Chapter IV

Rick Theron had never been away from the farms before in his life and his first sight of the shining city of Sanlou almost took his breath away and made him forget momentarily his hate and his resolution to defy the Machine. His longing for the fields and ranges, the patient cattle and green crops dimmed a trifle. He hadn’t known a city could be beautiful, too.

The plane dropped from the sky almost at the base of its outermost tall building. Only then was he aware that the Watch Police had been observing him closely for a long time.

The plane rolled to a stop.

“Okay. This is it, farmboy,” one of them said. “Let’s go in and get the manure cleaned off your feet for the last time.”

There was no clear impression of what followed immediately--a thousand blurred details of registration, identification, movement through pleasing corridors and rooms, a complete physical examination that included everything but a count of his body cells. Then, at the end of the day, a moment of rest in the chambers of the Orientation Officer to whom he had been assigned.

The man was tall, like Rick. He had lighter hair, but a countenance that was no less rugged, as if he knew what it was to work with his hands under the open sky.

“I’m Jackson,” he said. “Bernard Jackson. We’re going to work in pretty close association for the next few months, so we might as well take it as easy as possible. I know a few things about you, but I’d like to hear more. And then I’ll tell you anything you want to know about your position here. Fair enough?”

Rick found himself liking the man, just as he had the city, in spite of his determination to hate everything which had taken him from the farms.

But caution warned him against confiding fully in Jackson. He told the story of his life, briefly, confining himself to those aspects of it which the man must already know. He said nothing of Barie and his terrible disappointment in losing her.

Even this seemed to be known, however. “There was a girl, wasn’t there?” said Jackson. “A girl named Barie?”

Rick hesitated. “Yes--there was.”

“How do you feel about parting from her?”

He shrugged and then remembered Barie’s own words. “You can’t keep childhood forever.”

He repeated them, convinced that he was saying the right thing. The Orientation Officer nodded and smiled. “Sometimes we have a little trouble over such situations and corrective steps are necessary. Apparently none will be needed in your case.”

He looked directly at Rick.

“As to your own situation now the Machine has discovered an extraordinary combination of potential abilities in you, and has been able to match them in a very desirable counterpart with whom you will be paired.

“You must understand that we are not wholly unhuman and mechanical about all of this. You will be properly introduced and given adequate opportunity to become well acquainted. We have special areas set aside for these courtship preliminaries. Whenever you find it mutually agreeable an official sanction is given to your pairing and you are then ready for the next step of preparation for your place in our society. The getting acquainted period usually takes about two to three weeks.”

“What if it doesn’t become mutually agreeable?” Rick asked impulsively and wished immediately that he’d held his tongue.

Bernard Jackson was not disturbed by the question, however. He merely smiled. “That just doesn’t happen. The Machine doesn’t make mistakes.”

Rick managed to get a good night’s sleep in spite of the experiences of the day. A long time later he reminded himself that his ability to sleep had been a very fortunate thing, too--considering all that was to follow during the next twenty-four hours.

He was introduced to Deva Warel, the woman with whom he was scheduled to pair, at noon the following morning.

Bernard Jackson brought them together for lunch. She was seated at a table near the window of the dining room in the Orientation Building. With her was Jackson’s counterpart, a female Orientation Officer, who seemed unhappy about the whole arrangement.

Jackson pointed her out ahead of time, as they came into the room. “That’s her, sitting right over there,” he said.

Rick looked. For a moment he seemed to be staring at a small, golden sunburst. Then it turned into the reddest head of hair he had ever seen or imagined.

“That’s Deva? The one with the red hair?”

“In the flesh.”

He knew at once that the Machine’s traditional infallibility was sheer idiocy. This girl was as unlike Barie as it was possible for a woman to be, and on her face, as she caught sight of him and turned, was a look of total, unadulterated antagonism.

“She has the highest potential value of any Mech designer we have discovered for many years,” Jackson whispered as they approached. “So you see, you are being entrusted with a very valuable property,” he added, with a smile Rick didn’t understand at all.

Introductions were quickly completed. The name of Deva’s companion was Flora Johns. She nodded politely, but Deva was openly contemptuous. Inside himself, Rick felt like laughing. It occurred to him that the machine must give out a good many solutions that human beings found difficult to assimilate. This, certainly, was going to be one of the most indigestible on record. In a way, he and Deva were going to be partners after all.

As soon as the painful meal was over, Jackson cleared his throat. “I presume you have carefully explained the preliminaries to Miss Warel, Dr. Johns?”

“I’ve explained nothing!” the woman officer snapped. “Deva Warel states that she absolutely refuses to go through with this arrangement. She had already committed herself to a companion in the University.”

“That’s extremely unfortunate,” Bernard Jackson said. “However, in all fairness to my ward, I believe we should go ahead in conformity with established custom.”

“You young people,” he said, “will be assigned quarters in the orientation area. Every opportunity will be offered you to become acquainted and acquire mutual interests. Should this--ah, determination of Miss Warel’s not be overcome we shall consult the Machine for other arrangements. But let us have a fair trial and see what comes of it.”