marks a new
stage in human development~ the age of metropolitan
man is beginning - has already begun —"

I wished that, instead of talking in this affected pre-
tentious way, he’d let me focus the glasses myself; for
all I could see was a blur of pale phallic shapes, like
a forest composed of the stalks of horrifically magnified
fungi. But before I could say a word, he snatched back
the glasses to look at some strange objects flying over us
at tremendous speed——they were driven by nuclear power,
he informed me, and carried the very latest type of
bomb, guaranteed to devastate ten cities at least he
sounded as proud as though he were the inventor. With
a high-pitched shrieking, the ominous hird—shadows
swooped after one another across the deck; and after-
wards it was odd to hear the quiet natural sound of
water slapping against the hull. The boat was now
hardly moving, and I asked why we had stopped.

“To let the port authorities come aboard, of course"
I could tell from his voice, and the brisk way he slipped
the strap over his head, keeping the binoculars to him-
self, that, after his expansive moment he had reverted to
his usual superior. almost scornful attitude, even before
he added, “You don’t suppose a ship of this size can be
berthed as easily as you'd tie up a rowing-boat, do you?”

Without answering, I moved off to the starboard side
of the deck, having had more than enough of his con-
temptuous condescending ways on the voyage. But then
I called out, in spite of myself, “Here they come!" in
sudden excitement at the sight of a launch, flying the
city’s flag, bouncing over the waves towards a rope
ladder that had been let down from the deck below.

The Student came hurrying as it he were as excited as
I was, and leaned so far over the rail that the field-
glasses dangled away from his body in mid-air. There
was some slight delay in bringing the launch alongside,
as it first overshot the mark, and, instead of backing, had
to be brought round again in a wide sweep. Then a
sailor in uniform grasped the ladder and held it steady,
while a file of men in dark clothes emerged from the
cabin like beetles coming out of a hole in the ground,
and began climbing awkwardly up the unstable rungs,
one after the other, each helped aboard by a hand
belonging; to some unseen person, when he reached the
deck.

As far as I could make out from my forcshortened
view, the officials were a remarkably unprepossessing
gang, and I said laughingly, “What a tough — looking lot! ”

Giving my arm a quick painful twist, The Student
hissed, “shut up! " into my ear, as if afraid my comment
might be overheard which was impossible, since the
wind must have blown my words away from the new
arrivals. It could only have been pure chance that made
the last otf them glance up at us balefully as he got to
the top of the ladder. Perfectly satisfied that I couldn't
be heard, as I rubbed my arm, I said to the man beside
me, “I suppose you're getting your hand in for dealing‘
with them - they look as if they’d only understand
violence."

I quite expected him to try to get hold of me again;
in fact, I was already preparing for flight. But he said
quite seriously, “Don’t be a fool. It's dangerous to say
things like that even in fun.”

Though half my attention was given to watching the
launch curve away, spouting a double plume of spray
from the bows, I thought his remark sounded strange
after the way he’d been praising everything to do with
the place, and asked, “Isn’t one allowed to criticize
people, then, in your wonder—city?"

“That's not the point," he snapped, fidgetting almost
nervously with the strap of his glasses, while the cargo
boat started to crawl forward at less than half speed.
"I'm only trying to warn you for your own good. You
can’t be too careful at the start. One single mistake now
might wreck your whole future here. Why, I've heard of
people being refused admittance, and even sent to The
Lanes on grounds of that sort.” And with this he walked
briskly along the deck and disappeared from my sight,
taking no notice when I called out, "What sort?" and
leaving me thoroughly ruystificd by his change of front.

I would have liked to ask him what and where The
Lanes were; but I wasn't going to run after him; and,
anyway, he did not seem very reliable as a source of
information, praising the city one minute, and implying
dreadful things about it the next. How could he be so
inconsistent? But perhaps he was only trying to frighten
me——-as he might very well have succeeded in doing, had
I been, as he thought, a lonely boy, arriving here unpro-
tected. As it was, his words must have affected me, since
I felt the need to console myself by thinking, “He little
knows 've got an important relation to back me up."

I couldn't have explained, even to myself, why I'd said
nothing about my uncle to anyone on the ship; indeed,
I was extremely puzzled by this unusual reticence, not
being at all secretive by nature. Perhaps my dislike of
the Students constant bragging had kept me silent. At
any rate, I now derived some satisfaction from the idea
that he would be sorry he’d slighted me when he saw
that I was welcomed by so influential a person as the
Permanent Chief Cybernetics Consultant, for this was
my uncle's title, though I didn't know what a Permanent
Chief Cybernetics Consultant, was.

Creeping forward, the boat had already progressed
some distance into the wide harbour; the tall warehouses
fringing the water were close enough to exclude partially
the view of the mighty towers beyond, which became
correspondingly less overwhelming: Now it was possible,
not to ignore them, for I was all the time conscious of
their remote awe-inspiring presence in the background,
but at least to give my surface attention to things nearer
at hand. Bothering no more about my travelling
companion or his contradictions, I went to the port rail and
stared intently at the wharf we were approaching.

Would my uncle be there to meet me? In the one and
only letter I’d had from him, he had said he would come
to the docks to see me through any difficulties that might
arise. But it seemed to me that a man so important, with
so many urgent affairs on his hands, might easily let the
detail of an unknown nephew's arrival slip out of his
mind. This possibility did not perturb me; I had a small
sum of money which I supposed would be enough to
take me to his address. In a way, I rather hoped he
would not appear, so that I could prove my ability to
deal with these difficulties, whatever they were, unaided;
even at the cost of sacrificing my moment of triumph
over the Student.

Down on the wharf, I noticed, remarkably little in-
terest was being displayed in our arrival; there was some-
thing almost furtive about the way the ship was creeping
in, almost unobserved. Presumably because there was so
little ocean traffic these days, the whole huge area of the
docksseemed quite deserted. All was emptiness, desola-
tion, except in this one spot, where the doors of a great
warehouse were being hoisted laboriously, and with awk-
ward slowness, by a number of men who did not seem
to be ordinary labourers - though what gave me this
impression was hard to say, unless it was a certain sort
of sickly refinement in their looks and motions, for the
drab working clothes they all wore might well have been
dockers’ overalls.

The enormous sheet of metal was finally rolled up, to
reveal a little group of people standing further back, as
if in the mouth of a dark cave, from which they peered
dimly upwards and out at the ship, without attempting
to come any closer to it. “Can he be one of those?” I
asked myself doubtfully, staring at the indistinct forms,
which, at this distance, scented as undifferentiated as a
crowd of orientals.

“That's my uncle,” I suddenly decided, as an impres-
sive figure stepped out in front of the rest, waved towards
me and shouted some incomprehensible words, and then
vanished again into the dark cavern behind. But though
I stayed for some time watching the point where he had
disappeared, he did not come back; and it seemed less
and less likely that this could really have been the man
I was expecting, who would surely have waited for the
gangway to be let down.

How was I going to recognize him finally, when we
did meet? The only clue I had to his appearance was an
old snapshot my mother had taken of him on horseback,
years ago; and even this wasn’t much use, as I had always
been more interested in the horse than the rider-—-of
whom I retained only a faint memory of curly fair hair
and very white teeth; of rather old-fashioned good—looks,
in the musical comedy style. None of this was at all like
my idea of how a Permanent Chief Cybernetics Consul-
tant should look. By this time, of course, he would have
changed completely. I tried first to picture a typical rich
uncle, a jovial fat man who would slap me on the back
and call me “young fellow"; then one of those grey—faced
millionaires with stomach ulcers and several telephones
permanently in the background. Neither fitted the indi-
vidual I’d just seen, who had looked remarkably vigor-
ous, tall and upright, though I hadn’t been able to see
his face. True, he had shouted something, and waved.
But there was no reason to believe he had shouted to
me. And he might equally well have been waving to one
of the ship’s officers, a party of whom, I had just noticed,
had gathered on the bridge, directly over my head.

“Have you seen somebody you know down there?”

The voice startled me; I wasn’t too pleased to see the
Student, whom I'd quite forgotten, watching me with an
expression of keen interest and curiosity. Though it
would have been easy to say, “I thought I saw my uncle
who promised to meet me," I was reluctant to speak the
words. Not having mentioned an uncle before, it now
seemed too late to do so; and, anyway, what business was
it of his? As it happened, I didn't have to answer at all,
for just then the third officer stepped from the compan-
ionway, calling our names, and telling us the authorities
were now waiting in the saloon.

“Yes, of course . . . at once . A . coming, coming,“
the Student replied in his self-important way, as if I had
suddenly ceased to exist, following the third officer off
the deck.

I saw that the group on the bridge had gone below
too. It would certainly be a few minutes before I was
wanted in the saloon, so, with tl1e rather pleasant sensa-
tion of having the deck to myself, I stayed where I was
gazing down at the roof of the warehouse, on which a
number of large black-backed gulls were perched, at
regular intervals, facing into the wind, motionless, as if
they had been stuffed, or a part of the decorative scheme
of the port. Absolutely bare, neat and unused looking,
like a tidied-up excavated remnant of antiquity, the
docks seemed to have been cleared and preserved as
relics of a past era; no sign of life anywhere.

