Equality: In the Year 2000 jw-2

by Mack Reynolds

  Johnny Reston came back to him now. Sergeant John Reston. They had been a team for some six months down in the Mekong Delta area. They had worked out a system, based on that of pursuit pilots. Johnny acted as the equivalent of a wing man for Julian; that is, he remained to the right and a few yards behind him when they went into action. Julian was the point man and directed his fire at the enemy. Johnny spent full time covering him, ignoring offensive action of his own, unless it involved protecting his buddy. It had worked pretty well until the day when they were wading waist deep in water, wading desperately for dry land and cover, that an exploding mortar shell hit Johnny almost dead center. A great deal of blood and gore that had been Sergeant John Reston was flung over Julian. After he had gotten to land, he had vomited his guts out.

  Yes, he could have told Sean and Edith about that. But could he have told it true, as Papa had demanded? Probably not; he could never have brought home to them the reality of the thing, the nauseating horror. As he recalled, it had only been a week later that he stepped on the land mine and nearly had his leg blown off. Two months in hospital and, when he had recovered, he had two weeks’ R R in Bangkok where he picked up the only case of venereal disease he had ever experienced.

  The screen lit up before him and he began to scan the developments in science since the time Doctor Herbert Pillsbury had put him into stasis.

  SCIENTIFIC AND TECHNOLOGICAL BREAKTHROUGHS SINCE 1970—NOT NECESSARILY IN ORDER OF DISCOVERY

  1. Applications of masers and lasers for sensing, communication, measuring, heating, cutting, power transmission, mining and illumination, and other purposes.

  Well, the Leetes had already told him a bit about that, although he still didn’t understand what in the hell a laser was. He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that it was a very narrow beam of light, and had the potential to be made into a death ray.

  2. Very high-temperature and high-strength structural materials. New and improved fabrics such as fibers, papers, and plastics and new materials for appliances and equipment such as alloys, glasses, ceramics, intermetallics, and cermets.

  3. New sources of power for fixed installations such as magnetohydrodynamic, thermoelectric, thermoionic and radioactivity, and new sources of power for transportation including improved storage batteries, fuel cells, propulsion by electric-magnetic fields and jet engines.

  All right, that was to be expected. He had missed a couple of the words. What were cermets, and what was magnetohydrodynamic? He supposed he should order a dictionary from the ultra-market down in the basement. Right now that would slow him up too much, however, looking up every word he didn’t understand.

  4. Worldwide use of high-altitude cameras in satellites for weather control, mapping, geological investigations, prospecting, and land use.

  5. New methods of water transport, including automated cargo ships, hovercraft, submarine carriers pulled by surface tugs, and developments in container ships. Ground Effect Machines, eliminating the need to load and unload cargo at sea ports.

  Nothing startling there, either. All of it had been germinating in his own time. But the next one set him back.

  6. Advances in cyborg techniques such as substitutes or mechanical aids for limbs, senses, or organs.

  Dr. Leete had told him that they no longer transplanted organs. Did he, Julian West, have an artificial heart in his chest?

  7. New techniques and institutions for education, including chemical methods for improving learning and memory, and home education via video and computerized programmed learning.

  He knew about that, too—and that it largely applied only to youth.

  8. New and improved materials and equipment for buildings including variable transmission glass, heating and cooling by thermoelectric effect, and phosphorescent and electroluminescent lighting.

  9. Widespread use of cryogenics.

  He hadn’t any idea as to cryogenics and could only guess at electroluminescent lighting.

  10. Recoverable boosters for space launching, direct broadcasts from satellites to home receivers, permanent lunar bases, manned satellites and planetary bases, and the beginnings of planetary engineering.

  Most of that had been in the cards when he went into hibernation, although he didn’t know what they meant by planetary engineering.

  11. High-capacity, worldwide, regional, and local communication through satellites, light pipes and lasers, and video TV communications, including tape material from data banks and rapid transmission offacsimilies including news, library material, instantaneous mail delivery, and other printouts.

  12. Large scale desalinization through use of nuclear fusion and solar power, allowing for reforestation of such areas as the Sahara.

  13. Widespread use of computers for intellectual assistance, including translation, teaching, literature search, medical diagnosis, traffic control, computation, design analysis, and other functions.

  14. Transceivers for personal communication on a worldwide basis.

  15. Stimulated, planned, and programmed dreams.

  That last one set him back again. He was going to have to ask the doctor about that.

  16. Extensive genetic control regarding humans, animals, and plants.

  He refused to think about that for the time.

  17. Artificial growth of new limbs and organs, either in situ or for later transplantation.

  Another one to ask the doctor about.

  18. Indefinite suspended animation.

  He was on home ground with that one. Indefinite? He had been under for more than thirty years, hadn’t he? Now, he supposed, new developments had occurred.

  19. Major rejuvenation and significant extention of life span and vigor.

  That was something! He wondered to what extent. Somebody—Edith, he thought—had already told him that man was no longer tied to his traditional three score years and ten.

