Record Ten

Yesterday was for me a kind of filter-paper which chemists use for filtering their solutions (all suspended and superfluous particles remain on the paper). This morning I went downstairs all purified and distilled, transparent.

Yesterday was like the filter paper chemists use to filter their solutions (all suspended and excess particles remain on the paper). This morning I went downstairs purified and distilled, transparent.

Downstairs in the hall the controller sat at a small table, constantly looking at her watch and recording the Numbers who were leaving. Her name is U- ... well, I prefer not to give her Number, for I fear I may not write kindly about her. Although, as a matter of fact, she is a very respectable, mature woman. The only thing I do not like in her is that her cheeks fold down a little like gills of a fish (although I do not see anything wrong in this appearance). She scratched with her pen and I saw on the page “D-503”—and suddenly, splash! an ink-blot. No sooner did I open my mouth to call her attention to that, than she raised her head and blotted me with an inky smile. “There is a letter for you. You will receive it, dear. Yes, yes, you will.”

Downstairs in the hall, the controller sat at a small table. She kept checking her watch and recording the Numbers of those leaving. Her name is U- ... well, I would rather not give her Number, because I’m afraid I may not write kindly about her. In fact, she is a very respectable, mature woman. The only thing I don’t like about her is that her cheeks fold down a little like a fish’s gills. Although I don’t see anything wrong with that. She scratched away with her pen, and I saw “D-503” on the page. Then suddenly, splash! An inkblot. I had barely opened my mouth to point it out when she looked up and blotted me with an inky smile. “There is a letter for you. You will receive it, dear. Yes, yes, you will.”

I knew a letter, after she had read it, must go through the Bureau of the Guardians (I think it is unnecessary to explain in detail this natural order of things); I would receive it not later than twelve o’clock. But that tiny smile confused me; the drop of ink clouded the transparency of the distilled solution. At the dock of the Integral I could not concentrate; I even made a mistake in my calculations,—that never happened to me before.

I knew that after she read the letter, it had to go through the Bureau of the Guardians. (I don't think I need to explain this natural order of things in detail.) I would receive the letter by twelve o'clock. But that tiny smile confused me. A drop of ink clouded the clear, distilled solution. At the dock of the Integral, I couldn't concentrate. I even made a mistake in my calculations. That had never happened to me before.

At twelve o’clock, again the rosy-brown fish-gills’ smile, and at last the letter was in my hands. I cannot say why I did not read it right there, but I put it in my pocket and ran into my room. I opened it and glanced it over and ... and sat down. It was the official notification advising me that Number I-330 had had me assigned to her and that today at twenty-one o’clock, I was to go to her. Her address was given.

At twelve o’clock, I saw the rosy-brown fish-gill smile again, and at last the letter was in my hands. I don’t know why I didn’t read it there. Instead, I put it in my pocket and ran to my room. I opened it, glanced over it, and ... and sat down. It was an official notice telling me that Number I-330 had had me assigned to her. I was to go to her today at 21:00. Her address was included.

“No! After all that happened! After I showed her frankly my attitude toward her! Besides, how could she know that I did not go to the Bureau of the Guardians? She had no way of knowing that I was ill and could not.... And despite all this....”

“No! After all that happened! After I had shown her so openly how I felt about her! Besides, how could she know I hadn’t gone to the Bureau of the Guardians? She had no way of knowing I was ill and couldn’t go.... And despite all this....”

A dynamo was whirling and buzzing in my head. Buddha ... yellow ... lilies-of-the-valley ... rosy crescent.... Besides,—besides, O- wanted to come to see me today! I am sure she would not believe (how could one believe), that I had absolutely nothing to do with the matter, that ... I am sure also that we (O- and I) will have a difficult, foolish and absolutely illogical conversation. No, anything but that! Let the situation solve itself mechanically; I shall send her a copy of this official communication.

