Record Six

I must repeat, I made it my duty to write concealing nothing. Therefore I must point out now that sad as it may be, the process of hardening and crystallization of life has evidently not been completed even here in our State. A few steps remain to be made before we reach the ideal. The ideal (it’s clear), is to be found where nothing happens, but here.... I will give you an example: in the State paper I read that in two days the holiday of Justice will be celebrated on the Plaza of the Cube. This means that again some Number has impeded the smooth run of the great State machine. Again something that was not foreseen, or forecalculated happened.

I must repeat that I made it my duty to write without hiding anything. So I must point out something sad. The process of hardening and crystallizing life has apparently not been completed, even here in our State. We still have a few steps to take before we reach the ideal. Clearly, the ideal is found where nothing happens, but here.... Let me give you an example: I read in the State paper that the holiday of Justice will be celebrated in two days on the Plaza of the Cube. This means that once again some Number has disrupted the smooth running of the great State machine. Once again, something that was not foreseen or calculated in advance happened.

Besides, something happened to me. True, it occurred during the personal hour, that is during the time specifically assigned to unforeseen circumstances, yet....

Besides, something happened to me. True, it happened during the personal hour, the time specifically set aside for unforeseen events, but....

At about sixteen (to be exact, ten minutes to sixteen), I was at home. Suddenly the telephone: “D-503?”—a woman’s voice.

I was home at about four in the afternoon. To be exact, it was ten minutes to four. Suddenly, the telephone rang. “D-503?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Are you free?”

“Are you free?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“It is I, I-330. I shall run over to you immediately. We shall go together to the Ancient House. Agreed?”

“It's me, I-330. I'll come over right away. We'll go to the Ancient House together. Agreed?”

I-330!... This I- irritates me, repels me. She almost frightens me; but just because of that I answered, “Yes.”

I-330!... This I- irritates me, repels me. She almost scares me. But that was exactly why I answered, “Yes.”

In five minutes we were in an aero. Blue sky of May. The light sun in its golden aero buzzed behind us without catching up and without lagging behind. Ahead of us a white cataract of a cloud. Yes, a white cataract of a cloud nonsensically fluffy like the cheeks of an ancient cupid. That cloud was disturbing. The front window was open; it was windy; lips were dry. Against one’s will one passed the tongue constantly over them and thought about lips.

Within five minutes, we were in an aero. The May sky was blue. The bright sun buzzed behind us in its golden aero, neither catching up nor falling behind. Ahead of us was a white waterfall of cloud. Yes, a white waterfall of cloud, absurdly fluffy like the cheeks of an ancient cupid. The cloud was unsettling. The front window was open, and the wind dried our lips. Without meaning to, one kept licking them and thinking about lips.

Already we saw in the distance the hazy green spots on the other side of the Wall. Then a slight involuntary sinking of the heart, down—down—down, as if from a steep mountain, and we were at the Ancient House.

We could already see hazy green patches in the distance, on the other side of the Wall. Then my heart sank slightly, without warning, down, down, down, as if we were descending a steep mountain. We were at the Ancient House.

That strange, delicate, blind establishment is covered all around with a glass shell, otherwise it would undoubtedly have fallen to pieces long ago. At the glass door we found an old woman all wrinkles, especially her mouth which was all made up of folds and pleats. Her lips had disappeared, having folded inward; her mouth seemed grown together. It seemed incredible that she should be able to talk and yet she did:

That strange, delicate, blind building is surrounded by a glass shell. Without it, the building would undoubtedly have fallen apart long ago. At the glass door, we found an old woman covered in wrinkles. Her mouth was especially wrinkled, all folds and pleats. Her lips had folded inward and disappeared, and her mouth seemed to have grown shut. It seemed impossible that she could speak, yet she did:

“Well, dear, come again to see my little house?”

“Well, dear, have you come to see my little house again?”

Her wrinkles shone, that is, her wrinkles diverged like rays, which created the impression of shining.

Her wrinkles shone. That is, they spread out like rays, making them look as if they were shining.

“Yes, grandmother,” answered I-330.

“Yes, grandmother,” I-330 replied.

The wrinkles continued to shine.

The wrinkles kept shining.

“And the sun, eh,—do you see it, you rogue, you! I know, I know. It’s all right. Go all by yourselves,—I shall remain here in the sunshine.”

“And the sun, eh? Do you see it, you rascal? I know, I know. It’s all right. Go on by yourselves. I’ll stay here in the sunshine.”

Hmm.... Apparently my companion was a frequent guest here. Something disturbed me; probably that unpleasant optical impression,—the cloud on the smooth blue surface of the sky.

Hmm.... Apparently, my companion came here often. Something bothered me. It was probably the unpleasant sight of a cloud on the smooth blue surface of the sky.

While we were ascending the wide, dark stairs, I-330 said, “I love her, that old woman.”