  20. Automated highways and moving sidewalks for local transportation.

  21. Substantial progress toward anti-gravity.

  22. Lifetime immunization against practically all diseases.

  23. Understanding of cetacean languages.

  That would mean communication with… well, porpoises, whales, and dolphins, wouldn’t it?

  24. Wireless energy—

  Before he could finish taking it in, his TV phone hummed. He switched off his auto-teacher screen and activated the phone. It was Edith.

  “Have you forgotten that you promised to have lunch with us? Mother was to present one of her recipes.”

  He said, “Sorry, Edie. I was all caught up in research. I’ll be right over.”

  The Leete door opened at his approach, it too being keyed in to his face. He went on into the living room where both Edith and her mother were already at the dining room table.

  Martha smiled at him. “I’ve already dialed for lunch. I hope you like Oysters Diablo.”

  He took his customary place. “I’m an oyster man from way back but I don’t believe I know that dish.” He looked around. “Isn’t the doctor going to be with us? I’ve managed to accumulate some more questions about the changes that have taken place since my times.”

  Mrs. Leete frowned slightly. “I can’t imagine where he is. He went out a short time ago on an errand that should have taken but a few minutes. Perhaps something came up. We can start without him.”

  It was then that the living room door opened and Doctor Leete stumbled in. His clothes were rumpled and soiled, blood trickled from the side of his mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen.

  The three at the table were on their feet instantly.

  “Raymond!” Martha screamed.

  Julian hurried to the side of the doctor. “What in the hell happened?” he asked as he led the older man to a couch.

  Edith was at her father’s side, eyes wide. “Father! What on earth happened?”

  Doctor Leete brought a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his mouth. He was gasping for breath.

  He said, a
s though he couldn’t believe it himself, “I… I was just mauled by three young men in the elevator.”

  “Mauled!” Martha Leete was next to her husband, her hand anxiously on his arm.

  Julian had gone to the auto-bar. He came back with a stiff shot of brandy. “Here,” he said. “I know you don’t ordinarily drink, but you look as though you could use this. I thought you didn’t have juvenile delinquency any more. What did they take?”

  The doctor looked at him blankly. “Take? What could they take? I have nothing worth taking. We don’t have money. Nobody wears jewelry. I have nothing anybody else couldn’t get by simply dialing the ultra-markets.”

  Edith said, “But… I’ve never heard of such a thing… I’ve never heard of physical violence taking place in this building.”

  Julian was the only one present familiar with such matters. He asked, “What did they do?”

  The doctor shook his head, as though to clear it. “They got into the elevator with me. As we ascended, one suddenly struck me with his fist in the abdomen. Then the others began to hit me. That’s all I can remember, except… one thrust his hand into my jacket pocket.”

  “For what?”

  The doctor shook his head again, his breath coming more naturally now. “For nothing. There was nothing there.”

  Martha said in bewilderment, “But this doesn’t make sense, Raymond. You have no enemies.”

  Her husband put his hand in his jacket pocket, as though to demonstrate that there was nothing in it. Then he frowned. He withdrew a slip of paper and scowled at it. When he had read it, he shook his head in confusion.

  Julian took the slip from him.

  When a social revolution is pending and, for whatever reason, is not accomplished, reaction is the alternative. At such a time any reform measures proposed are concealed measures of reaction—Daniel DeLeon.

  He handed the note to Martha Leete. She and Edith read it, both looking bewildered.

  “Who in the hell’s Daniel DeLeon?” Julian asked.

  The doctor had caught his breath by now. He said, mystified, “Was, not is. He was a revolutionist about 1900. Very prominent in socialist circles a century ago.”

  Julian looked at Edith. “Can’t you call the police?”

  “We don’t have police, in the old sense of the word,” she said, standing. “But I’ll call University Security.”

  But something strange had come over the doctor’s face. He took the note back from his wife and reread it, then looked up and shook his head. “No, don’t do that. I want to think about this.”

  And now Edith had a thoughtful look too.

  She turned to Julian. “Jule, I’m sorry, but would you mind? It doesn’t look as though a very pleasant lunch is in the offing.”

  “There’s nothing I can do?”

  It was the doctor who answered him. “No. No, Julian. I’ll be all right. We’ll see you later.”

  Chapter Five

  The Year 2, New Calendar

  No society is eager for its own dissolution and all societies try— instinctively, as it were—to perpetuate the status quo.

  —Margaret Halsey, The Corrupted Giant

  As bewildered as the Leetes, Julian returned to his own apartment. They had told him that crime had disappeared in this so-called Republic of the Golden Rule, that there were no more juvenile delinquents, that muggings were a thing of the past. Who in the name of whatever might be holy, would want to beat up kindly old Doctor Leete? He had no frame of reference in which to consider the problem. He gave it up and went into his kitchenette, to the little breakfast nook there. Hesitating momentarily, he dialed Information and asked for a ham sandwich and a bottle of beer.

