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Love Story

Page 2

by Irving E. Cox

MoralsSquad would have disposed of him altogether.

  From that day on, George lived with guilt and fear. As the yearspassed, he several times stole capsules of the compound from hismother's love-cabinet and gulped them down. Sometimes he felt a littlegiddy, and once he was sick. But he experienced no reaction whichcould possibly be defined as love. Not that he had any idea what thatreaction should have been, but he knew he was supposed to feel verywicked and he never did.

  Each failure increased the agony of guilt; George drove himself to befar better behaved than he was required to be. He dreaded making onemistake. If his mother or a Director examined it too closely, theymight find out his real secret.

  George's basic education began when he was assigned to his confinementroom above the garage after his tenth birthday. Thereafter his timewas thoroughly regulated by law. Three hours a day he watchedtelevision; three hours he spent in his gym, building amagnificent--and salable--body; for four hours he listened to theeducational tapes. Arithmetic, economics, salesmanship, businesstechniques, accounting, mechanics, practical science: the things hehad to know in order to earn a satisfactory living for the woman whobought him in marriage.

  He learned nothing else and as he grew older he became very consciousof the gaps in his education. For instance, what of the past? Had theworld always been this sham he lived in? That question he had the goodsense not to ask.

  But George had learned enough from his lessons in practical science toguess what the compound really was, what it had to be: a mixture ofaphrodisiacs and a habit-forming drug. The compound was calculated tostir up a man's desire to the point where he would give up anything inorder to satisfy it. Boys were given increased doses during theiradolescence; by the time they married, they were addicts, unable toleave the compound alone.

  George couldn't prove his conclusion. He had no idea how many othermen had followed the same line of reasoning and come up with the sameanswer. But why was George immune? There was only one way he couldfigure it: it must have happened because his sisters gave him thefirst draft when he was seven. But logically that didn't make muchsense.

  Bachelors were another sort of enemy: men who shirked their duty anddeserted their wives. It seemed unreasonable to believe a man coulddesert his wife, when first he had to break himself of addiction tothe compound. George had always supposed that bachelor was a boogyword contrived to frighten growing children.

  As a consequence, he was very surprised when the house next door wasraided. Through the window of his confinement cubicle, he actually sawthe five gray-haired men who were rounded up by the Morals Squad. TheSquad--heavily armed, six-foot Amazons--tried to question theircaptives. They used injections of a truth serum. Two of the old mendied at once. The others went berserk, frothing at the mouth andscreaming animal profanity until the Squad captain ordered them shot.

  George overheard one of the women say, "It's always like this. Theytake something so our serum can't be effective."

  Later that afternoon George found a scrap of paper in his mother'sgarden. It had blown out of the bonfire which the Morals Squad made ofthe papers they took out of the house next door. The burned page hadapparently been part of an informational bulletin, compiled by thebachelors for distribution among themselves.

  "... data compiled from old publications," the fragment began, "andinterpreted by our most reliable authorities." At that point a part ofthe page was burned away. "... and perhaps less than ninety years agomen and women lived in equality. The evidence on that point isentirely conclusive. The present matriarchy evolved by accident, notdesign. Ninety years ago entertainment and advertising wereexclusively directed at satisfying a woman's whim. No product was soldwithout some sort of tie-in with women. Fiction, drama, television,motion pictures--all glorified a romantic thing called love. In thatsame period business was in the process of taking over government fromstatesmen and politicians. Women, of course, were the stockholders whoowned big business, although the directors and managers at that timewere still men--operating under the illusion that they were theexecutives who represented ownership. In effect, however, women ownedthe country and women governed it; suddenly the matriarchy existed.There is no evidence that it was imposed; there is no suggestion ofcivil strife or...." More words burned away. "However, the women werenot unwilling to consolidate their gains. Consequently the popularcliches, the pretty romances, and the catchwords of advertising becamea substitute for reality. As for the compound...."