As we climbed the wide, dark stairs, I-330 said, “I love that old woman.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps for her mouth,—or perhaps for nothing, just so.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps because of her mouth, or perhaps for no reason at all.”

I shrugged my shoulders. She continued walking upstairs with a faint smile or perhaps without a smile at all.

I shrugged. She kept walking upstairs, with a faint smile or perhaps no smile at all.

I felt very guilty. It is clear that there must not be “love, just so,” but “love because of.” For all elements of nature should be....

I felt very guilty. Clearly, there must not be “love just because,” but “love for a reason.” For all elements of nature should be....

“It’s clear ...” I began, but I stopped at that word and cast a furtive look at I-330. Did she notice it or not? She looked somewhere, down; her eyes were closed like curtains.

“It’s clear ...” I began, but stopped at that word and glanced secretly at I-330. Had she noticed it? She was looking down, her eyes closed like curtains.

It struck me suddenly: evening about twenty-two; you walk on the avenue and among the brightly lighted, transparent, cubic cells, are dark spaces, lowered curtains, and there behind the curtains.... What has she behind her curtains? Why did she phone me today? Why did she bring me here? and all this....

It suddenly struck me: in the evening, around twenty-two, you walk along the avenue. Among the brightly lit, transparent, cube-shaped cells, there are dark spaces with lowered curtains. And there, behind the curtains.... What does she have behind her curtains? Why did she call me today? Why did she bring me here? And all this....

She opened a heavy, squeaking, opaque door and we found ourselves in a sombre disorderly space (they called it an “apartment”). The same strange “royal” musical instrument and a wild, unorganized, crazy loudness of colors and forms like their ancient music. A white plane above, dark blue walls, red, green, orange bindings of ancient books, yellow bronze candelabras, a statue of Buddha, furniture with lines distorted by epilepsy, impossible to reduce to any clear equation.

She opened a heavy, squeaking, solid door, and we found ourselves in a gloomy, messy room (they called it an “apartment”). There was the same strange “royal” musical instrument. The colors and shapes were wild, chaotic, and loud, like their ancient music. There was a white ceiling, dark blue walls, and ancient books with red, green, and orange bindings. There were yellow bronze candelabras, a statue of Buddha, and furniture with lines distorted as if by epilepsy. The furniture’s lines could not be reduced to any clear equation.

I could hardly bear that chaos. But my companion apparently possessed a stronger constitution.

I could hardly stand the chaos. But my companion seemed better able to handle it.

“This is my most beloved—” she suddenly caught herself (again a smile,—bite, and white sharp teeth), “to be more exact, the most nonsensical of all ‘apartments’.”

“This is my favorite,” she suddenly caught herself (another smile, a bite, and sharp white teeth). “To be more exact, the most nonsensical of all ‘apartments’.”

“Or to be most exact, of all the States. Thousands of microscopic States, fighting eternal wars, pitiless like—”

“Or, to be precise, of all the States. Thousands of microscopic States, fighting endless wars, ruthless as...”

“Oh yes, it’s clear,” said I-330 with apparent sincerity.

“Oh yes, it’s clear,” said I-330, sounding sincere.

We passed through a room where we found a few small children’s beds (children in those days were also private property). Then more rooms, glimmering mirrors, sombre closets, unbearably loud-colored divans, an enormous “fireplace,” a large mahogany bed. Our contemporary beautiful, transparent, eternal glass was represented here only by pitiful, delicate, tiny squares of windows.

We passed through a room with a few small children’s beds (children were also private property in those days). Then came more rooms, gleaming mirrors, gloomy closets, unbearably bright-colored sofas, an enormous “fireplace,” and a large mahogany bed. The only glass here was in the pitiful, delicate, tiny windowpanes. It was nothing like the beautiful, transparent, eternal glass we have today.

“And to think; here there was love ‘just so’; they burned and tortured themselves” (again the curtain of the eyes was lowered), “What a stupid, uneconomical spending of human energy. Am I not right?”

“And to think, there was love here ‘just because.’ They burned and tortured themselves.” (Again, the curtain of the eyes lowered.) “What a stupid, wasteful use of human energy. Am I not right?”

She spoke as though reading my thoughts but in her smile there remained always that irritating X. There behind the curtains something was going on, I don’t know what, but something that made me lose my patience. I wanted to quarrel with her, to scream at her (exactly, to scream), but I had to agree. It was impossible not to agree.

She spoke as if she were reading my thoughts, but that irritating X was always there in her smile. Something was going on behind the curtains. I didn’t know what, but it made me lose my patience. I wanted to argue with her, to scream at her (yes, scream). But I had to agree. It was impossible not to agree.

