Chapter 6 chapter Five
At eight o'clock it was getting dark, and the loudspeaker on the tower of the Stock Podge Club building began to announce the end of the game in a tenor voice that was beyond human.Lenina and Henry finished the game and went back to the club.The cry of thousands of cows can be heard from the pasture of the Endocrine Federation.Those livestock provided hormones and milk to the huge factory in Burnham Royal Forest as raw materials.
The twilight was filled with the staccato drone of helicopters.Every two and a half minutes bells and whistles announced the departure of a light monorail carrying lower-caste golfers back to the city from the various golf courses.
Lenina and Henry boarded the plane and set off.Henry slowed the rotation of the helicopter's propellers at an altitude of 800 meters, and the two of them hung for a minute or two over the fading landscape.The beech woods of Burnham stretched like a great black swamp toward the bright shore of the western sky.The afterglow of the sunset on the horizon is bright red, gradually turning orange and yellow upwards, until the pale lake green.Looking to the north, in the sky outside the forest, all the lights in the windows of the inner and outer secretory factory on the 20th floor were on, shining brightly with fiery electric light.Down below is the golf club building, the huge barracks of the lower castes.Beyond the wall are smaller buildings reserved for alphas and betas.The road to the monorail is black with ants of the lower castes.A train rolled brightly from under a glass archway into the open air.The eyes of the two followed the train across the dark plain, and were attracted by the majestic building of Yuxiu Crematorium.For the safety of flying at night, the four tall chimneys of the crematorium are illuminated with brilliant floodlights, and there are red police lights on the top, which are also mileage symbols.
"Why are there balconies around the chimney?" asked Lenina.
"Phosphorus recovery," said Henry curtly, "gases go through four different steps as they go up the chimney. Phosphorus pentoxide used to be lost in the incineration of human bodies; now ninety-eight percent of it can be recovered The dead body of an adult can be recovered to more than one and a half kilograms. In England alone, as much as 400 tons of phosphorus are recovered every year.” Henry said triumphantly, he was sincerely happy for this achievement, as if it was his own "It's nice to think that we can continue to contribute to society and help plants grow after we die."
Lenina was already looking away.She was overlooking the monorail station. "Yes," she agreed, "but here's the strange thing: Why don't the Alphas and Betas die with more trees than the lower-caste Gammas, Deltas, and Epsilons?"
"Physicochemically, human beings are created equal," Henry said aphorically, "and even Epsilon's contributions were necessary."
"Even Epsilon..." Lenina remembered something.She was a little girl then, still at school, waking up in the middle of the night, aware for the first time of the whispers that haunted her every time she fell asleep.She saw the moonlight, the row of little white beds; heard the soft whisper (the voice was still in her ears, after so many long nights of repetition, she had not forgotten it, and could not forget it).The whisper was saying, "Everybody works for everybody else. We can't do without somebody else. Even an Epsilon is useful, and we can't do without an Epsilon. Everyone works for every one of us." Some people work, we can't do without others..." Lenina remembered her first shock and surprise.She guessed for half an hour and couldn't sleep.Then, listening to the words that were repeated forever, her mind gradually became more comfortable, more comfortable, and calmer, so sleepiness came quietly.
"I guess epsilons don't really care about being an epsilon," she said aloud.
"Of course they don't. How could they care? They don't know what it's like to be other kinds of people. Of course we do, but we're conditioned differently, and genetics are fundamentally different."
"I'm glad it's not an Epsilon," said Lenina confidently.
"But if you're an Epsilon," Henry said, "your conditioning will make you thank Ford as much as if you were a beta or an alpha." The plane flew to London.Behind them, the crimson and orange in the west have faded, and the dark clouds have climbed to the zenith.Over the crematorium, the hot air rising from the tall chimneys lifted the plane until it entered the descending stream of cold air before suddenly sinking.
"What an interesting ups and downs!" Lenina smiled cheerfully.
But Henry's tone was almost melancholy for a moment. "Do you know what that ascension means?" he said. "It means that a person disappears at last, never to return, and rises in a puff of heat. If only one could know who it was, It's going to be interesting—it's a man, it's a woman, it's an Alpha, it's an Epsilon..." He sighed, then concluded in a resolutely jovial voice, "Anyway, one thing we can be sure of : No matter what he was originally, he was happy when he was alive. Everyone is happy now."
"Yes, everyone is happy now," repeated Lenina.They had heard it repeated a hundred and fifty times every night for twelve years.