  Had it been possible for a computer voice to register a tone of surprise, it undoubtedly would have.

  “Would you repeat that order, Mr. West?”

  He repeated it, then said, impatiently, “You take two pieces of bread and butter each lightly on one side. You put between them a slice of ham, moderately thick, covered lightly with mustard, along with some lettuce. You serve it with a dill pickle.”

  “Yes, Mr. West. We shall put the recipe in the kitchen data banks. But we do not serve beer in bottles, sir.”

  “Well, serve it any damn way you wish,” he said.

  “Very well, Mr. West.”

  Shortly, the table sank down to return with his order. The beer was in a large glass and by the looks of the thick, rich head, it was draft. There was too much lettuce. He removed half of it and ate.

  After lunch, there was nothing else he could think of to do so he went back to his study. He resumed his seat before the auto-teacher and took up his studies of Interlingua where he had left off.

  In his determination to master the language as quickly as possible, so that he could get on with his studies—albeit on a grammar school level—he stuck to it with all the concentration he could muster, knocking off only twice to get himself a drink from the auto-bar.

  To his surprise, when he checked the time he found that it was pushing eight o’clock, and then it came back to him that he had a date with young O’Callahan in the Cub Bar. Well, he was tired of studying. The break would be a relief.

  He had heard no more from the Leetes, so he assumed that they were through with him for the day. They had enough on their minds not to want their charge underfoot. He deactivated his auto-teacher and left the apartment, taking the elevator down to the ground floor.

  He looked about the huge, Grecian-style lobby, wondering where the Cub Bar might be.

  A bright young thing, done up in the usual coveralls which seemed to be the most popular garb for either sex, came up to him and said in Interlingua, “May I help you? You’re Mr. West, aren’t you?”

  He said haltingly, in the same language, “Why, yes. Thank you. I was looking for the Cub Bar.”

  “The Cub Bar is just down there. At the end of that corridor. It’s fascinating to meet you, Mr. West.”

  She was looking at him smilingly, as though expecting him to say something further, but all he could think of was, “Thank you, very much.”

  She looked disappointed, turned and left. He watched her go, feeling somehow inadequate, but he didn’t know why.

  The Cub Bar, it turned out, had little to bear out its name, so far as the bars with which he had been familiar with in the past were concerned. And he had been familiar with a good many.

  About all it had in common with the places he remembered was rather dim light. There was no bar, complete with barman, at which one could sit. There was no jukebox, thank God, although there was very faint background music issuing from somewhere he couldn’t determine. There were booths and there were tables, and the walls were tastefully done with paintings, largely representational, and very beautiful tapestries.

  He located Sean O’Callahan, or, rather, the archaeology-history student located him and was waving. Julian made his way over to the booth. Two others were seated with him, both of them older men, in their fifties or early sixties.

  Sean stood at his approach, looking more pleased than Julian thought was called for.

  He slid into the booth and waited for the introductions. He had rather expected the persons Sean O’Callahan had wanted him to meet to be contemporaries of the younger man.

  Sean said, “Julian West Van Hass, may I introduce William Dempsey Harrison and Frederic Madison Ley.”

  On a quick sizing-up, Harrison emanated energy and even aggression, a stocky, confident type in excellent physical shape for his years. Ley reminded him more of the movie star of yesteryear, a sleepy, otherwise expressionless look about his face. His body had just slightly gone to flab. Even before he spoke, Julian was of the opinion that he wasn’t much given to talk.

  They shook hands, went through the usual amenities, then Harrison, with a quick wave of his hand to indicate their three glasses, said, “We’ve already ordered. What would you like?”

  To his surprise, Harrison and Ley obviously had highballs of one
sort or another. Only Sean had a beer glass before him.

  Julian asked for Scotch and soda, and Harrison, who seemed to be senior member of the team, put his transceiver in the payment slot of the table and dialed for it.

  Ley drawled, “Yeah, we used to drink a lot of Scotch in the old days. It’s mostly belly-wash they drink now.”

  Julian’s drink came. He raised his glass by way of a toast. “Sean tells me that I’m quite a freak, what with being a war veteran and all.”

  Ley said quickly, “I was in ’Nam.”

  Harrison looked at him. “Yes, but it was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

  The other lapsed into silence. It was obvious that he deferred to the aggressive Harrison.

  Sean beamed. He was pleased with his success in pulling off this gathering.

  Harrison stared at Julian West for a long moment. “We’ve been hearing about you on the News for a long time. You know, of those who went into hibernation, you’re the first to be awakened. And nobody else was put under for something like ten years after you volunteered.”

  “So I understand,” Julian said easily. “But I didn’t exactly volunteer. No old soldier ever volunteers. With me, it was a matter of going into stasis, or dropping dead in my tracks at any moment.”

  Harrison nodded. “At any rate, you’re the one person around who really remembers the old days.”

  “I remember them,” Ley growled.