We stopped in front of a mirror. At that moment I saw only her eyes. An idea came to me: human beings are built as nonsensically as these stupid “apartments,” human heads are opaque, and there are only two very small windows that lead inside,—the eyes. She seemed to have guessed my thoughts; she turned around: “Well, here they are, my eyes,—well” (this suddenly, then silence).

We stopped in front of a mirror. At that moment, all I saw were her eyes. An idea came to me: human beings are built as senselessly as these stupid “apartments.” Human heads are opaque, with only two very small windows leading inside: the eyes. She seemed to have guessed my thoughts. She turned around: “Well, here they are, my eyes, well” (she said this suddenly, then fell silent).

There were in front of me two gloomy dark windows and behind them inside, such strange hidden life. I saw there only fire, burning like a peculiar “fireplace” and unknown figures resembling....

Two dark, gloomy windows stood in front of me. Behind them, inside, was a strange, hidden life. I saw only fire, burning like a peculiar “fireplace,” and unfamiliar figures resembling....

All this was certainly very natural; I saw in her eyes the reflection of my own face. But my feelings were unnatural and not like me. Evidently the depressing influence of the surroundings was beginning to tell on me. I felt definitely fear. I felt as if I were trapped and caged in a strange cage. I felt that I was caught in the wild hurricane of ancient life.

All this was certainly natural. I saw my own face reflected in her eyes. But my feelings were unnatural and unlike me. The gloomy surroundings were clearly starting to affect me. I felt definite fear. I felt as if I were trapped in a strange cage. I felt caught in the wild hurricane of ancient life.

“Do you know ...” said I-330, “step out for a moment into the next room.” Her voice came from there,—from inside, from behind the dark window-eyes,—where the fireplace was blazing.

“Do you know ...” said I-330, “step into the next room for a moment.” Her voice came from inside, behind the dark window-eyes, where the fireplace was blazing.

I went out, sat down. From a shelf on the wall there looked straight into my face, somewhat smiling, a snub-nosed, asymmetrical physiognomy of one of the ancient poets; I think it was Pushkin.

I went out and sat down. From a shelf on the wall, the face of an ancient poet looked straight at me. It had a slight smile, a snub nose, and uneven features. I think it was Pushkin.

“Why do I sit here enduring this smile with such resignation and what is this all about? Why am I here? And why all these strange sensations, this irritating, repellent female, this strange game?”

“Why am I sitting here, putting up with this smile so meekly? What is this all about? Why am I here? And why all these strange feelings, this irritating, repulsive woman, this strange game?”

The door of the closet slammed; there was the rustle of silk. I felt it difficult to restrain myself from getting up and, and.... I don’t remember exactly; probably I wanted to tell her a number of disagreeable things. But she had already appeared.

The closet door slammed, and silk rustled. I struggled to stop myself from getting up and, and.... I don’t remember exactly. I probably wanted to say some unpleasant things to her. But she had already appeared.

She was dressed in a short bright-yellowish dress, black hat, black stockings. The dress was of light silk,—I saw clearly very long black stockings above the knees, an uncovered neck and the shadow between....

She wore a short, bright yellowish dress, a black hat, and black stockings. The dress was made of light silk. I could clearly see the long black stockings above her knees, her bare neck, and the shadow between....

“It’s clear that you want to seem original. But is it possible that you—?”

“It’s clear you want to seem original. But could it be that you...?”

“It is clear,” interrupted I-330, “that to be original means to stand out among others; consequently to be original means to violate the law of equality. What was called in the language of the ancients ‘to be common’ is with us only the fulfilling of one’s duty. For—”

“Clearly,” I-330 interrupted, “being original means standing out from others. So being original means breaking the law of equality. What the ancients called ‘being common’ is, for us, simply doing our duty. Because...”

“Yes, yes, exactly,” I interrupted impatiently, “and there is no use, no use....”

“Yes, yes, exactly,” I interrupted impatiently, “and there’s no point, no point....”

She came near the bust of the snub-nosed poet, lowered the curtains on the wild fire of her eyes and said, this time I think she was really in earnest, or perhaps she merely wanted to soften my impatience with her, but she said a very reasonable thing:

She came up to the bust of the snub-nosed poet and lowered her eyelids over the wild fire in her eyes. This time, I think she was really serious. Or perhaps she only wanted to ease my impatience with her. But she said something very reasonable:

“Don’t you think it surprising that once people could stand types like this? Not only stand them but worship them. What a slavish spirit, don’t you think so?”

“Isn’t it surprising that people once tolerated types like this? They didn’t just tolerate them, they worshipped them. What a submissive spirit, don’t you think?”

“It’s clear ... that is...!” I wanted ... (damn that cursed “it’s clear!”).

“It’s clear ... I mean...!” I wanted to ... (damn that cursed “it’s clear!”).

“Oh, yes, I understand. But in fact these were rulers stronger than the crowned ones. Why were they not isolated and exterminated? In our State—”

“Oh, yes, I understand. But these rulers were actually more powerful than crowned rulers. Why weren’t they isolated and exterminated? In our State...”