  There the fragment ended. Much of it George did not understand. But itgave him a great deal of courage simply to know the bachelors actuallyexisted. He began to plan his own escape to a bachelor hideout. Hewould have no opportunity, no freedom of any sort, until he married.Every boy was rigidly isolated in his confinement cubicle, under thewatchful eye of his mother's spy-cameras, until he was bought in hisfirst marriage.

  Then, as he thought more about it, George realized there was a betterway for him to use his immunity. He couldn't be sure of finding abachelor hideout before the Morals Squad tracked him down. But Georgecould force his bride to tell him where the compound was made, sincehe was not an addict and she could not use the compound to enslavehim. Once he knew the location of the factory, he would destroy it.How, he wasn't sure; he didn't plan that far ahead. If the supply ofthe drug could be interrupted, many hundreds of men might be goadedinto making a break for the hills.

  * * * * *

  The duty bell rang. George snapped to attention on the edge of hisbunk. He saw his mother waving from the back door of her house.

  "I'll be down right away, Mummy."

  His mother was waiting for him in the pantry. Under the glaringoverhead light he stopped for her last minute inspection. She used apocket-stick to touch up a spot on his chest where the oil gleam hadfaded a little. And she gave him a glass of the compound to drink.

  "Jenny really wants to marry you, George," she confided. "I know thesymptoms; half our battle's won for us. And my former husband won't bearound to worry us with his aches and pains. I made the trade thisafternoon."

  He followed her into the dining room where the cocktails were beingserved. Aside from the Harpers, George's mother had rented twohandsome, muscular escorts for his sisters. In the confusion, Georgesaw Jenny Harper's mother stealthily lace his water glass with a doseof the compound. He suppressed a grin. Apparently she was anxious tocomplete the deal, too.

  George found it almost impossible to hold back hilarious laughter whenJenny herself shyly pressed a capsule of the compound into his handand asked him to use it. Three full-size slugs of the drug! Georgewondered what would have happened if he hadn't been immune.Fortunately, he knew how to act the lusty, eager, drooling male whicheach of the women expected.

  The negotiations moved along without a hitch. George's mother held outfor twenty-eight thousand shares, and got it. The only problem leftwas the date for the wedding, and Jenny settled that very quickly. "Iwant my man, Mom," she said, "and I want him now."

  Jenny always got what she wanted.

  When she and her mother left that evening, she held George's hand inhers and whispered earnestly, "So they were married and lived happilyever after. That's the way it's going to be with us, isn't it,George?"

  "It's up to you, Jenny; for as long as you want me."

  That was the conventional answer which he was expected to make, but hesaw unmasked disappointment in her face. She wanted something moregenuine, with more of himself in it. He felt suddenly sorry for her,for the way he was going to use her. She was a pretty girl, even sweetand innocent--if those words still had any real meaning left afterwhat his mother's world had done to them. Under other circumstances,George would have looked forward with keen pleasure to marrying Jenny.As it was, Jenny Harper was first a symbol of the fakery he intendedto destroy, and after that a woman.

  * * * * *

  Five days later they were married. In spite of the short engagement,Mrs. Harper and George's mother managed to p
ut on a splendid show inthe church. George received a business sedan from his mother, thetraditional gift given every bridegroom; and from Mrs. Harper hereceived a good job in a company where she was the majoritystockholder. And so, in the customary pageantry and ceremony, Georgebecame Mr. Harper.

  "Think of it--Mr. Harper," Jenny sighed, clinging to his arm. "Nowyou're really mine, George."

  On the church steps the newlyweds posed for photographs--George in theplain, white trunks which symbolized a first marriage; Jenny in adazzling cloud of fluff, suggestively nearly transparent. Then Mrs.Harper drew Jenny aside and whispered in her daughter's ear: thetraditional telling of the secret. Now Jenny knew where the compoundwas manufactured; and for George revenge was within his grasp.

  George's mother had arranged for their

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