A dynamo was spinning and buzzing in my head. Buddha ... yellow ... lilies-of-the-valley ... rosy crescent.... Besides, O- wanted to visit me today! I am sure she would not believe that I had absolutely nothing to do with the matter. How could anyone believe it? I am also sure that O- and I will have a difficult, foolish, and completely illogical conversation. No, anything but that! Let the situation sort itself out mechanically. I will send her a copy of this official communication.

While I was hastily putting the paper in my pocket, I noticed my terrible ape-like hand. I remembered how that day during our walk, she took my hand and looked at it. Is it possible that she really ... that she....

As I hurriedly put the paper in my pocket, I noticed my terrible, ape-like hand. I remembered how she had taken my hand and looked at it during our walk that day. Could she really have ... could she....

A quarter to twenty-one. A white northern night. Everything was glass,—greenish. But it was a different kind of glass, not like ours, not genuine but very breakable,—a thin glass shell and within that shell things were flying, whirling, buzzing. I should not have been surprised if suddenly the cupola of the auditorium had risen in slow, rolling clouds of smoke; or if the ripe moon had sent an inky smile,—like that one at the little table this morning; or if in all the houses suddenly all the curtains had been lowered and behind the curtains....

A quarter to twenty-one. A white northern night. Everything was made of glass, greenish glass. But it was a different kind of glass, not like ours. It was not genuine and was very fragile. It was a thin glass shell, and inside it things were flying, whirling, buzzing. I would not have been surprised if the auditorium’s dome had suddenly risen in slow, rolling clouds of smoke. Or if the ripe moon had flashed an inky smile, like the one at the little table this morning. Or if all the curtains in all the houses had suddenly been lowered, and behind the curtains....

I felt something peculiar; my ribs were like iron bars that interfered, decidedly interfered, with my heart, giving it too little space. I stood at a glass door on which were the golden letters I-330; I-330 sat at the table with her back to me; she was writing something. I stepped in.

I felt something strange. My ribs were like iron bars, getting in the way of my heart, definitely getting in its way. They left it too little room. I stood at a glass door with the golden letters I-330 on it. I-330 sat at the table with her back to me, writing something. I stepped inside.

“Here....” I held out the pink check, “... I received the notification this noon and here I am!”

“Here....” I held out the pink check. “... I got the notification at noon, and here I am!”

“How punctual you are! Just a minute please, may I? Sit down. I shall finish in a minute.”

“You’re right on time! Just a minute, please, may I? Sit down. I’ll be finished in a minute.”

She lowered her eyes to the letter. What had she there, behind her lowered curtains? What would she say? What would she do in a second? How to learn it? How to calculate it, since she comes from beyond, from the wild ancient land of dreams? I looked at her in silence. My ribs were iron bars. The space for the heart was too small.... When she speaks her face is like a swiftly revolving, glittering wheel; you cannot see the separate bars. But at that moment the wheel was motionless. I saw a strange combination: dark eyebrows running right to the temples—a sharp, mocking triangle; and still another dark triangle with its apex upward—two deep wrinkles from the nose to the angles of the mouth. And these two triangles somehow contradicted each other. They gave the whole face that disagreeable, irritating X, or cross; a face obliquely marked by a cross.

She lowered her eyes to the letter. What was hidden behind those lowered curtains? What would she say? What would she do the next second? How could I know? How could I calculate it, when she came from beyond, from the wild ancient land of dreams? I looked at her in silence. My ribs were iron bars. There was too little room for my heart.... When she speaks, her face is like a swiftly spinning, glittering wheel. You cannot see the separate spokes. But at that moment the wheel was still. I saw a strange combination. Her dark eyebrows ran all the way to her temples, forming a sharp, mocking triangle. Two deep lines ran from her nose to the corners of her mouth, forming another dark triangle with its point upward. Somehow, the two triangles contradicted each other. They gave her whole face that unpleasant, irritating X, a cross. Her face was marked by a slanting cross.

The wheel started to turn; its bars blurred.

The wheel began to turn. Its bars blurred.

“So you did not go to the Bureau of Guardians after all?”

“So you didn’t go to the Bureau of Guardians after all?”

“I did ... I did not feel well ... I could not.”