Henry's apartment was in Westminster Abbey, with forty floors. They landed on the roof and walked straight to the restaurant.There they dined a fine meal with a boisterous and merry company.Soma was served with the coffee.Lenina took two and a half grams, Henry three.At nine-twenty the two of them crossed the street and came to the newly opened Westminster Cabaret.Fortunately, Lenina and Henry did not notice the depressing fact that there were hardly any clouds and no moon, just stars, for the sign of light in the sky effectively concealed the darkness beyond. "Calvin Stoop with sixteen hands." Huge letters glowed seductively on the new facade of Westminster Abbey: "London's best scent band playing the latest synthesized music."
The two entered.The smell of ambergris and sandalwood somehow made the air seem hot and stuffy.The shader painted a scene of an equatorial sunset on the vaulted ceiling of the lobby.Sixteen sex-wind players are playing an old favorite tune: "There is no such bottle in the whole world, which can compare with you, my dear little bottle." Four hundred couples danced on the smooth floor dancing five steps.Lenina and Henry immediately formed the four hundred and zero pair.Sessofeng whimpered, like cats meowing in harmony under the moonlight.The mezzo-soprano and tenor groaned, as if experiencing that little death.The trembling harmony of the two sides has rich harmony, gradually rising to a climax, rising higher and higher, higher and higher-finally, with a wave of the conductor, the last shattering celestial music softened, calling the sixteen An earthly trumpeter lost his soul.The roar of thunder in A-flat major, then gradually descends, gradually descending in a quarter scale, descending, almost without sound and light, descending into a very soft whisper-like main chord.The chords loop back and forth (the melody in four and five beats is still pulsating behind), endowing every second of drowsiness with strong anticipation.Finally, the hope was fulfilled, and suddenly there was a scene of the rising sun, and sixteen voices sang loudly at the same time:
When Lenina and Henry, with four hundred other couples, circled Westminster Abbey and danced the five-step dance, they also danced in another world--the warm, colorful, and loving world of Soma holidays. .How kind, how pretty, and how funny everyone was! "My bottle, the bottle I will always need..." But Lenina and Henry have got what they need... They are here and now in the bottle, in the safe bottle, where the spring breeze will always be , the sky is blue all year round.After sixteen exhaustedly put down the sensual wind, the synthetic stereo played the latest Malthusian blues, and at this time they were almost twin embryos, bobbing gently in the waves of the blood substitute in the bottle.
"Good night, dear friends. Good night, dear friends." The loudspeakers veiled their orders with a sweet politeness, "Good night, dear friends . . . "
Lenina and Henry left the building neatly with everyone.The gloomy stars had traveled a long way across the zenith, but although the screen in the sky had mostly disappeared, the two young men were still exulting, unaware of the approaching night.
The second dose of soma swallowed half an hour before the end of the ball had erected an impenetrable wall between the real world and them.The two walked across the street in the bottle, and took the elevator in the bottle to Henry's room on the twenty-eighth floor.However, despite being in the bottle and swallowing a second dose of soma, Lenina did not forget to take all the prescribed contraceptive preparations.Years of intensive sleep education, and Malthusian drills three times a week from the age of twelve to seventeen, have made such precautions as almost automatic as blinking, indispensable.
"Oh, that reminds me," said Lenina, returning from the bathroom, "Fanny Crown wanted to know where I got that lovely green faux-morocco medicine belt you gave me. "
Every other Thursday is Burna's Solidarity Sunday.Having had an early lunch at the Eros Hall (helmholtz had recently been elected to the governing committee under Article 2), Berner said goodbye to his friends, hailed a helicopter taxi from the roof, and ordered the pilot to Fortson Community Cabaret flew.After ascending about 200 meters, the plane turned to the east. When Berner turned the corner, the majestic cabaret building appeared in front of Berner's eyes.Illuminated by fiery white floodlights, the 320-meter-high man-made structure towers over Mount Lutheran.At the four corners of the helicopter platform of the building is a gigantic T-frame, glowing red against the night sky, and twenty-four golden trumpets whimpering solemnly synthesized music.
"Unfortunately, I'm late," Bernard said to himself as soon as he saw the big karaoke clock.Indeed, Big Henry was already ringing by the time he paid his taxi fare. "Fu," Admiralty's generous bass sang in unison, "Fu, Fu, Fu..." knocked nine times in a row.Bernard headed straight for the elevator.