Even among the small concentration of people inside
the warehouse, there was no stir, no movement of any
description. Exhausted, apparently, by their labours, the
men who had opened the doors were stretched out full
length on the stone paving, where they must have been
singularly uncomfortable, exposed to the full force of
the wind, which, like a spiteful dog, was worrying at
their distinctive clothing‘ It was evidently some sort of
uniform they were wearing, impossible to mistake for
ordinary clothes, though they were too far off for me to
see what precisely the difference was. Their difficulty in
opening the heavy door was explained now, for I could
see that some of them were quite old men, and that all
seemed of poor physique. For some reason, the sight of
them fascinated me and at the same time made me
faintly uneasy. In looking at them, I was aware of a
troubled sensation, rather like the feeling I had experi-
enced when once, during a holiday abroad with my
parents, I'd seen a gang of chained convicts at work,
watched by armed guards.

I could hardly tear my eyes away from them to look at
the group of indefinite figures, huddled like sheep in the
dark entrance; if the one I had thought was my uncle
had ever been among them, he seemed to have vanished
for good.

“VVho do you think you are, keeping us all waiting?
Don’t' you realize you’re holding up the whole ship?"

At the angry shout I spun round in alarm, to meet the
seowling gaze of the third officer, who had evidently been
sent to fetch me, though he looked as if he’d have
preferred to sling me overboard. I ran to meet him,
apologizing profusely, but he refused to be placated,
dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder and ordering me
to keep moving—I couldn't do anything else, while he
pushed me along. I was surprised by his bad temper, as
he'd always been jolly before, one of the gayest people on
board keeping the junior officers’ table in continual fits
of laughter. Now his morose expression was incompre-
hensible to me, until I noticed the thick scarf round his
neck which gave me the idea one side of his face looked
swollen, as if with toothache.

“But how queer and changeable everyone seems today."
The thought went through my head, while I was glancing
over the rail for the last time, seeing that the ship was
about to be made fast. A group of the sickly looking
workers was dragging a monstrous hawser to an equally
enormous winch, though they didn’t look as if they had
enough strength among the lot of them to attach one to
the other. I’d have liked to watch how they got on. But
my relentless escort marched me below, never lifting his
hand from my shoulder, as if I were under arrest.

Outside the saloon I made a stand, protesting against,
having to appear before the authorities in the humilia-
ting role of prisoner.

“You should have thoughtof that sooner," was the
only answer I got, and next moment was thrust through
the door.

Now I was surprised again, this time by changes in the
room, where most of the furniture had been pushed back
and several tables placed end to end in the middle,
covered with wiles, notebooks, stacks of papers, tape
recorders, telephones with wires trailing out of the port-
holes, and other objects I didn't recognize, so that the
saloon had assumed the look of an office or minor court
room. At the centre tables, the men I had watched
coming aboard sat in a row, official badges prominently
displayed on their lapels, an open space left, like a
witness stand, on the other side. The Captain, the mate,
and the chief engineer, their uniforms speckless and
newly pressed, each wearing a decoration or two, sat
stillly in positions of comparative unimportancc at the
side of the room; my bewilderment was increased by
seeing these hitherto all-powerful figures suddenly so
demoted.

The Student I couldn’t see at all. But then, while I
was excusing myself to the company by saying I had
thought they would deal with him first, I caught sight of
him in an obscure place near the door, intent on some
pencil notes he was making in a small book. He glanced
up at the sound of his name, but without giving me any
sign of recognition - which I would have welcomed, at
this moment, even from him, the grave faces of all
present, plus the disposition of the furniture, having
given an air of oppressive formality to the occasion and
returned immediately to his notes.

The three central oflicials seemed more important than
the rest, and now the thinnest of them said, “The last
shall be first"; or did he say, “The least" . . ? It seemed
meant as a joke, anyhow, and I smiled, grateful for this
lightening of the atmosphere. But at the same time he
bent over a cigarette he was lighting, hiding his face; so
I got no response from him either.

A big heavy-jowled man in the middle was in charge of
the proceedings, and now told me to sit down, a diamond
on his little linger emitting a dazzling flash as he indi-
cated a chair that stood by itself in front of the tables.
The third officer had all this time been standing at my
elbow; but, as if this were the sign for his escort duty to
end, he immediately crossed the room and stationed him-
self in front of the door, as if to prevent anyone from
entering or leaving. I wondered why everybody looked
so grim and solemn. The Undergraduate, I knew, had
never liked being associated with me. But why should
the Captain, in whose care I had been travelling for
days, and who'd always had a kind word or a joke for
me, now wear such a blank look on his red round
weatherbeaten face, almost as if he didn't know who I
was? But it occurred to me at this point that I’d better
keep my eyes to the front, instead of letting them wander
all round the room.

The big man asked for my passport, which I produced
at once, glad I had remembered not to leave it in my
cabin. I knew it was perfectly in order so, having handed
it over, I sat back to wait confidently, convinced that
the formalities would be brief and soon ended. I expected
to get the document back in a minute. But, though most
of its pages were blank, this did not deter the official
from going through them with the utmost care, scrutin-
izing every stamp and visa, periodically flattening the
stiff cover under his fleshy hand, on which the diamond
glittered ferociously. It looked a very valuable diamond
to me - how could a man in his relatively unimportant
position afford such a stone? It was a melancholy reflex-
ion that, during the whole of his army career, my father
had never earned enough money to buy my mother so
fine a jewel. To me, of course,  the passport was upside-
down but I knew by heart, the few stamps marking
holidays when I had been taken abroad; and, now that:
I'd started to think about my parents, the memory of
those lost happy days brought a lump into my throat.

Fortunately, the big man asked me no questions,
merely swivelling his huge head slowly round to his
neighbours to point out something and whisper, first to
one then to the other - which so surprised me that I
forgot my sadness. What on earth could he find to
whisper about in my passport? His thick fingers, from
the backs of which black hairs were sprouting, deftly
flipped over the pages, fiery flashes darting from the ring,
on which I fixed my eyes. Time seemed to have stopped.
The officials whispered together. The ring flashed. Out-
side, an occasional shout could be heard, at the meaning
of which I tried unsuccesfully to guess. Everything
seemed to be getting dim and far off as it does when one
is on the verge of falling asleep.

It was just as well that the sharp clatter oi a type-
writer made me jumnp and collect myself, for at last the
chief snapped shut my passport, for which I streched
out my hand. However, he did not return It, even now,
but, instead. brought down his own hand heavily on the
cover keeping it on the table in front of him, while he
told me to state my reasons for coming here.

Now I was in a quandary. It was not that the question
was unexpected, for the Captain had prepared me for it,
kindly suggesting some suitable phrases, and even being
good enough to rehearse them with me. At that time,
preoccupied with all the novelty and excitement of life
on board ship, l‘d hardly given a thought to the coming
formalities; it was only during the last few minutes that
the solemn atmosphere had given me the idea that
serious consequences could result from this interview.
I was now longing for it to end;and somehow I needed
to know by intuition that the best way to settle things
satisfactorily would be to speak of my uncle. But I Could
not do this without revealing what seemed to be my
duplicity to the Captain and everyone else on board. I
felt guilty at the mere thought of this kindly man giving
up his precious time to coaching me; I could not possibly
let him know that there had really been no need for
him to take all that trouble.

Accordingly, I began to recite the sentences I had
memorized with him about the universal esteem in which
the institutions of the High City were held, though ]
found it hard to keep my mind on the subject, because
of the noise of the typewriter, that went on at the same
time. It was particularly annoying that the noise was
not continuous, I would gradually raise my voice to
compete with it; then it would stop all of a sudden,
leaving me shouting in a ridiculous manner. I struggled
on, feeling" I was doing so for the Captain's sake while
the officials watched me with blank faces, and I won-
dered whether they understood a word.

Out of gratitude to my teacher, I was anxious to
prove that I had learned the speech thoroughly; so I
went on to say that this was known as the only place in
the world where ideals survived, not as abstractions,
but as working‘ principles. Meanwhile a second, and a
third, typewriter had started up; in sudden indignation
I asked if we could not have a minute's quiet while I
finished speaking.

“VVe’d never get through our work at that rate," said
the thin man, who seemed better disposed towards me
than the others.
Just as I was about to point out that, I would only
take up a tow more seconds of their time, the last of the trio, 
who had not yet spoken remarked in a virulent tone, 
"If you ask me, we've heard more than enough already - we don't Want a whole lecture."
“And what does it all amount to? the chief weighed 
in heavily; "a lot of highflown stuff he's learnt like a
parrot, that doesn’t even make sense."
“That's not fair!" I burst out, exasperated by such
injustice. “You asked me a question——I cant answer it
without speaking, can I? As for not making sense, how
do you expect me to concentrate on what I'm saying
with so much row going on? I can't even hear myself think -I believe you’re deliberately making things difficultfor me - it's too bad!" In my anger at being called a parrot, I jumped up and banged my fist on the table whereupon a steward I hadn't even notice rushed forward with outstretched arms, as if to force 
my chair—to save him the trouble, I sat down again as calmly as I could, realizing that I ought to have controlled my temper.  

The big man was scowling at me, and growling, "keep quiet there!"
While the third member of the trio, who seemed to have taken an acute dislike to me, stuck out his chin so far that it turned quite white, saying, " I suppose you think you know more about the city than we do, huh?" 