“I did ... I didn't feel well ... I couldn't.”

“Yes? I thought so; something must have prevented you, matters little what (sharp teeth—a smile). But now you are in my hands. You remember: ‘Any Number who within forty-eight hours fails to report to the Bureau is considered....’”

“Yes? I thought so. Something must have prevented you. It hardly matters what (sharp teeth, a smile). But now you're in my hands. You remember: ‘Any Number who fails to report to the Bureau within forty-eight hours is considered....’”

My heart banged so forcibly that the iron bars bent. If I were not sitting ... like a little boy, how stupid! I was caught like a little boy and stupidly I kept silent. I felt I was in a net; neither my legs nor my arms....

My heart pounded so hard that the iron bars bent. If I weren’t sitting ... like a little boy, how stupid! I was caught like a little boy, and I stupidly kept quiet. I felt trapped in a net. Neither my legs nor my arms....

She stood up and stretched herself lazily. She pressed the button and the curtains on all four walls fell with a slight rustle. I was cut off from the rest of the world, alone with her.

She stood up and stretched lazily. She pressed the button, and the curtains on all four walls fell with a soft rustle. I was cut off from the rest of the world, alone with her.

She was somewhere behind me, near the closet door. The unif was rustling, falling. I was listening, all listening. I remembered,—no, it glistened in my mind for one hundredth of a second,—I once had to calculate the curve of a street membrane of a new type. (These membranes are handsomely decorated and are placed on all the avenues, registering all street conversations for the Bureau of Guardians.) I remembered a rosy concave, trembling membrane,—a strange being consisting of one organ only, an ear. I was at that moment such a membrane.

She was somewhere behind me, near the closet door. Her unif rustled as it fell. I was listening, all listening. I remembered something, or rather, it flashed through my mind for a hundredth of a second. I had once had to calculate the curve of a new type of street membrane. (These membranes are beautifully decorated and placed on all the avenues. They record all street conversations for the Bureau of Guardians.) I remembered a pink, concave, trembling membrane, a strange creature with only one organ, an ear. At that moment, I was such a membrane.

Now the “click” of the snap-button at her collar, at her breast, and ... lower. The glassy silk rustled over her shoulders and knees, over the floor. I heard—and this was clearer than actual seeing—I heard how one foot stepped out of the grayish-blue heap of silk, then the other.... Soon I’d hear the creak of the bed and ...

Now the snap buttons “clicked” at her collar, her breast, and ... lower. The glassy silk rustled over her shoulders and knees, then across the floor. I heard one foot step out of the grayish-blue heap of silk, then the other.... Hearing it was clearer than actually seeing it. Soon I’d hear the bed creak and ...

The tensely stretched membrane trembled and registered the silence,—no, the sharp hammer-like blows of the heart against the iron bars and endless pauses between beats. And I heard, saw, how she, behind me hesitated for a second, thinking. The door of the closet.... It slammed; again silk ... silk....

The tightly stretched membrane trembled and registered the silence. No, it registered the sharp, hammer-like blows of the heart against the iron bars, and the endless pauses between beats. I heard and saw her hesitate behind me for a second, thinking. The closet door.... It slammed. Again silk ... silk....

“Well, all right.”

“Well, all right.”

I turned around. She was dressed in a saffron-yellow dress of an ancient style. This was a thousand times worse than if she had not been dressed at all. Two sharp points, through the thin tissue glowing with rosiness, two burning embers piercing through ashes; two tender, round knees....

I turned around. She wore an old-fashioned, saffron-yellow dress. It was a thousand times worse than if she had been naked. Two sharp points glowed pink through the thin fabric, like two burning embers piercing through ashes. Two soft, round knees....

She was sitting in a low armchair. In front of her on a small square table, I noticed a bottle filled with something poisonously green and two small glasses on thin legs. In the corner of her mouth she had a very thin paper tube; she was ejecting smoke formed by the burning of that ancient smoking substance whose name I do not now remember.