The auditorium for the Ford Day Celebration and Community Singing Concert is on the ground floor of the building, with 7,000 rooms above, 100 rooms on each floor, where the solidarity group holds biweekly prayers.Berner went down to the 33rd floor, ran across the corridor in a hurry, hesitated at the door of Room 3210, mustered up his courage, and walked in.
Thanks Ford!He's not the last.Around the table were twelve chairs, and three were empty.He slipped as inconspicuously as possible to the nearest chair, intending to frown at whoever came after him - whoever it was.
"What were you playing this afternoon?" asked a girl to his left, turning to him. "Hazard ball or magnetic ball?"
Bernard took one look at her (Jesus! Morgana Rothschild) and told her blushing that he was playing nothing.Morgana looked at him in surprise.There was a brief awkward silence.
Then she turned in a huff and went off to talk to the more interesting person on her left.
"What a start of united prayers." Bernard thought painfully, and he had a premonition that his intention of redemption would fail again.If only he hadn't rushed to grab the nearest seat and let himself look around first!He might sit between Fifi Branlauf and Joanna Diesel.But he confusedly stuffed himself next to Morgana.Morgana!My Lord Ford!Her eyebrows! (An eyebrow, rather, since it joined over the bridge of the nose.) And to his right, again, was Clara Deterding.Yes, Deterding's eyebrows were not joined together, but she was too clever.Feifei and Joanna were definitely just right: plump, blond, not too tall.But now, that big idiot Kawaguchi sat between them.
The last to arrive was Sarojini Engels.
"You are late," the group leader said sternly, "you can't do this in the future."
Sarogini apologized and slipped to the seat between Jim Bokanowski and Herbert Bakunin.The whole group is here, the solidarity group is complete, and no one is absent.A man, a woman, a man, a woman... formed a circle around the table, alternating endlessly.Twelve people are ready, waiting to merge and become one, losing twelve different personalities in a larger living space.
The chairman stood up, drew the letter T, turned on the synthesized music, and played an uninterrupted soft drum beat and instrumental ensemble-soft wind music, faint strings, and the short melody of the unity hymn repeated endlessly, lingering, unable to escape.Repeat, repeat, it is no longer the ears that hear the pulsating rhythm, but the lower abdomen.The shouts and percussions in the recurring melody no longer surround the heart, but the viscera longing for unity.
The chairman drew another T and sat down.Prayers have begun.The offering of soma tablets is placed in the center of the table.Cups of love with strawberry ice cream and soma were passed around, twelve toasts according to the formula "I toast my demise," and then the first chapter of the Unity Psalm was sung to the accompaniment of a synth band.
Twelve urgent stanzas.The Cup of Love is passed for the second time.The slogan of the moment is "I drink to the greater existence".Everyone cheers.The music played without interruption, with frequent drum beats, shouts and percussions in the music that intoxicated the ecstasy of tenderness.
Another twelve bars.By this time the soma had begun to work.The eyes are bright, the cheeks are flushed, and the light of inner love shines on every face, blooming in happiness and friendly laughter.Even Bernard felt somewhat melted.When Morgana Rothschild smiled back at him, he smiled back as best he could.But the brows, the brows joined together—oh!Still like that, he couldn't turn a blind eye.No, no matter how hard he tried to force himself.Probably the heat of fusion has not reached home yet!But if he sits between Feifei and Joanna, maybe... the cup of love will be passed for the third time. "I drink to his coming," Morgana Rothschild said.It was her turn to start the cup passing ceremony.Her voice was high and joyous.She drank the soma and passed it to Bernard. "I drink to his coming." Bernard repeated her words, trying to think of his coming in his mind, but that eyebrow still lingered.For Bernard, his arrival was terribly distant.He drank the soma and passed the cup to Deterding. "Looks like it's going to fail again this time," he thought to himself. "It's going to fail, I know." But he still laughed as hard as he could.