“Oh, yes, in our State—” I began.

“Oh, yes, in our State...” I began.

Suddenly she laughed. I saw the laughter in her eyes. I saw the resounding sharp curve of that laughter, flexible, tense like a whip. I remember my whole body shivered. I thought of grasping her ... and I don’t know what.... I had to do something, mattered little what; automatically I looked at my golden badge, glanced at my watch,—ten minutes to seventeen!

Suddenly she laughed. I saw the laughter in her eyes. I saw its sharp, ringing curve, flexible and taut like a whip. I remember my whole body shivering. I thought of grabbing her ... and I don’t know what.... I had to do something. It hardly mattered what. Automatically, I looked at my golden badge, then glanced at my watch. Ten minutes to seventeen!

“Don’t you think it is time to go?” I said in as polite a tone as possible.

“Don’t you think it’s time to go?” I asked as politely as I could.

“And if I should ask you to stay here with me?”

“And what if I asked you to stay here with me?”

“What? Do you realize what you are saying? In ten minutes I must be in the auditorium.”

“What? Do you realize what you’re saying? I have to be in the auditorium in ten minutes.”

“And ‘all the Numbers must take the prescribed courses in art and science’,” said I-330 with my voice.

“And ‘all the Numbers must take the required courses in art and science’,” I-330 said in my voice.

Then she lifted the curtain, opened her eyes,—through the dark windows the fire was blazing.

Then she lifted the curtain and opened her eyes. Fire was blazing through the dark windows.

“I have a physician in the Medical Bureau; he is registered to me; if I ask him, he will give you a certificate declaring that you are ill. All right?”

“I have a doctor at the Medical Bureau. He is registered to me. If I ask him, he will give you a certificate saying you are ill. All right?”

Understood! At last I understood where this game was leading.

I got it! At last, I understood where this game was leading.

“Ah, so! But you know that every honest Number as a matter of course must immediately go to the office of the Guardians and—”

“Oh, I see! But you know that every honest Number must, of course, go straight to the Guardians’ office and…”

“And as a matter not of course?” (Sharp smile-bite) “I am very curious to know; will you or will you not go to the Guardians?”

“And what if it’s not a matter of course?” (A sharp, biting smile) “I’m very curious. Will you go to the Guardians or not?”

“Are you going to remain here?”

“Are you going to stay here?”

I grasped the knob of the door. It was a brass knob, a cold, brass knob and I heard, cold like brass, her voice:

I gripped the doorknob. It was brass, cold brass, and I heard her voice, cold as brass:

“Just a minute, may I?”

“Just a minute, may I?”

She went to the telephone, called a Number,—I was so upset it escaped me,—and spoke loudly: “I shall be waiting for you in the Ancient House. Yes, yes, alone.”

She went to the telephone and called a Number. I was so upset that I missed which one. She spoke loudly: “I’ll be waiting for you in the Ancient House. Yes, yes, alone.”

I turned the cold brass knob.

I turned the cold brass knob.

“May I take the aero?”

“Can I take the aero?”

“Oh yes, certainly, please!”

“Oh yes, of course, please!”

In the sunshine at the gate the old woman was dozing like a plant. Again I was surprised to see her grown-together mouth open, and to hear her say:

The old woman was dozing in the sunshine at the gate, like a plant. Again, I was surprised to see her grown-together mouth open and hear her say:

“And your lady, did she remain alone?”

“And did your lady stay alone?”

“Alone.”

“Alone.”

The mouth of the old woman grew together again; she shook her head; apparently even her weakening brain understood the stupidity and the danger of the behaviour of that woman.

The old woman closed her mouth again and shook her head. Apparently, even her weakening mind understood how stupid and dangerous the other woman’s behavior was.

At seventeen o’clock exactly, I was at the lecture. There I suddenly realized that I did not tell the whole truth to the old woman. I-330 was not there alone now. Possibly this fact, that I involuntarily told the old woman a lie, was torturing me now and distracting my attention. Yes, not alone,—that was the point.

At exactly seventeen o’clock, I was at the lecture. There, I suddenly realized I had not told the old woman the whole truth. I-330 was not there alone now. Perhaps the fact that I had unintentionally lied to the old woman was now torturing me and distracting me. Yes, she was not alone. That was the point.

After twenty-one-thirty o’clock I had a free hour. I could therefore have gone to the office of the Guardians to make my report; but after that stupid adventure I was so tired—besides, the law provides two days. I shall have time tomorrow; I have another twenty-four hours.

After 9:30 p.m., I had a free hour. So I could have gone to the Guardians' office to make my report. But I was so tired after that stupid adventure. Besides, the law allows two days. I’ll have time tomorrow. I still have another twenty-four hours.