She was sitting in a low armchair. On a small square table in front of her, I noticed a bottle filled with a poisonous green liquid and two small stemmed glasses. She held a very thin paper tube in the corner of her mouth. She was blowing out smoke from an ancient smoking substance burning inside it. I no longer remember the substance’s name.

The membrane was still vibrating. Within the sledge-hammer was pounding the red-hot iron bars of my chest. I heard distinctly every blow of the hammer, and ... what if she too heard it?

The membrane was still vibrating. Inside me, a sledgehammer was pounding the red-hot iron bars of my chest. I could hear every blow clearly, and ... what if she could hear them too?

But she continued to produce smoke very calmly; calmly she looked at me; and nonchalantly she flicked ashes on the pink check!

But she kept smoking calmly. She looked at me calmly and casually flicked ashes onto the pink check!

With as much self-control as possible I asked, “If you still feel that way, why did you have me assigned to you? And why did you make me come here?”

Trying as hard as I could to stay calm, I asked, “If you still feel that way, why did you have me assigned to you? And why did you make me come here?”

As if she had not heard at all, she poured some of the green liquid from the bottle into a small glass and sipped it.

As if she hadn't heard at all, she poured some of the green liquid into a small glass and sipped it.

“Wonderful liqueur! Want some?”

“Great liqueur! Want some?”

Then I understood; alcohol! Like lightning there came to memory what I saw yesterday: the stony hand of the Well-Doer, the unbearable blade of the electric ray; there on the Cube, the head thrown backward, the stretched-out body! I shivered.

Then I understood: alcohol! In a flash, I remembered what I had seen yesterday: the Well-Doer's stone hand, the unbearable blade of the electric ray. There on the Cube was the body, stretched out, its head thrown back! I shivered.

“Please listen,” I said, “You know, do you not, that any one who poisons himself with nicotine, more particularly with alcohol, is severely treated by the United State?”

“Please listen,” I said. “You know that the United State treats anyone who poisons themselves with nicotine, and especially alcohol, severely, don’t you?”

Dark brows raised high to the temples, the sharp mocking triangle.

Dark eyebrows rose high toward the temples, a sharp, mocking triangle.

“‘It is more reasonable to annihilate a few than to allow many to poison themselves.... And degeneration,’ ... etc.... This is true to the point of indecency.”

“‘It makes more sense to kill a few than to let many poison themselves.... And degeneration,’ ... etc.... This is true to the point of indecency.”

“Indecency?”

“Indecency?”

“Yes. To let out into the street such a group of bald-headed naked little truths. Only imagine please. Imagine, say, that persistent admirer of mine, S-, well, you know him. Then imagine: if he should discard the deception of clothes and appear in public in his true form ... oh!” She laughed. But I clearly saw her lower, sorrowful triangle; two deep grooves from the nose to the mouth. And for some reason these grooves made me think: that double-curved being, half-hunched, with wing-like ears,—he embraced her? her, such ... Oh!

“Yes. To let a group of bald, naked little truths loose on the street. Just imagine. Take that persistent admirer of mine, S-, you know him. Now imagine if he threw off the disguise of clothing and appeared in public as he really is ... oh!” She laughed. But I could clearly see the sad triangle of her lower face, the two deep lines running from her nose to her mouth. And for some reason, those lines made me think: that double-curved creature, half-hunched, with ears like wings, had embraced her? Her, so ... Oh!

Naturally, I try now merely to express my abnormal feelings of that moment. Now, as I write, I understand perfectly that all this is as it should be; that he, S-4711, like any other honest Number has a perfect right to the joys of life and that it would be unjust.... But I think the point is quite clear.

Of course, I am only trying to describe the abnormal feelings I had at that moment. Now, as I write, I understand perfectly that everything is as it should be. S-4711, like any other honest Number, has every right to the joys of life, and it would be unfair.... But I think the point is clear enough.

I-330 laughed a long, strange laugh. Then she cast a look at me, into me.

I-330 laughed a long, strange laugh. Then she looked at me, into me.

“The most curious thing is that I am not in the least afraid of you. You are such a dear, I am sure of it! You would never think of going to the Bureau and reporting that I drink liqueurs and smoke. You will be sick or busy, or I don’t know what.... Furthermore, I am sure you will drink this charming poison with me.”

“The strangest thing is that I’m not afraid of you at all. You’re such a dear, I’m sure of it! You’d never think of going to the Bureau and reporting that I drink liqueurs and smoke. You’ll be sick or busy, or I don’t know what.... Besides, I’m sure you’ll drink this lovely poison with me.”

What an impertinent, mocking tone! I felt definitely that in a moment I should hate her. (Why in a moment? In fact I hated her all the time.)

What a rude, mocking tone! I was sure I would hate her in a moment. (Why in a moment? I hated her all the time.)

I-330 turned over the little glass of green poison straight into her mouth. Then she stood up, and all rosy through the translucent saffron-yellow tissue, she made a few steps and stopped behind my chair.... Suddenly her arms were about my neck ... her lips grew into mine, no, even somewhere much deeper, much more terribly.... I swear all this was very unexpected for me. That is why perhaps ... for I could not (at this moment I see clearly) I could not myself have the desire to....

I-330 tipped the little glass of green poison straight into her mouth. Then she stood up. Her skin looked rosy through the sheer saffron-yellow fabric. She took a few steps and stopped behind my chair.... Suddenly her arms were around my neck ... her lips joined with mine, no, somewhere much deeper, much more terribly.... I swear all of this was very unexpected for me. That is why, perhaps ... because I could not (I see it clearly now) I could not have wanted to do it myself....

Unbearably sweet lips. (I suppose it was the taste of the liqueur.) It was as though burning poison were being poured into me, and more and more....

Unbearably sweet lips. (I suppose the sweetness came from the liqueur.) It was as if burning poison were being poured into me, more and more....

I tore away from the earth and began revolving as an independent planet,—down—down—following an uncalculable curve....

I broke away from the earth and began revolving like an independent planet, down, down, along a curve that could not be calculated....

What happened next I am able to describe only in an approximate way, only by way of more or less corresponding analogies.

I can only describe what happened next roughly, using comparisons that are more or less accurate.

It never occurred to me before but it is true: we who live on the earth, we are always walking over a seething red sea of fire which is hidden in the womb of the earth. We never think of it. But imagine the ground under our feet suddenly transformed into a thin glass shell; suddenly we should behold...!

It never occurred to me before, but it is true: we who live on earth are always walking over a churning red sea of fire hidden deep inside the earth. We never think about it. But imagine the ground beneath our feet suddenly turning into a thin glass shell. Suddenly we would see...!

I became glass-like and saw within myself. There were two selves in me. One, the former D-503, Number D-503; and the other.... Before, that other used only to show his hairy paws from time to time, but now the whole other self left his shell. That shell was breaking, and in a moment....

I became like glass and could see inside myself. There were two selves in me. One was the old D-503, Number D-503. And the other.... Before, the other self had only shown his hairy paws from time to time. But now he had come all the way out of his shell. The shell was breaking, and in a moment....

Grasping with all my strength the last straw (the arms of the chair), I asked loudly (so as to hear my first self), “Where, where did you get this poison?”

I clutched the chair arms with all my strength, as if they were my last straw. I asked loudly, so I could hear my first self, “Where, where did you get this poison?”

“Oh, this? A physician, one of my....”

“Oh, this? A doctor, one of my....”

“‘One of my! one of my’ what?” And my other self jumped up suddenly and yelled: “I won’t allow it! I want no one but me.... I shall kill any one who.... Because I.... You.” ... I saw my other self grasp her rudely with his hairy paws, tear the silk, and put his teeth in her flesh!... I remember exactly, his teeth!...

“‘One of my! one of my’ what?” Suddenly, my other self jumped up and yelled: “I won’t allow it! I don’t want anyone but me.... I’ll kill anyone who.... Because I.... You.” ... I saw my other self grab her roughly with his hairy paws, tear the silk, and sink his teeth into her flesh!... I remember exactly, his teeth!...