“Oh dear," I thought, “Now Ive really put them all
against me.” And I wondered whether I was being
foolish in not mentioning my uncle. I was strongly
tempted to do so when the Captain, who was the innocent ccause of my predicament, leaned forward and, in a hasty anxious 
undertone I could scarcely hear, reminded me that I was still only a boy and a strangerhere, and warned me not to become aggressive, which would only make things worse for me. But when, turning to the officials, he asked them, in a louder and
firmer voice, to take my youth and inexperience into
consideration, he was silenced by an imperious wave
of the hand, which sent a flash like lightning across the
room, and the words, “We don't need any advice from
you, thanks," uttered so insultingly that I was immediately 
on his side. I gave him a long look, which I hoped
would show him how I syinpathised with his equivocal
position, no longer master aboard his own ship, but
ignoniiniously forced to submit to these bullying brutes
of officials. After seeing him humiliated like this, I felt
quite unable to speak the words that would, I was
convinced, get me out of all my difficulties. How could
I further wound this good man by showing that, in me,
he had befriended It dishonest trickster, who was per-
fectly well able to enter the High City without his help?

If only I had been truthful and straightforward about
my uncle from the beginning, I was gloomily thinking,
while l answered various questions that struck me as
futile and idiotic, such as, could I read and write? Had
I ever been confined in an asylum? But it was too late
for regrets; regrets wouldn’L help me new.

It was hard indeed to refrain from mentioning my
uncle's name and status when I was asked how I inten~
ded to support myself here. I could only try to bluff
my way out, by replying, “As you’ve heard from the
Captain, and as my passport will tell you, if your own
eyes don t,I'm still only a boy. First of all, I'v got to finish my education."
"So you've come 6here to finish your education". The big man pulled a pad towards him with a tremendous flash of his ring, and made a note. "And of course, you've got sufficient funds at your disposal?" There was a heavy sarcasm in the last words, which he accompanied by significant sidelong glances at his two colleagues.

Now I would not have minded the noise of a dozen typewriters to distract attention from myself, as I sat in silence, unable to think of any adequate answer. But the saloon had become quiet as the grave, not even a fly buzzed, one could hear only the wind outside, driving the water in whispering ripples against the hull; the shouts had ceased altogether, and I wondered vaguely what could be happening on the wharf. It was almost a relief when 
the chief spoke again, although it was only to say ominously, ‘
"Are we interfer,then, that you have not got the money?"

He reminded me of our old tomcat at home,waiting to pounce on some wretched mouse, as he eyed me with an almost greedy smile,
eveidently thinking he'd now really got me where he wanted me. With the same expression - as I still had nothing to say - he gave the man who disliked me so much another meaningful smiling glance, which the latter returned with gusto, delighted to see me being driven into a corner. At the same time, the thin one, who was directly opposite me, leaned forward and spoke, almost like a ventriloquist, out of the side of his mouth, hardly moving his lips, so that afterwards he did not seem to have been the one
who'd said, “Of course. if you could name somebody
here who would sponsor you, everything would be all
right.”

Exactly as on the former occasion, he had started to
light a cigarette, his head bent over the match, which
he held cupped in both hands, as if he were out in the
wind, and the words had nothing to do with him. “But l
think I can trust him," I said to myself. “He’s the only
person in the room who isn't altogether against, me."

It really only seemed to come home to me at this
moment that I was alone aiiiorig all these hostile people.
Even the Captain no longer dared to give me a reassuring
look, but sat mute and effaced, staring down at his
boots with a glum expression, as if he thought it was all
up with me. The Student was still busy with his note
book, in which he was no doubt writing down all my
mistakes, so that he could avoid making them, when his
turn came. The ship’s officers looked bored and impa-
tient, as if none of this concerned them and they re-
sented being kept away from their proper duties. Some
how or other, every single one of them had been alien-
ated, made antagonistic to me -but how? When?

Where did I go wrong? Up to now, I'd always got along
pretty well with people without thinking about it; how
bad I made such a. bad impression on everybody here?
lt seemed rather frightening, and also confusing and
sad, that one could make enemies, as it were, by mistake,
and without even knowing it.
While I was thinking along these lines, the big man
was collecting the various papers to do with my case
and as it it were already disposed of stacking them in a pile 
the diamond all the time shooting out vicious rays.
Last of all, he picked up my passport, for which I again 
innocently put out my hand, only to see it sent skimming away from me by a flick of his thick wrist, towards
a subordinate  who caught it as neatly as though he spent
his time doing nothing else and holding it between his thumb and first finger dropped it into a metal basket like a dead rat. 

I was horrified by this outrageous action, having
always been taught that a passport was sacrosant, an
object of universal respect, which must never on any
account leave the owners possession.  "Give it back!" 
I've demanded furiously, jumping up again. "You've no right to
take my passeport!" Then, feeling I would never see it again unless I rescued it immediately and that my position, in any case, could hardly be made worse, I lunged wildly across the the table, hoping to get hold of the basket, which - needless to say - was snatched out of my reach. I had already noticet the steward
who had threatened to interfere with me before darting towards me again, and now, before I could straighten up, he took advantage of the way I was sprawling over the table, seized both my arms, and pinioned them securely behind my back.

This was too much. Thingshad gone too far now for me to go on considering the Captain, who,in any case seemed to have abandoned me to my fate. The time had come for me to save myself by whatever means I could: to escape at all costs from the stewards hateful grasp.
"Take your dirty hands off me at oncel" I shouted,
quite beside myself. “Or my uncle, the Permanent Chief
Cybernetics Consultant, will make things hot for you!"
I caught sight of the man's face, as, very much taken
aback, obviously, by this unexpected explosion on my
part, he released me immediately——out of sheer astoni
-shment,  believe. But I was too astonished myself by
the sensation I had caused to think any more about him
Everyone in the room was staring at me now with
varying looks of interest, amazement, incredulity, dis-
belief.

"Did you say the Permanent Chief Cybernetics Consultant 
was your uncle?" the chief asked, in quite a different tone,
My "yes" was so quiet I seemed not to want him to
hear. And, in fact, I did feel all of a sudden strangely
despondent and wished I had not had to mention my
relative, tough I did not recognize it then, I think
waht I experienced was a sort of foreboding, as if, in
the city of life, I'd just entered a dark street, which, up
to the previous moment. I could have avoided, but to
which I was now committed, and must‘ follow to its remote and dubious termination in the mists of the future. 
"I shouldnt have brought him into it, however
bad things were getting" was what I thought. “I ought
to have seen this through on my own account."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" the big‘ man inter-
rupted my obscure musings. But there seemed no need
to reply, for he instantly resumed his muttered conference
with the other two, continually swivellinng his great
head from side to side to address them in animated
though inaudible tones. I was surprised by my excitement
aroused among the minor officials, those at the
ends of the tables leaning far forward, or standing up,
in their eagerness to catch the words of the central trio.
One man, wearing a green eyevshade, had even left his
place to stand just behind them - they seemed too
absorbed to notice his presence - his arms wide apart
and his hands grasping the backs of the two outer chairs,
as he stooped lower and lower, his mouth open in a
caricature of amazement at these new developments.

The ships'officers too were now taking an interest,
murmuring among themselves, and watching the pro-
ceedings closely. The Captain, I was glad to see, looked
relieved, and I managed to catch his eye and give him a
long steady grave look and a nod, as 1'nuch as to say I
would explain everything later to his satisfaction. Even
the third officer, though he could not desert his post at
the door, eraned forward so as not to miss what was
going on.

In the midst of this general stir, from which I myself
seemed oddly excluded, I was straightening my clothes,
which the stewards rough handling had disarranged,
when I felt someone touch my arm. The Undergraduate
had crossed the room and was trying to attract my
attention, whispering. "Is your uncle really the Per-
manent Chief Cybernetics Consultant?” And I impati-
ently answered, “Of course he is; I thought I saw him
down on the dock."

“Will you do me a favour then?" he went on, so
softly that I could only just, hear. "Please ask him to
put in a word for me . . . It wouldn’t be any trouble
for him, and it might make all the difference to my case

You've seen for yourself that things aren’t too easy
here... Why, even you had a certain amount of difficulty to contend with at first ... And it will be far harder for me
with no influential backing ..."

Of all the surprising things that had happened, this seemed the 
most unlikely. I could hardly believe that the Student had now
actually asked for my help; remembering how scornfully he had treated me in the past, I did not feel very inclined to give it, and said, "I don't see how my uncle can be expected to do anything
for a person he's never seen or heard of". But helooked so 
disappointed and downcast that I had not the heart to leave it at
that, adding reluclantly, "Though I'll mention to him, if it means such a lot to you."
"Thanks most awfully! I knew you wouldn't let me down!" He said 
this in what I suppose was meant for a heartfelt tone, though I thought it sounded horribly flase and gushing. How could he have the nerve to rush up and start asking favours the minute he thought my position was assured, after pretending not to know me
as long as I was in trouble?

“What makes you so sure things will be all right for
me anyhow ?" I grumbled crossly but he waved the
objection away as if it were not worth a moment's con-
sideration; and moving on, past me, went right up to the tables, where he confronted the three officials, who interrupted their muttered conference to look at him in surprise. They can't  have been half as surprised  as I was the next moment : I had the remotest idea what he meant to do : I got quite a shock when I heard him exclaiming:
“Gentlemen! Perhaps you don't know that the Permanent Chief Cybernetics Consultant is down on the
dock now, and must be wondering what's delaying‘ his
nephew."

