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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of DPxxxx, by Arthur Dekker Savage
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: DP
+
+Author: Arthur Dekker Savage
+
+Illustrator: Paul Orban
+
+Release Date: October 21, 2009 [EBook #30305]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DP ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                           _Illustrated by Paul Orban_
+
+DP
+
+    _Once upon a time life was perfection. Government made sure its
+    citizens were supplied with every comfort and pleasure. But
+    sometimes perfection breeds boredom and ..._
+
+BY ARTHUR DEKKER SAVAGE
+
+
+Allen Kinderwood slowed his pace so his forelock would quit bobbing. The
+damn thing wasn't supposed to bob; it was supposed to be a sort of
+peaked crest above rugged, handsome features--a dark lock brushed
+carelessly aside by a man who had more important things to do than fuss
+with personal grooming. But no matter how carefully he combed it and
+applied lusto-set, it always bobbed if he walked too fast.
+
+But then, why should it matter now? He wasn't looking for a woman
+tonight. Not when his appointment with the Social Adjustment counsellors
+was tomorrow morning, and he would get a Departure Permit. _Should_ get
+one, he corrected himself. But he had never heard of a petition for a DP
+being refused.
+
+He wanted to spend his last night in the city over here in the main park
+of C Sector, walking in the restless crowds, trying to settle his
+thoughts. He moved through slow aimless eddies of brightly appareled
+citizens, avoiding other pedestrians, skaters and the heavy,
+four-wheeled autoscooters. Everything was dully, uncompromisingly the
+same as in his own sector, even to the size and spacing of the huge,
+spreading trees. He had hoped, without conviction, that there might be
+some tiny, refreshing difference--anything but the mind-sapping
+sameness that had driven him to the petition.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Allen was careful not to brush against any girl with an escort. Since he
+wasn't on the make, what would be the use of fighting? Kind of an odd
+feeling, though, to know you'd never date or fight again, or ... Or
+what? What else was there to do, if you hadn't the luck to be a jobman
+or a tech? You ate, and slept, and preened, and exercised, and found
+what pleasure you could, and fought mostly because it was momentarily
+stimulating, and, eventually, after a hundred and fifty years or so, you
+died.
+
+Unless you were a tech. If you were a tech, Government gave you stuff to
+keep you alive longer. A jobman got a somewhat different deal--he got
+nothing to keep him alive abnormally, because ninety percent of Earth's
+population was waiting for his job anyway.
+
+Allen skirted a huge fountain throwing colored, scintillant spray high
+into the dark summer sky, stealing a glance backward over his shoulder.
+That girl was still behind him. Following him? It wouldn't be anything
+new, in his case--especially in his own sector--but maybe she just
+happened to be going his way.
+
+It would be easy to find out. He circled the fountain twice. With her
+looks she should have been picked up before she'd left her compartment
+building block--except that whoever got her might have to fight more
+than once during the evening to hold her. Definitely a young man's
+darling.
+
+And, the way it began to look, definitely Allen's darling. On the second
+trip around, she had backtracked to meet him face to face--her purpose
+obvious.
+
+He tried to dodge, but there was no way it could be done without insult.
+Damn....
+
+"Hi, brute. Nedda Marsh. Alone?" She ran soft hands along the hard
+biceps under his short jacket sleeves. The motion threw open her
+shriekingly bright orange cloak, displaying saucy breasts, creamy
+abdomen and, beneath her brief jeweled skirt, long smooth thighs. And
+the perfume assailed his nostrils with almost physical force.
+
+"Hi, Nedda. Allen Kinderwood. Alone, natch." Natch, hell. But what could
+any male do to combat Government perfume? He smiled, his pulse suddenly
+quickening. "Date, darling?" She _was_ a beautiful thing.
+
+Her large, sparkling eyes showed pleasure. "Take me, Al." She touched
+vivid red lips lightly against his. And the formula was complete.
+Private citizens Allen Kinderwood and Nedda Marsh were dated at least
+until dawn--or a better man did them part.
+
+He squeezed her arm where she'd snuggled it against his side, starting
+with her away from the fountain. "How come the most gorgeous thing in
+Kansas City wasn't dated earlier?"
+
+She looked up at him, and the passion in her gaze made his heart skip
+like a teener's. "Could be I'm very particular, darling, but," her look
+was suddenly beseeching, "the truth is, I'm protected."
+
+A slow, tiny fire of distaste fanned itself alive in Allen's brain. Why
+in the name of World Government did every other girl who made first play
+with him have to be protected? But there was his out. By unwritten
+social code he could declare the date off. Except that he had grown to
+increasingly hate the spiteful practice of 'protection'. It meant Nedda
+had peeved some local lothario who, along with other males in his
+clique, was going to damn well see she wasn't intimate with anyone else
+until she begged another date with the original one. If you had a
+sadistic turn of mind, it meant you could keep a delectable bit in
+freeze until her natural inclinations forced her into your arms. But
+you'd have to fight any man who tried to date her in the meantime.