I do not remember how, but I-330 slipped away and I saw her straightened, her head raised high, her eyes overlain by that cursed impenetrable curtain. She stood leaning with her back against the closet door and listening to me.

I don't remember how, but I-330 slipped away. I saw her standing straight, her head held high, that cursed, impenetrable curtain covering her eyes. She leaned back against the closet door and listened to me.

I remember I was on the floor; I embraced her limbs, kissed her knees and cried supplicatingly, “At once, right away, right away.”

I remember being on the floor. I held her legs, kissed her knees, and begged, “At once, right away, right away.”

Sharp teeth.... The sharp mocking triangle of the brows.... She bent over and in silence unbuttoned my badge.

Sharp teeth.... Eyebrows forming a sharp, mocking triangle.... She bent over and silently unbuttoned my badge.

“Yes, yes, dear—dear.”

“Yes, yes, dear, dear.”

I began hastily to remove my unif. But I-330, silent as before, lifted my badge to my eyes, showing me the clock upon it. It was twenty-two-twenty-five.

I quickly began to take off my unif. But I-330, still silent, held my badge up to my eyes. She showed me the clock on it. It was 22:25.

I became cold. I knew what it meant to be out in the street after twenty-two-thirty. My insanity disappeared at once. I was again I. I saw clearly one thing: I hated her, hated her, hated— ... Without saying good-bye, without looking back, I ran out of the room. Hurriedly trying to fasten the badge back in its place, I ran down the stairs (I was afraid lest some one notice me in the elevator), and jumped out into a deserted street.

I went cold. I knew what it meant to be out on the street after 10:30 p.m. My madness vanished at once. I was myself again. One thing was clear: I hated her, hated her, hated her... Without saying goodbye or looking back, I ran out of the room. I hurried down the stairs, trying to pin my badge back in place. I was afraid someone might notice me in the elevator. Then I ran out into a deserted street.

Everything was in its place; life so simple, ordinary, orderly. Glittering glass houses, pale glass sky, a greenish, motionless night. But under that cool glass something wild, something red and hairy, was silently seething. I was gasping for breath but I continued to run, so as not to be late.

Everything was in its place. Life was so simple, ordinary, and orderly. Glass houses glittered beneath a pale glass sky in the greenish, motionless night. But beneath that cool glass, something wild, red, and hairy was silently seething. I was gasping for breath, but I kept running so I wouldn’t be late.

Suddenly I felt that my badge which I had hurriedly pinned on, was detaching itself; it came off and fell to the sidewalk. I bent over to pick it up and in the momentary silence I heard somebody’s steps. I turned. Someone small and hunched was disappearing around the corner. At least so it seemed. I started to run as fast as I could. The wind whistled in my ears. At the entrance of my house I stopped and looked at the clock; one minute to twenty-two-thirty! I listened; nobody behind. It was my foolish imagination, the effect of the poison.

Suddenly, I felt the badge I had hurriedly pinned on coming loose. It came off and fell onto the sidewalk. I bent down to pick it up. In the brief silence, I heard someone’s footsteps. I turned. Someone small and hunched was disappearing around the corner. At least, that was how it seemed. I started running as fast as I could. The wind whistled in my ears. At the entrance to my house, I stopped and looked at the clock. One minute to ten thirty! I listened. No one was behind me. It was my foolish imagination, the effect of the poison.

The night was full of torture. My bed seemed to lift itself under me, then to fall again, then up again! I used autosuggestion: “At night all the Numbers must sleep; sleeping at night is a duty just like working during the day. To sleep at night is necessary for the next day’s work. Not to sleep at night is criminal.” Yet I could not sleep—I could not. I was perishing! I was unable to fulfill my duties to the United State! I....

The night was torture. My bed seemed to rise beneath me, then fall, then rise again! I tried autosuggestion: “At night all the Numbers must sleep. Sleeping at night is a duty, just like working during the day. Sleep is necessary for the next day’s work. Not sleeping at night is a crime.” Yet I could not sleep. I could not! I was dying! I could not fulfill my duties to the United State! I....