“No, no! ” I almost shouted, springing forward, ready
to put my hand over his month if he said any more,
speaking in my indignation, as I would have done had
we been alone. “What are you butting in for? You know
nothing about it! Why Can’t you mind your own 
business?” I'd have liked to say a good deal more; but now
I had to explain to the astonished officials that I was far
from certain I had seen my uncle from the deck. Some
one had waved, as I thought, to me; but afterwards he
had disappeared again, so perhaps I'd been wrong and
it was all a mistake. If I had stopped to think, I would
have realized how unconvincing and lame this must
sound; but my mind was not on What I was saying; I
was too annoyed and embarrassed by the Student's
behaviour. While I was speaking, he had carried out a
strategic retreat to his place by the door, so that I could
only glare at him across the room——a nice mess he’d
let me in for by his interference.

The chief, naturally, seized upon this opportunity of
renewing his attack, turning down the ends of his mouth
so far that it looked like the top half of a circle in his
hostile suspicious face. “First he's here; then he’s not
here," he sneered. “First he's down on the dock then
you’re not sure~—perhaps you’ve made a mistake. Are
you quite sure your uncle is the Permanent Chief
Cybernetics Consultant? Perhaps you’ve made a mistake
about that too. VVhat proof have you got to show us?"

Folding his arms, he tilted his chair on to its back legs,
and balanced there with the air of having scored a
crushing point against me.

“I'm not such a fool as to lie about something you can
so easily check," I retorted. But, although I tried to look
confident and contemptuous, I really felt worried; how
did one set about proving things of this kind? Of course
I had my uncle’s letter but it was merely signed with his
name, there wasn't a word on the paper to show that he
had anything to do with Cybernetics at all, far less that
he was t.he P.C.C.C., as I abbreviated it in my thoughts.
My dealings with the world had not been very extensive;
to a great extent I had been shielded from its distrustful
atmosphere; and I had not provided myself with proof
of my uncle’s identity. “Does everybody here assume
people are lying until they prove that: they're speaking
the truth?" I asked, anxious not to appear a simpleton
in the future. I really wanted the information; but, to
judge from his face, the big man found my question
provokingr—probably it was lucky for me that a diversion
occurred just then.

Steps and voices could be heard in the passage outside
the door, where someone seemed to be trying to get into
the room, while another person prevented him, for there
were confused scuflling sounds, followed by a loud and
prolonged knocking.

“Who's there?" called the Captain, in his commanding
voice that could surnmount wind and waves, starting up
in his chair, and automatically taking the lead at a
moment of surprise and crisis.

“The Permanent Chief Cybernetics Consultant!” came
the reply, in a voice no less authoritative, impatient, but
dignified; the assured voice of a good—natured man
accustomed to power and to prompt obedience.

With his hand on the latch, the third officer was
glancing doubtfully from the Captain to the official who
had temporarily usurped his position, as if he did not
know whose orders to take. Then, as no one counter—
manded the latter’s, “Let the Permanent Chief Cyber-
netics Consultant in at once!” he opened the door, at
which everybody, myself included, was fixedly staring.

Goodhumouredly pushing aside one of the junior
officers, who promptly fled, vanishing along the passage,
a tall well~dressed man entered, and instantly dominated
the room, even before he had spoken a word.

“It's the man I saw on the wharf, there's no doubt
about that," I told myself but whether he was really
my uncle seemed far less certain. For one thing, he
looked too young, younger than either of my parents,
though I had always understood he was my mother's
elder brother.

But the newcomer was already saying, “So you're my
new nephew—splendid!” and striding straight up to me
without the least hesitation. Taking not the slightest
notice of anyone else, he warmly shook my hand and
patted me on the shoulder (showing, I thought, a delicate
appreciation of my feelings in not attempting a more
intimate embrace); then, before I had time to speak,
swung round to shake hands with the Captain, whom
he appeared to know, and who had come forward to
meet him.

Next it was the turn of the officials, who had been
thrown into evident confusion by his arrival, though he
wished them good day quite aflably, standing in front
of the tables, on to which he casually dropped his hat,
among all the papers, showing not the faintest respect
for those piles of documents, as he stood there, snapping
the catch of a gold lighter, a big cigar in his mouth.
He was such a tall, fine looking man, with his wide
shoulders, his keen intelligent face, his thick curly hair,
which looked lightly powdered, that the ship's saloon -
it had never seemed small to me before appeared
scarcely large enough to contain his imposing presence.
Now that I'd had a good look at him, I realized that the
impression he made was not so much youthful as ageless,
as if he had always been, and would always be, precisely
as he was now, at the heiglit of all his mental and
physical powers. It crossed my mind, I remember and I
thought it odd at such a moment that he was the exact
opposite in every way of the feeble looking workers I had
seen on the dock; while he appeared to be of a different
and superior race to these bullying port authorities -
no wonder they all crumpled up before him.

Looking clumsy and gross by comparison, their chief
had begun, although no one so far had blamed him for
anything, what seemed to me a long rambling incompre-
hensible speech in his own defence; which my uncle
interrupted, as soon as his cigar was alight, by asking in
a brisk breezy fashion.

“What’s going on here, anyway? I expected to meet
my nephew on dry landfif I hadn't had to make an
important phone call lid have come aboard long ago
to collect him."

He found time, as he spoke, to turn his head rapidly
and give me a most unexpected and singularly engaging
smile and a wink, as though there were already some
private understanding between us. And this was so
altogether delightful and reassuring to me that I at once
felt strongly attracted to him, and some lingering residue
of apprehension disappeared from my mind. Reinforced
by the charm of that smiling look, I could watch with amusement the deflation of the big man, who, visibly
anxious and sweating, was replying apologetically that
these formalities took some time. It was really laughable
to see how he’d suddenly changed and lost his bullying
assurance, without which he was no better than a punc-
tured balloon, while his subordinates appeared to be
almost cringing.

“Formalities!" My uncle repeated the word with
supreme contempt. “Your formalities can hardly apply
to my nephew, I presume?" 

I was puzzled by his tone of voice. Nor did I under-
stand why, in view of the questioning they had just been
putting me through, the men at the tables, who'd
suddenly grown so humble, all seemed to find the
suggestion ridiculous, showing an almost servile eager
ness to agree that it was absurd to associate me with
formalities, twisting their faces into unnatural grins, as
though so preposterous an idea were extremely funny.
I could hardly believe my eyes, seeing the group of
blustering bullies, with unknown powers overmy fate,
abruptly transformed into this row of obseqiiious clowns,
whose ingratiating looks seemed meant to curry favour
with me all of It sudden. And yet the man responsible
for this astounding change showed no sign of either
anger or arrogance, but seemed to be smiling at them
almost benevolently, as if their antics amused him.

He was still smiling as he drawled arniably, “All the
same, I believe I'll just: give the Control a ring: I’m
sure they'd be interested to hear about this," stretching
out his hand as he spoke for the telephone.

I could see that, above all things, the chief dreaded
the sending of any such message to this mysterious Con-
trol, for, with a look of panic, he hastily drew the
instrument towards himself and kept his fist clamped
upon it the whole time he was pouring out a perfect
flood of protestations, pleadings, assurances; from which
I could only assume that he had somehow put himself
in the wrong, and was terrified of the consequences. I
began to feel almost sorry for the contemptible creature,
so abject were his apologies for some mistake “that never
ought to have happened"; until he antagonized me
again by having the effrontery to say in an almost
grovelling tone, "I’m sure this young man has no ill-
feelings about our little misunderstanding . . ."

With the memory of his triumphant: gloating over me
fresh in my mind, I was thoroughly disgiisted by this
display of fawning dishonesty, to which I remained
coldly unresponsive, merely asking, “What about my
passport?" meaning to draw my uncle’s attention to the
way it had been dishonoured. But someone had already
retrieved it from that disgraceful basket; and now it.
appeared as if by magic in the coarse hairy hand across
the table, on which the diamond seemed to shine now
with greatly diminished lustre.

“Suppose I look after that for you?” I heard, just as
1 reached out for the precious document; which, after
all, I did not receive into my own hands —i nstead, almost
before I realized what was happening, it was transfered
to my uncle's white well—shaped hand, and then to one
of his pockets.

I could not help feeling disappointed,though I knew
he had acted with the best intentions, probably afraid I
might drop it or leave it behind in the excitement of
arrival. Perhaps he even thought it was my fault the
officials had got, hold of it - a possibility I disliked so
much that I wanted to explain exactly what had taken
place, I could not hear him to get the idea I was a child,
unable to take care of my own possessions: hadn’t. I kept
the passport sale throughout the voyage, ever since
leaving home? 

But he spoke first, saying to me, “Shall we go?" just
as if we had been equals and old friends, smiling at me
with such magical charm that I was captivated all over
again and forgot everything but the pleasure of walking
beside him and feeling his hand on my shoulder, lightly
guiding me to the door. The knowledge that, under his
guardianship, I was about to become a citizen of the
miraculous sky-town that was a legend all over the
world, filled me with excited anticipation, and I moved
as in a happy dream.

I only came down to earth again when I found myself
looking straight at the Student, who, not unnaturally,
had ggiven up all hope of any assistance from me, to
judge from the way he was watching our departure in a
dejected pose. Either because I was so happy, or ashamed
of my forgetfulness, I now felt friendly and sympathetic
towards him, instead of angry. It no longer seemed that
lied been deliberately making trouble for me by his
interference but on the contrary, that he had meant to
help me, thinking I was too shy or too slow to speak up
for myself.