This round of the cup of love was passed, the chairman raised his hand to signal, and the chorus broke out into the third chapter of the hymn of unity:
Song after song, the singing became more and more excited and high-pitched.The sense of his imminent arrival was like thunderbolts in the sky.The group leader terminated the piece, and as the last note of the piece faded away, there was absolute silence—the silence of long longing trembling and crawling in the electrified life.The chairman held out a hand.Suddenly, a voice, a deep and powerful voice, more pleasing, richer, warmer, more vibrating with love, longing, and compassion than any human voice, a wonderful, mysterious, supernatural voice above people's heads Very slowly came from above: "Oh, Ford, Ford, Ford." The voice gradually became weaker and lowered.A burst of intense warmth radiated thrillingly from the abdominal plexus of the audience, penetrating into every pole of their bodies; they couldn't help tears, and their internal organs seemed to be throbbing with an independent life. "Ford!" they collapsed, "Ford!" they melted, melted.Then, the voice suddenly called out in another startling tune. "Listen!" The voice seemed to come from a trumpet, "Listen!" They listened.After a while, the voice dropped to a whisper and continued.But that whisper was more stirring than the highest voice. "Footsteps of a Greater Being," the whisper continued, barely audible when it came to "Footsteps of a Greater Being." "The footsteps of the Greater Being have come up the stairs." Silence again.The temporarily slack expectation tightened again, tighter and tighter, and it was almost broken.The footsteps of a greater being—oh, they heard, they heard, came slowly down the stairs, approached by the invisible stairs.The footsteps of a greater being suddenly came to a breaking point, and Morgana Rothschild jumped to her feet, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"I hear him," she cried, "I hear him."
"He's coming." Sarojini Engels called out.
"Yes, here he is, I heard his voice." Fifi Bralaugh and Tom Kawaguchi both jumped up at the same time.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Joanna also came to testify vaguely.
"Here he comes!" exclaimed Jim Bokanowski.
The team leader leaned forward and pressed a button, releasing the babble of cymbals, the high pitch of brass pipes and the rapid sound of drums.
"Ah, here he comes!" screamed Clara Deterding, "ahhh!" as if someone had slit her throat.
Bernard felt that it was time for him to act, so he also jumped up and shouted: "I heard, he is coming." But his words were false, he heard nothing, and he didn't feel anyone arrival.Nobody—despite the music, despite the growing excitement.He kept waving his hands, yelling after the most excited of them all.Others began to dance and dance around, and he danced and danced around.
They formed a circle and danced in a circle.Everyone put their hands on the waist of the person in front, jumped around and around, shouted in unison, stepped on the beat of the music, and then slapped the buttocks of the person in front with their hands; Twelve buttocks snapped.Twelve people become one, and twelve become one. "I heard him coming, I heard him coming." The music quickened, the pace quickened, and so did the clapping.Suddenly, a synth bass hums the words, announcing the coming of atonement, the consummation of unity, the arrival of the Twelve.Twelve in one is the physical embodiment of the great existence.The bass sang: "Joyful and dripping." The drums continued to beat out a frenzied rhythm:
"Joyful, juicy," the dancers sang along with the refrain of the prayer, "Joyful, Ford, kiss big girl..." and as they sang the lights dimmed--dimmed and warmed at the same time, sweet Get up, redder, and finally they are already dancing in the red haze of the embryo bank. "Joyful and dripping." The dancers continued to turn several times in the blood-red darkness of their embryos, beating tireless rhythms. "Happy and dripping..." Finally, the circle shook and dispersed, and the couple lay down on the surrounding couches—those couches formed circles and circles around the table and the chairs around it. "Joyful, dripping..." The deep voice softly crooned and whispered; in the dim red, it seemed that a huge black dove lovingly and hospitablely hovered above the upside-down dancing crowd at this moment.
The two of them stood on the roof.Big Henry just sang eleven o'clock.The night was calm and warm.
"It's wonderful, isn't it?" said Fifi Braglaugh, "it's really wonderful, isn't it?" She looked at Bernard with an excited expression, and there was no trace of excitement or excitement in the joy-- Because excitement meant no satiation, and what she got was the finished orgy, the contented peace.That peace is not empty contentment and boredom, but a balanced life and rested and balanced energy, a rich and vivid peace.For unity prayer is both taking and giving, and taking is meant to be compensated.Feifei is fulfilled, Feifei is perfect, and she is still full of emotion and joy. "Don't you think it's wonderful?" she asked, looking into Bernard's face with her supernatural eyes, staring at him.
"Wonderful, I think it's wonderful." He looked aside and lied.Her altered face is both an accusation and an ironic revelation of his isolation.He was still as painfully alone now as he had been when he began to pray—and he felt even lonelier because of the unfillable emptiness and rigid satiety.He was left out, unredeemed, while others merged into something greater.Even in Morgana's arms he was alone—more alone in fact, more hopelessly just himself than he had ever been in his life.He came out of the scarlet twilight into the ordinary electric light with a painfully intense self-consciousness.He was sad all over.Maybe it was his own fault (her shining eyes accused him). "It's wonderful," he repeated.But the only thing he could think of was Morgana's eyebrows.
Notes:
Notes: