Short Fiction by Fritz Leiber (top romance novels .TXT) 📕

only realistic chance for continued existence was to retire, for the five or ten years the radiation would remain deadly, to some well-sealed and radiation-shielded place that must also be copiously supplied with food, water, power, and a means of air-conditioning.

Such places were prepared by the farseeing, seized by the stronger, defended by them in turn against the desperate hordes of the dying⁠ ⁠… until there were no more of those.

After that, only the waiting, the enduring. A mole’s existence, without beauty or tenderness, but with fear and guilt as constant companions. Never to see the Sun, to walk among the trees⁠—or even know if there were still trees.

Oh, yes, she realized what the world was like.

“You understand, too, I suppose, that we were allowed to reclaim this ground-level apartment only because the Committee believed us to be responsible people, and because I’ve been making a damn good showing lately?”

“Yes, Hank.”

“I thought you were eager for privacy. You want to go back to the basement tenements?”

God, no! Anything rather than that fetid huddling, that shameless communal sprawl. And yet, was this so much better? The nearness to the surface was meaningless; it only tantalized. And the privacy magnified Hank.

She shook her head dutifully and said, “No, Hank.”

“Then why aren’t you careful? I’ve told you a million times, Effie, that glass is no protection against the dust that’s outside that window. The lead shutter must never be touched! If you make one single slip like that and it gets around, the Committee will send us back to the lower levels without blinking an eye. And they’ll think twice before trusting me with any important jobs.”

“I’m sorry, Hank.”

“Sorry? What’s the good of being sorry? The only thing that counts is never to make a slip! Why the devil do you do such things, Effie? What drives you to it?”

She swallowed. “It’s just that it’s so dreadful being cooped up like this,” she said hesitatingly, “shut away from the sky and the Sun. I’m just hungry for a little beauty.”

“And do you suppose I’m not?” he demanded. “Don’t you suppose I want to get outside, too, and be carefree and have a good time? But I’m not so damn selfish about it. I want my children to enjoy the Sun, and my children’s children. Don’t you see that that’s the all-important thing and that we have to behave like mature adults and make sacrifices for it?”

“Yes, Hank.”

He surveyed her slumped figure, her lined and listless face. “You’re a fine one to talk about hunger for beauty,” he told her. Then his voice grew softer, more deliberate. “You haven’t forgotten, have you, Effie, that until last month the Committee was so concerned about your sterility? That they were about to enter my name on the list of those waiting to be allotted a free woman? Very high on the list, too!”

She could nod even at that one, but not while looking at him. She turned away. She knew very well that the Committee was justified in worrying about the birth rate. When the community finally moved back to the surface again, each additional healthy young person would be an asset, not only in the struggle for bare survival, but in the resumed war against Communism which some of the Committee members still counted on.

It was natural that they should view a sterile woman with disfavor, and not only because of the waste of her husband’s germ-plasm, but because sterility might indicate that she had suffered more than the average from radiation. In that case, if she did bear children later on, they would be more apt to carry a defective heredity, producing an undue number of monsters and freaks in future generations, and so contaminating the race.

Of course she understood it. She could hardly remember the time when she didn’t. Years ago? Centuries? There wasn’t much difference in a place where time was endless.

His lecture finished, her husband smiled and grew almost cheerful.

“Now that you’re going to have a child, that’s all in the background again. Do you know, Effie, that when I first came in, I had some very good news for you? I’m to become a member of the Junior Committee and the announcement will be made at the banquet tonight.” He cut short her mumbled congratulations. “So brighten yourself up and put on your best dress. I want the other Juniors to see what a handsome wife the new member has got.” He paused. “Well, get a move on!”

She spoke with difficulty, still not looking at him. “I’m terribly sorry, Hank, but you’ll have to go alone. I’m not well.”

He straightened up with an indignant jerk. “There you go again! First that infantile, inexcusable business of the shutters, and now this! No feeling for my reputation at all. Don’t be ridiculous, Effie. You’re coming!”

“Terribly sorry,” she repeated blindly, “but I really can’t. I’d just be sick. I wouldn’t make you proud of me at all.”

“Of course you won’t,” he retorted sharply. “As it is, I have to spend half my energy running around making excuses for you⁠—why you’re so odd, why you always seem to be ailing, why you’re always stupid and snobbish and say the wrong thing. But tonight’s really important, Effie. It will cause a lot of bad comment if the new member’s wife isn’t present. You know how just a hint of sickness starts the old radiation-disease rumor going. You’ve got to come, Effie.”

She shook her head helplessly.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, come on!” he shouted, advancing on her. “This is just a silly mood. As soon as you get going, you’ll snap out of it. There’s nothing really wrong with you at all.”

He put his hand on her shoulder to turn her around, and at his touch her face suddenly grew so desperate and gray that for a moment he was alarmed in spite of himself.

“Really?” he asked, almost with a note of concern.

She nodded miserably.

“Hmm!” He stepped back and strode about irresolutely. “Well, of course, if that’s the