By stopping, I had already brought my Companion to
a standstill; unless he had stopped to speak to the
Captain, who was approaching him on the other side.
But I was concerned only with my obligation to the
young man I had so nearly abandoned. Without a
thought for the Captain, I began, in a low voice, to
explain the situation to my uncle, and to beg him to put
things right. 

But somehow I seemed unable to hold his attention,
though he stooped down, bending his head as though he
could hardly hear me, which was quite likely, as I was
a most whispering, and, in my haste and urgency, could
not get the words out fast enough. I wished I had been
speaking in a louder tone, when the Captain, with no
idea he was interrupting, asked some question which of
course had to be answered after which he was given a
cigar. By the time the lighting up business was over, my
uncle had forgotten what: I had been talking about, so
I had to start my request all over again.

To break away from his hand would, I felt, be fatal.
I wished the Student would come closer, so that I could.
make him understand I was trying to help, for he seemed
convinced I still bore him a grudge, keeping some dis-
tance away, and giving me only occasional gloomy re-
proachful glances. As I could think of no way of
communication with him, I could only hope he would
observe my earnest concentration, and draw the right
conclusion. Before I had succeeded in making myself
understood, however, I heard him called up to the
tables, turned my head, and stopped in mid-sentence.

I don't know what I can have expected to see for the
sight of them all sitting there in their places, exactly as
they had been when I first came in, to give me such a
shock. Now I felt I must, have imagined that extra-
ordinary glimpse of them as a row of obsequious clowns.
When I surveyed their cold hard indiflerent faces, some
iininistakably brutal, corrupt or sadistic, all of them
tough and selfsatisfied, it seemed incredible that they
should ever have looked any different. But that I should
have imagined the transformation was more incredible
still. A very odd sensation came to me now, and made
me wonder whether I was awake or asleep at this very
moment. I felt isolated from the group at the tables, as
if an invisible partition now separated the part of the
room where I stood with my uncle from the rest. Where
should I have been safer than standing so near him? Yet
all round me was a vague Fear of I knew not what.

My existence so far had been simple, safe and straight-
forward; happily sheltered within the frame of family
life I had walked among realities that were plain and
open for all to see. Now, suddenly and most disconcer~
tingly, the ground under my feet seemed to have shifted,
everything appeared doubtful and untrustworthy, reality
all at once showed a blank face, ready to assume any
number of different masks. The winding, weaving smoke
of my uncle's cigar perhaps had something to do with my
strange sense of no longer knowing whether I was awake
or dreaming, or whom to trust. His kindness, and the
brutality of the officials, seemed to run into a smoky
blur where they became interchangeable, liable to
change places at any moment; all I asked of that smoky
uncertainty was to be able to leave it, and to return to
my own solid world again.

Though he was talking to the Captain, the tall man
whose hand still rested on my shoulder seemed to know
that I was disturbed, for, without a break in what he
was saying he moved in order to put his arm right
round me, drawing me closer to him in a movement that
protective and almost caressing - I gladly submitted
to it, though, in the ordinary way, I would have considered myself far too grown up for such childish treat—
ment. It reassured me now, and I felt betray at Once.

I now got the idea that it was the Student's dangerous
position I had been worried about; those horrible men
were bound to revenge themselves against him because
they had been made to look small. Peering round, I
tried to see what was going on at the officials‘ end of the
room, but the Captain, massive as a rock, blocked my
view.

There was hardly any time left, 1 suddenly realized.
It was now absolutely imperative that my uncle should
speak to the port authorities. Overwhelmed by a sudden
sense of urgency. I broke into his conversation, begging
hint to listen to me and tugging his sleeve in my effort
to gain his attention. I

But luck was against me. The ship's bell, which had
all along been audible at intervals, marking‘ the passage
of time, was heard again now. In a momentary silence,
its note, though subdued by the intervening doors and
bulkheads, sounded oddly compelling, peremptory; I was
not really surprised that distracted by it, he took no
notice of me, but said to the Captain,
“We must be off — we’ve taken up far too much of your
time already,” hurriedly shaking his hand and thanking
him for looking after me on the voyage. And to me he
said, “Come along," starting once more to urge me
towards the door. It was now quite impossible to get him
to listen to a single word I said. “Later. Later," he kept
repeating good-humouredly. “You can tell me in the
car."

"But, then it will be too late!” I cried, in despair.
Finding myself at the point of being' pushed out of the
room, I determined not to leave without making a final
stand, and threw my whole weight against him, holding
him back, as I implored him to intercede for the
Student. I felt, quite desperate when I knew he still had
not understood, hearing him say laughingly over my
head.

“Look what a loyal recruit you've got here, Captain!
You'd better sign him on as cabin boy since he refuses
to leave the ship."

But the other man appeared to look upon my reluc-
tance to go as an insult to the speaker, for he told me
sharply to pull myself together, unaware of the motive
for my behaviour, which must have seemed irritating
and foolish. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are?" he
asked, coming a step nearer to me. Then I heard no
more, for now I could see the Student. sitting down
lugubriously in my chair in front of the tables, and
twisting his head to look round reproachfully at me out
of dark doleful eyes.

Yet it didn't seem to be entirely on his account that I
now suddenly burst into tears which so scandalized the
Captain that he exclaimed, aghast, “What! A great boy
like you crying?” no doubt disapproving of my tears as
a direct affront to my influential relative; who, however,
said gently,
“It’s the excitement, I expect,” very considerately
pressing his handkerchief into my hand, as I couldn’t
find mine, and again earning my gratitude by his tinder-
standing.

The Captain too was much relieved at being provided
with this more or less acceptable explanation of my
infantile behaviour, repeating, “Yes, the excitement’s
been too much for him, that's what it is,” as thankfully
as if he'd discovered its cause himself, patting me on the
back encouragingly, since I was too distraught even to
say goodbye.

l was vaguely aware of significant glances exchanged
above me, of the Captain saluting, while my uncle called,
“Goodbye, goodbye!” for us both, airily waving his hat
in one hand, while he used the other to propel me
through the door, which the third officer was holding
open. With a sound of finality it shut behind us, shutting
us out, alone together, in the quiet deserted passage
which no longer seemed to bear any relation to the
narrow swaying passage along which I had precariously
made my way, clinging to the handrail as the ship rolled,
during the course of the voyage. Now it was as steady
and impersonal as any hotel passage on shore. Though
I strained my ears to listen, not a sound was to be heard
from the other side of the heavy well—fitting door of the
saloon. Suddenly, it almost seemed as if I had imagined
it all, and there never had been a Student, or any
officials, or tables covered with papers and all at once I
began to sob uncontrollably, without really knowing
why.

My companion said not a word, but put his arm round
me again and started to lead me along; and, in this
fashion, silent except for my noisy sobbing, we went up
on deck together and down the gangway, I almost
carried by that powerful arm, against which I leaned
passively, seeing nothing at all. Without its support I
should certainly have stumbled and fallen, it seemed to
lift, rather than guide, me, past or over the various
obstacles one‘s feet always encounter on shipboard,
and down the steeply sloping gangway. I felt as if a
tremendous wind had swept me up, helpless, and were
blowing me along, having first blown away all my
memories, thoughts and will power. And it was no un—
pleasant thing to be abandoned utterly to this mighty
wind, to let it take possession of me and relieve me of
responsibility for myself.

But then, after the days at sea, the sensation of walk-
ing on solid ground was so remarkable that I began to
recover and look about me. We were quite close to the
open door ot the warehouse, where the people I had
seen from the deck still stood patiently waiting, as if
some invisible barrier prevented them from advancing.
My eyes were blurred by tears, I could not see them at
all distinctly, but I was surprised by the humility with
which those nearest drew back as we passed, as if to give
us more room when there was plenty of space already,
turning away, or hiding their faces, though they gazed
after us with what seemed admiring respect. I would
have liked to ask questions about them. But I still was
not entirely in command of myself; besides, my uncle
was evidently in a great hurry, sweeping me along with
him at such a pace that I could hardly get my breath
back after my fit of crying. He still kept his arm round
me, either to hurry me on, or because he was afraid I
might relapse into childish weeping and I was glad of
it if only for its warmth, as, strange to say, it seemed
much colder here than it had on the ship.

I understood the reason for the fall in temperature
when I saw that the sun was not shining any longer; or
rather, that it was not shining on us, though its beams
still sparkled on the little waves of the harbour, only at
few yards away. At first I thought we must be in the
shadow of the great buildings; but, looking up, I dis-
covered that: we had come under the edge of that strange
cloudraft I had seen from the boat, suspended above
the whole city’s groundwork like a grey roof. It had a
peculiarly chilling, depressing effect, and, even on its
outer border, where we were, still with the strong wind
blowing off the sea, scented to exude a sort of dank
heaviness, that made me think how I should hate to live
under it further in - the recollection of those crevicelike
streets and tunnels of which I'd caught sight, returned,
like the memory of a nightmare, bringing back my
distress.

I was greatly relieved when we entered an imposing
structure, with the city emblems and the word CUSTOMS
engraved over the doorway, where both my spirits and
the atmosphere immediately became lighter, as if the air
here had been freed from oppressiveness for the benefit
of new arrivals—it was hardly to be wondered at if the
purifying process had been allowed to lapse outside on
the dock, when so few travellers came by sea.

Like the port as a whole, the great customs hall was
deserted, my two suitcases looked insignificant and lost
on one of the long bare counters, a solitary oflicial in
uniform standing beside them. I’d had enough experi-
ence of foreign travel to expect a specially thorough
examination as there was no other luggage. To my
amazement, however, the man did not even ask whether
I had anything to declare, but, saluting, scrawled 	
chalk mark on both bags, picked up one in each hand,
and followed us humbly to the doors at the other end
of the hall, towards which my uncle was already con
ducting me.

“He must be a terribly important person," I thought,
glancing up at the tall figure beside me, uncertain
whether the idea was pleasing or the reverse.

How remote and severe he looked now—what had
become of the charm and good-humour that, on board
ship, had made him seem so amiable and well—disposed
towards everyone? It suddenly struck me that he hadn't
spoken a word since we’d come ashore, and though I
attributed his silence to impatience and preoccupation,
I began to feel slightly nervous. But if I had offended
him, surely he would not have kept his arm round me all
the time? Or was this solely a precaution on his part, to
prevent me from disgracing him again; perhaps by run-
ning back to the Captain?

Though, of course this was the last, thing I had thought
of doing, I involuntarily looked over my shoulder. The
doors by which we had just entered were now in the act
of closing, shutting out the inconspicuous, rather shabby
steamer which had carried me faithfully across so many
thousands of miles of ocean. I felt a sudden nostalgic
sadness, knowing that I had seen it for the very last time
but resolutely shook oil the feeling, telling myself it was
too absurd to be worrying about an old cargo boat, when
I was standing literally at the gates of the most wonder~
ful city the world had ever known.

Intricately carved in an elaborate design, these gates
towered up from the floor to the lofty ceiling; I watched
the customs man open a small door in one of them,
deposit my cases outside, make a sign to some unseen
person, and then return to confront me. “Young sir," he
said gravely, “you are about to enjoy the greatest experi
ence of a lifetime; I congratulate you on your good
fortune.”

I was rather embarrassed by the formal speech, until
I saw that no answer was expected, and that it seemed
meant as a sort of compliment to my companion. Next
moment. I had forgotten it, anyhow, entirely absorbed in
staring at the enormous car that slid silently to the door
in response to the signal. Never had I set eyes on so
magnificent a vehicle; a long black curving cylinder,
shining like onyx, from the tapered nose of which
polished coils of some bright metal protruded like rup—
tured entrails of the machine. Before I could take it all
in, a chautfeur opened the door at the back, and my
uncle hustled me into the car as if there were not a
second to lose.

I had not time even to glance about me; I must have
felt, rather than seen, the curious cloud -roof, the oppres-
sive ellect of which was more noticeable here, away from
the waterfront, where the wind blew less strongly. All
the windows of the car being partially screened, I could
see. Very little of the outside world once I was in it. Only
while the chauffeur was spreacling a rug over our knees,
I got a chance to peer out and investigate the cause of
a sudden commotion near by.

In the deserted street, from which even the customs
man had already vanished, several small boys had ap-
peared from nowhere, and were quarrelling violently
over my luggage, all trying to get possession of the cases,
almost tearing them apart. Since they were the first
inhabitants of the city of approximately my own age I
had seen, I gazed at them with particular interest,
observing that they were all dressed alike, in neat service
able drab clothes that suggested the uniform of an
institution. What was startling and even shocking about
them was their common emaciation (they might all have
been in the last stages of some wasting disease), and the
unrestrained savagery of the vicious blows that they
now inflicted on one another, which looked as if they
must snap their sticklike limbs. It was a marvel to me
that they had the strength to fight; surely they were
bound to do serious harm to themselves-—not to mention
my luggage; I fully expected to see the cases fly open
and my belongings strewn all over the street. Why did
not somebody stop them? They couldn’t be as lierce as
they looked, I decided, as neitl1er of the two men took
any notice of what was happening. And, as if to confirm
this the light stopped as soon as the driver turned
round, and they brought. him the bags between them
and then withdrew hastily to a little distance, flattening
themselves against the blank wall behind as if trying to
disappear. I noticed, though, that, while the cases were
being stowed away. they kept glancing in our direction
with expectant looks on their faces, which-pallid and
wizened-—seemed to belong to dwarfs or little old men
rather than to boys of about my age.

A glance passed between my uncle and the chauffeur,
who took out of his pocket a handful of small change,
which he flung carelessly towards the group, so that
money went rolling all over the empty street. Immedi—
ately afterwards, the car shot forward like a projectile.
I barely had time to peep under the blind at the scrim-
mage, seeing each by trying to snatch coins from his
companions, and one boy, smaller than the rest, who
hadn't got hold of a single coin, raining indiscriminate
blows on them all, tears streaming over his face. I felt
quite sorry for him, sure he would never manage to get
his share, and for an instant almost, wished I could go
back to see fair play.

I suppose because of the similarity of their apparent
ill—health (and I fancied, too, the men had worn this
drah depressing distinctive dress), the sight of these boys
had the same strange effect on me as the sight of the
dock workers had, earlier on. It was not only that I felt 
sorry for them, though I did identify myself with them
in some way; but they also aroused in me an almost
nightmare feeling, like dread, making me disturbed and
uneasy, without knowing why. 

But now the boys had been left far behind, we were in
another street, and travelling at what seemed to me a
terrific and dangerous speed. I did not see how anyone
who happened to get in the way would stand a chance
of survival, and glanced nervously at my uncle. But he
maintained his unaccountable, and, as I feared, ominous,
silence, leaning on an arm—rest, his face overshadowed by
his coat collar, so that I could not see its expression.
Dismayed by the change in his attitude, in my perturbed
state of mind, I wanted to draw his attention to myself,
or he seemed to have forgotten that I was there. But,
not daring to disturb him, I concentrated instead on
trying to look on t, though, what, with the speed and the
half—drawn blinds I could see Very little.

The chauffeur drove the whole time at the same fan
tastic speed, which added to my inner tension the sugges-
tion of flight, as if we were escaping in extreme fear
from some peril which had already driven everybody
else off the streets. Though once I though I caught sight
of an open space filled with a mass of indistinct people,
whose identical motions had the homogeousness of a
single movement, the glimpse was gone in a flash, and I
decided it had probably been an illusion. Our speed
reduced the buildings on either side to a blank contin-
uous wall streaming past without detail. I could make
out no more than if we'd been in a tunnel; as we might
have been, judging by the curious resonance that accom-
panied us, the height of the walls and the narrowness of
the street creating a sort of sounding-box where the
engine noise vibrated with a hollow drumming. Gradu-
ally, as I watched the endless reel of blankness unroll, I
began to feel dizzy. And now I forgot. all more obscure
problems, entirely absorbed in my unpleasant. physical
sensations and the need to control them; for,to add to
the offence of crying the equally childish disgrace of
becoming car—sick was something I must: avoid at all
costs. I was almost glad of this preoccupation, disagree-
able though it was in itself, for, without it, my tears
would very likely have started to flow again, as my spirits
had sunk down to their lowest ebb.

Suddenly emerging from the dully echoing tunnel, the
car seemed to leap up on to a great thoroughfare of
immense width, and, to my unspeakable relief, to slow
down to a more moderate pace and a steadier motion,
At the same time, an intense, almost blinding brilliance
made me blink and turn aside my eyes, so that I was
already looking towards my uncle when he exclaimed in
the genial voice I had heard at first,
“Well, that’s better, isn't it?"

While I looked at him doubtfully, not knowing
whether to trust this sudden reappearance of friendliness, 
he was leaning forward, rapidly snapping up the
blinds and opening the windows, letting a strong current
of pure invigorating air blow through the ear, of which
he seemed in need as much as I was, for I noticed that
he took deep eager breaths of it. Only now, when this
tonic air blew away my incipient nausea and muddled
feelings, did I begin to understand that he must have
been sullering some severe disability or discomfort under
the roof of cloud we had just left behind, and this was
the simple explanation of his silence and inattention.

Having made an instantaneous recovery, he was
watching me with kindly concern, telling me I would be
all right now, smiling warmly, and linking his arm with
mine, as if to assure me that he really was here beside
me again and on the best of terms. “You’ll soon feel
better than you've ever felt in your life," he was saying.
“Up here one can really breathe."

I was recovering almost as quickly as he, for it was
impossible not to derive immediate benefit from breath~
ing that sparkling delicious air—even purer and more
bracing than that of the alps—peculiar to the High
City, and one of the secrets of the miraculous good
health of those lucky enough to live there.

“Now you can really see your new home," I heard:
but was quite unable to listen, already staring up,
fascinated, shading my eyes with my hand, at the stupen~
dous shapes loominig right overhead, filling the sky with
their grandeur and their multitudinous windows, which
emitted blinding flashes as they reflected the brilliant
sunshine.

I had been deeply impressed, from my very first sight
of them on the ship by the strange majesty of the great
buildings; and how much more overwhelming they now
appeared, so close above me. No film or photograph
had given me any idea of their inspiring magnificence
and stark beauty. But all was blurred, indistinct, to my
eyes, dazzled by so much brightness, and unused to this
rarefied atmosphere where the sun shone with peculiar
power. In all the dazzle, I could only vaguely make out
the vast breadth of the raised highway, sweeping on like
a giant never-ending suspension-bridge, with side roads
arching out gracefully at intervals, rising or falling in
airy spirals and curves. Even when my uncle produced
a pair of dark glasses for me, saying that new comers
often had to use them for a few days, I still could not see
things in any detail. All my senses were disorientated, my
vision constantly assailed by the brilliant rays, like flights
of burning arrows, darting at me, from the millions of
blazing windows, from the soaring spans of bright metal,
from the elongated gleaming bodies of the cars hurtling
past, and from countless glittering objects of all descrip-
tions, everywhere catching the sun. Slightly dazed by so
many marvels, each more wonderful than the last, I
didn't know where to look lirst, continually turning my
head and craning my neck, trying not to miss anything,
until I was quite bemused.

“Wonderful . . . marvellous... " was all I could
find to say: while some inner voice seemed to protest,
"Too big . . . too bright . . . too wonderful . .  as
though grandeur on such a colossal scale were rather
alarming.

When I happened to look down, I was astonished to
see, far below, a shifting shimmering sea of cloud, a
radiant carpet of ever-changing colours, spreading
between the towers, this, it suddenly struck me, must
be the other side of that weird immovable cloud-roof
which had looked so unnatural from the boat, and
covered the streets beneath with such a stifling miasmic
effect. Suddenly I remembered the boys with their old
men's Faces, ligliting over my luggage - how  did they,
and the feeble dock workers, fit into this awe-inspiring,
breathtaking scene?

There seemed to be some fearful discrepancy here,
which was frightening. I knew I ought to feel proud and
uplifted at this moment of my arrival; but, instead, I
felt a pang of apprehension so deep that, while it lasted,
I did not want to go any further into this marvellous
city. Too bright and splendid to belong to the common
world, it reminded me of the make-believe castles and
fortresses I used to see in the summer clouds, lying on
my back in a haylield, staring up at those slowly dissolv-
ing shapes until the solid earth seemed to melt away,
less real than my wonderland in the sky. But those
fabulous halls and palaces had always been, finally,
under my own control; I had always known I was free
to leave them whenever I liked, for the more comfortable
solid world of home and teatime and familiar faces:
whereas now . . .

I found I was actually wishing myself back on the old
cargo boat, my last link with home, and the happy past
that had ceased to be. By unescapable association, the
wish evoked the Student’s reproachful face; which had
no sooner appeared before my mind's eye than it van-
ished, merging with the face of the weeping‘ boy who
had got, no coin; which also disappeared, in its turn. I
was left with the queer impression that something was
shutting these pictures away from me, as the carpet of
softly glowing cloud shut out the streets lower down.
The elusive faces, and the whole complex of circum-
stances connected with them, seemed to have been lifted
out of my memory in some incomprehensible way. I did
not like it at all; but I could not resist the process going
on in my head, where a selective hand seemed to be
sorting out the contents, and confiscating some of them.
I looked appealingly at the man beside me, as if he
might be able to stop this unnatural interference.His
expression could not have been kinder or more en courag-
ing. But it was difficult to put into words what was
happening, and, in the end I said nothing. Not because I
didn't still feel uneasy, but because I now felt that, at
any moment, my memories would be restored to me,
clear and complete again, after their temporary confiscation.

Before this had happened, however, my uncle began,
in a soothing reassuring voice, telling me not to worry
about things that: might seem strange now, but. would
become quite simple and clear as soon as I had settled
down. I was entering a new world, I must rernember;
things were bound to be very different from what they
had been at horne — I couldn’t possibly understand every»
thing at once. But it would be a good thing for me to
have this novelty to take my mind off the past, as too
much brooding was useless to anyone. As far as he was
concerned, happiness was to come out of sorrow, for,
having no family of his own, he proposed to treat me as
a son, and to bestow on me all the advantages of the
finest education on earth. But I wasn’t to think about
studying yet; first I must take my time getting to know
him and my new surroundings. “You needn’t, be afraid
of feeling homesick," he finished, “even though it will
all be strange to you. All minds are in harmony here
and, provided you cooperate with us, I promise you'll
feel quite at home, right from the start.

I had been growing more and more at ease all the
time he’d been talking, my unclear apprehensions melt-
ing away, and now his last words reassured me com-
pletely, It was the greatest relief to know no more would
be expected of me than cooperation, for of course 1 was
eager to cooperate in every way. Now I could lean back.
relaxed and peaceful, against the arm he had slipped
round me, filled with gratitude and allection, and an
almost blissful sense of security, such as I had not known
since the accident: that had destroyed, with the car and
its occupants, the whole pattern of my childhood.

All at once now, I found the disaster set at a distance
from me. By his words and presence, my uncle had contrived 
to change it from an appalling immediate nightmare
into a past event I could contemplate with a calm
sadness, instead of a wild resurgence of desperate grief.
By conveying to me the idea that mourning must have
an end, and that mine had already run its full term, he
had freed me from the horror of the fatal crash, which,
ever since I first heard of it, had been haunting my
dreams and imagination to an extent I only realized
now, when it ceased to do so. I suddenly saw the past as
a gloomy landscape I was leaving behind, turning to life
and light. It was time, he said, for me to start being
happy again.

And he set the example himself, becoming a gay,
charming companion, laughing and talking and pointing
out the various sights as we drove along I could not
have resisted him in this mood, even had I wished to.

 mother, I thought, would surely be glad to know I
was safe in the care of her favourite brother; and the
white flash of his smile reminding me of the old photo,
I told him about it. It was touching to see his pleasure
at hearing how the ancient snapshot had been treasured;
he must have been very fond of his sister for I heard
him muttering to himself, “If only I hadn't put off my
visit..." which surprised me, as I had never been told
he was thinking of coming to see us.

But all my thoughts were taken up by gratitude to
him which passed all expression; I inwardly dedicated
my whole future to him, resolved never to disappoint
pun in any way. If I had been a little older, I might
have wondered how such it sudden sympathy could unite
me to a man who had been a total stranger an hour ago.

But it was enough for me then that he seemed to have
opened the door to happiness and security for me, I felt
deeply bound to him only thinking how I must make
myself worthy oi his great kindness.

Now it was really as if there never had been a Student
at all - no sick-looking boys or workers, no under-city.
All had gone from my memory, hidden behind the
splendid figure at my side, which filled the world to the
exclusion of everything else.

Under these happy. auspices I entered the High City,
at which I  gazed out in eager wonder, too joyful, excited
and trusting to be intimated by the mighty presences
in the sky, with all their countless window—eyes watching,
1 long I was always conscious of them standing solemnly
up above, silent inscrutable witnesses of my arrival.


VVhich side were they on? What did they stand for?
To this day I don’t know how to regard those arguseyed
onlookers whose mysterious watchfulness often caused
me an obscure uneasiness my companions seemed not to
feel, though, in all other respects, I believed I was like
them; my uncle's prognostication fulfilled, I was at
home, simply, taking all my fabulous privileges for
granted, never dreaming they could suddenly he snatched
from me.

Perhaps my uneasy awareness was a sign of suppressed
guilt, for, in spite oi: the curious blocking of certain
memories at first, I never entirely forgot what I had seen
on the day I arrived, or my niidisehargerl oltligation to
my fellow--traveller. As time passed, and I never saw or
heard anything of the Student. the idea he had put into
my head enierged as a suspicion that he must have been
refused admittance to the High City and relegated to
the Lanes, For which, to some extent‘, I could be held
responsil)le, for failing‘ to interest my uncle in him. But
I believed then that‘, in deliberately putting him out of
my mind, I was obeying the laws those great sky-presences symbolized.

Only since being evicted myself in a manner as
arbitrary as it was ruthless and unexpected from the
place I had learned to call home, have I begun to grasp
that, in my ignorance of what ideology the great build-
iitgs represent, I am as likely to have been condemned
For forgetting him, as because I did not forget absolutely.

Neither is there any way of knowing whether my
blind childish devotion to my uncle counted against me
more or less than the estrangement that, as I grew older,
came about between us, so gradually and imperceptibly
that I wasn t even aware of it until the very last.

I simply assumed that the growing demands of his
work prevented him, by the time I was going to college,
from seeing me oftener than once a day for a few
minutes each morning, after which he would drive out
of my life tor another twenty—four hours; and might have
driven his great car to Mars for all I knew of him in the
interval.
I was doing well at my studies, and I remember how
surprised and bewildered I was to get the impression
that he was less than satisfied, even disappointed, in me,
as if I had failed somehow to come up to his expectations.
But, when I tried to discuss this with him, I only
became embarrassed and tongue—tied, and ended by 
saying nothing. It was as though, having‘ lost the easy
natural attitude I had had as a boy, I was incapable of
replacing It by a more adult relationship, or of doing
anything to improve the situation, which already seemed
to have gone too far, or gone too long for me to
be able to handle it. b
Perhaps I appeared too spoiled and lazy to make the
effort of seeking him out, or of trying to establish a
closer intimacy but this wasn't quite the truth - or not all of it. I was certainly deeply troubled about the whole thing
and baffled by it And it would have been easy
pr him to put me at case so that I started talking; and
then everything would have come pouring out with
perfect. sincerity or so I believed; though I can’t be
sure any longer, since I did not take the chance he
finally offered me.

I happened to be going out that evening to a sort of
students‘cafe, of which, for some reason, I felt certain
he would disapprove. It crossed my mind, when, taking
me altogether by surprise by his unexpected appearance,
he asked ifl couldn’t for once spend the evening with
him, that he must have got to hear that I was frequent
ing the place, and meant: to stop me going there any
more, although he said nothing to substantiate this.

As soon as I started out, I wanted to go back to him,
troubled and perplexed by my own ungraciousness. His
face, as I had last seen it, had looked unexpectedly sad;
but, at the same time. I seemed to have detected there
a certain sternness I had never noticed before. which
added to my disturbed state of mind. I could not rid
thyself of an irrational sense of something irrevocable
having occurred, I kept telling myself I would apologize
in the morning. Yet I felt very strongly that I really
ought to go back now, and make some kind of desperate
effort to save the situation. VVould I have stood a chance
of success, I wonder, even at this late stage? At least
then I would not have had to reproach myself with not
having tried, I still don't understand why, instead of
obeying the impulse, I hurried on, as if running away
from all my muddled, unhappy feelings, so that I got
to the meeting place far too early.

Simply to fill in time till my friends arrived, I wan—
dered out on to one of the great garden terraces in the
glow of the sunset. I could not have quite lost my
original interest in the inhabitants of the Lanes even
then; for the only thing I noticed, through all my pre-
occupations, was an old gardener, wearing their 
distinctive dress, who melted away when I appeared - as these
people always did if t.hey worked among us, so that we
seldom saw them; though whether they had orders to
vanish, or did so spontaneously, we were not informed.
Forgetting the old fellow at once, 1 went to lean on the
parapet. which was a habit of mine, gazing down
absently, as on other occasions I had often watched, half-
incrcdulously, [or one of those breaks said to occur at
intervals in the eloudfloor, uncertain whether I really
believed in them or not, since nobody I knew had ever
seen one. My present thoughts were far removed from
the subject: I was deciding that, when I saw my uncle
in the morning, I would tell him frankly about my visits
to the cafe, and promise not: to come here again——it
would be no hardship, [or the prospect of the evening
before me was becoming increasingly distasteful, so that.
when the time came, I turned reluctantly to go and meet
my friends.

So far, this part of the terrace had been deserted; but
now I saw a woman strolling towards me with a little
girl, and used their arrival as an excuse to linger
exchanging a few casual remarks. Only a vague impulse oi
friendliness towards tl1e child made me look down at the
cloud again, as she was doing: at this precise moment.
the rosy, rippling reflection of sunset Iaded, and it began
to evaporate, as a rainbow does when it touches the crest
of a wave, dissolving into a spray of nothing. just. for
an instant then, the lingo pedestals supporting the city
became visible, pierced by a maze of dark narrow lanes,
before the cloud reconstructed its barrier, so swiftly that
the glimpse seemed a hallucination. But there was no-
thing unreal to me about the shock of seeing again those
labyrinthine ways, crawling, this time, with darker
shapes, as if a giant, spider's web were outspread there
below, insects thick on every filament; it left me with a
feeling I had not known since 1 had been living‘ here—
of dread, almost of terror.

Dimly, I was aware of the child’s excited questions.
And next I found myself listening eagerly, as to the
voice of an oracle, to the woman's comfortable assurance
that, though, in a sense. the Lane dwellers were human
beings, they were not in the least like ourselves, and
could live down there quite happily: in fact, they
couldu’t really live anywhere else, the Lanes being their
true environment, outside which they might not; even
survive very long, and certainly could never feel at home.
It was the usual formula I'd heard and accepted hundred 
of times; but now it had no power to console or
convince me. While the child, completely satisfied.
danced off gaily, her mother Following, I stayed who ‘e I
was, frozen as in a nightmare, memories I had suppre ‘ed
for years flickcring over the etlge of my consciousnt

Automatically, my eyes followed the two departing
figures: I did not notice until they had passed out of
sight that the old gardener had returned, unobserved by
any of us, and was standing quite close, where he must
have heard all the woman said: though I was the one he
was staring at, with a strange fixed look I couldn't
understand. There was something‘ so odd about him
altogether, it was so unlike a Lane dweller to approach
anyone who belonged to the High City, instead of
hiding, that I looked at him more attentively. And now
I saw that I had been mistaken in thinking him old;
he. was perhaps not much older than I was myself: some
thing more violent than the mere passage of years —
something drastic as a surgical procedure - had flayed
from his face the distinguishing traits of youth.

I could see this, as he was so near me, although the
sun had set, and dusk was already blurring the sharp
outlines of the tops of the giant buildings; of which I
suddenly became intensely aware, perceiving them as a
chill thickening of the air overhead, as window after
window opened a cold cat's eye to watch me with that
atte-ntion I often found disturbing. All at once, those
frigid golden eyes seemed to express condemnation, as if
at this moment my fate had been decided, when the
Hoodlights came on, illuminating the flowering trees all
around me.

Now for the first time I was made conscious of these
great masses of blossom, which themselves seemed to
radiate light, as if the snowvwhite drifts and dense
clusters of coloured petals had suddenly become lun1in~
ous. In the midst of this flowery profusion, iiicougruouslv
surrounded by wreaths and garlands, the face of the man
from the Lanes, violated and bare, glistened as if it had
broken out in a sudden sweat, while his unwavering
eyes remained fixed upon me in a dark dolelul look of
reproach, that suddenly, horrifyingly, seemed familiar.

Shall I know him again, when We meet, as we must
do one day, groping in these dark tunnels, from which,
all the year round, dampness sweats? For him to recog-
nize me, remembering me as I was then, is hardly to he
expected.

Great changes take place when one goes to live in the
Lanes; changes so profound and fanrcaching that, in a
short time, one’s whole appearance becomes quite dilIer—
ent; and when the body changes, thought changes its
pattern too What surprises me is the flexibility of the
human material, which, once having enjoyed the
spacious freedom of sunshine and pure air above, can
be compressed to fit the mould of existence in these
cracks and catacombs, tunnelled through the rocklike
plinths of the high buildings. Without extensive modifi-
cation, no organism accustomed to the brilliant, bracing
atmosphere of the High City could survive our condi—
tionsgthe dark, the perennial huinidity4iinder the
clammy ceiling of cloud. The arduous process of acclima~
tization, requiring a vast expenditure of effort and
energy. leaves its outward mark in the typical emaciation
and weakness of those who live here, their faces wasted
by total discouragement, rather than by sickness or pre
mature old age; and inwardly in an apathetic pessimistic
attitude, the rapid growth of which I have observed in
myself.

When I first came, I was convinced that I had been
the victim of a miscarriage of justice, which must, be as
obvious to other people as it was to me. I wrote a great
many letters in those days, to my uncle, to my professors
and tutors, in the certainty that there had been some
ghastly mistake, which must be rectified as soon as I got
a hearing. I began by being angry and puzzled by the
lack of response; but I soon found these feelings chang-
ing to anxiety and alarm, the tone of my letters becoming
less indignant and more beseeching, and realized that
the atmosphere was already affecting me.

My uncle’s silence was particularly difficult to under-
stand; but it was nnthin kable, after all his kindness, that
he should intend to abandon me to such a fate. I could
only suppose that: he was leaving me here for a while
deliberately. to teach me to appreciate all I had formerly
taken for granted. Determined in future to do my utmost
to establish a real companionship with him. I longed
impatiently to start making up for my deficiencies in the
past, and went about for days imagining scenes of
reconciliation, in which I won back his confidence, and
proved the depth and sincerity of my own feelings.

But all such fantasies were ended abruptly by a note
from his office. signed by one of the junior clerks there.
curtly requesting me to stop annoying‘ the Permanent
Chief Cybernetics Consultant and his friends, and accom—
panied by a bulky package, containing all the letters I
had written, returned unopened.

Now I was at last forced to realize my true position.
east oil‘ finally and forever by the man who had been
closest to me. and I at once lost hope, and was over
wlielmed by despair. Yet it was not long since I‘d had a
reputation for tackling difficulties for the sheer pleasure
of overcoming them, and would have fought injustice
to my last breath. And that injustice had been done was
as true now as before; ungrateful and selfish I was,
admittedly, but not deserving of so fearful a punishment.
But the situation now appeared utterly hopeless; since
I had seen that I might. as well have posted my letters
into the void, it seemed futile to put up any sort of light.

Again and again I had written, demanding justice;
and a dead silence had been my only answer. From
demands and protests I had descended to pleading, to
humble prayers; and still the same stony silence had
answered me. More than any other single factor, this
implacable inhuman silence was responsible for my des-
pair; not only was it the crnellest blow and the deepest
humiliation, making nothing of me, but also the most
impassable of all barriers, which I could never surmount.

Forgotten as if I had never existed. without even a
passport, all contacts broken irrevocably, how could I
attack an indifference so universal, so devastating and
so fatal to self—esteemP What was the good of an appeal.
which—if by some miracle it were heard at all~wou|d
still, of its very nature, he bound t:o fail? In my abysmal
discouragement, I no longer even thought it worthwhile
making the effort: to speak in my own defence, and, if I
had suddenly been confronted by at judge, I don't suppose 
I would have opened my mouth.

I wonder whether a single one of those I used to call
friends has ever so much as set eyes on my present abode.
or would recognize me today? To remember myself as I
was when I lived a hove in the light is like remembering
another person - some young relative, whose vitality and
good-fortune I enviously recall, wondering how I came
to lose touch with him so completely.

Was everything preordained from the beginning? Or.
if I had acted differently at. some point, would I now
still be living‘ in sunshine, not having had to endure all
these changes? Since my intentions and I always tried to conform 
to the city's code in the honest belief that this was expected
of me, why have I been condemned without right to a trial?
Is there anywhere in the whole world, anyone who might
take my side, and if so, how can I communicate with such
a person, or even find him?