+
+Fighting was legal, of course, as long as the loser was surgically
+repairable, and it was considered a normal catharsis for strained
+relationships between males.
+
+Not, Allen thought glumly, that he had any stake in the future of
+frantically weary society, but he had reached the conclusion long ago
+that a man without the courage to back up his personal convictions
+wasn't worth the energy it took to down him.
+
+He stopped and held Nedda against him protectively. "I still want the
+date, sprite," he said. "I have to leave early tomorrow, but I'll try
+to get you out of protection--okay?"
+
+Her lips trembled. "Oh, yes. If you knew how it's been, these last few
+days--"
+
+He shook her again, but more tenderly. "Deal. We'll try to reach your
+compartment." Living quarters were a sanctuary no one but a medic could
+legally enter without invitation. He removed his stainless
+identification plaque and slipped its chain about her throat. "If you
+see any of the guys who're watching for you, tell me but don't look at
+them." He took her arm again and alertly began to work through the
+throng. "Describe your protector."
+
+"Jeff Neal-Hayne. He's big, Al. Bigger than you. Heavier, but you've got
+muscles like he never saw. You look faster, too."
+
+Allen didn't know him, but the name was revealing. Not that anything but
+your Earth society number was official, but use of a double surname
+meant your father had elected to stay with your mother for at least a
+while after you were born. Most babies, of course, were immediately
+turned over to a Government creche, but it had always seemed to Allen
+that kids raised by one or more parents had other advantages too,
+although he had never been able to figure out just what they were. Maybe
+it was only his imagination.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the edge of the park they chose the nearest double scooter which
+showed full battery charge.
+
+Allen leaned against the forward rail. "Herd it, will you, Nedda? Every
+time I think of the hundreds of hours I've spent plowing air with one of
+these gut-weighted things I want to break one. Hell, I can run faster.
+Anyway, you know where we're going."
+
+The girl smiled, pushed the power lever into forward range and steered
+into slow-moving traffic. "I saw a man lift a single, once, but that's
+all he was able to do with it."
+
+The lighted street seemed intensely bright after the dimmer reaches of
+the park. "Ever think of running one into the river?"
+
+She looked at him in amazement. "Fright, no. Why--you'd have to drive
+along a pedestrian path for at least a block to reach the bank!" Nedda
+spun the steering wheel to avoid a long string of solemn teeners playing
+follow the leader on singles. "You have funny thoughts, Al."
+
+"I'm laughing." He flexed his muscles, impatient, as usual, with another
+citizen's sluggish mentation. "I suppose the damn music never gets on
+your nerves, either?"
+
+"Music? Oh--the music." She listened as though for the first time to the
+muted strains which played continuously throughout the city--calming,
+soothing, lulling. "Of course not. Why should it?"
+
+"They've got it synchronized," said Allen. "Government's got it
+synchronized so you hear it just the same volume no matter where you are
+outside. You _have_ to listen to it."
+
+"Darling, your boredom's showing."
+
+He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't let me spin you, lovely. I've
+got the answer."
+
+"Oh?"
+
+"Yeah. I applied for a DP this morning."
+
+"Al--_no_!"
+
+"Why not?" He put it like the needle thrust of a fighting knife, daring
+her to find a reason, half hoping she could.
+
+"I--" She glanced at him once, quickly, then away. Then she drew a deep
+breath and let it sigh out. "How about Mars, Al? There aren't many
+service machines, and they even let women do lots of little detailed
+things. I almost went, once."
+
+He was watching her shrewdly. "Why didn't you?" He had fought this one
+out with himself before.
+
+"Oh--I don't know. Just never did."
+
+"I'll tell you why you really didn't. It'd be too different. When the
+Government provides every convenience, every comfort you can think of
+here, you can't stand having to work in a mine, with an oxygen helmet,
+stuffed into heavy clothes. You can't stand the danger and the fear--and
+somehow, inside, you must know it. I'm pretty strong, and I never met a
+man I was afraid of, but I know I couldn't stand Mars." He gripped the
+rail and stared out over the wide, swarming street. "But Earth is a
+trap, Nedda. A big comfortable trap where you walk around endlessly
+without being any use at all."
+
+She trod the brake and barely missed bumping a couple who had stopped to
+embrace. "_I'm_ some use, hon. Wait'll we get home." Her eyes held a
+promise she could barely restrain.
+
+Automatically, he caressed her with a practiced hand--and grabbed the
+wheel when she suddenly strained against him, trembling, pressing eager
+lips against his neck.
+
+Christ, how long had she been protected? He felt a mounting anger
+against the social ennui which drove men's minds to such inhuman
+activity. Departure was the only escape from this kind of thing, and
+from the city--from any city.
+
+But the Departees had always been only a tiny minority. Did that mean
+they--and he--were wrong? He brooded about it for seemingly the googolth
+time, guiding the scooter without conscious thought, turning as Nedda
+directed.
+
+A trap, he'd told her. Well, he could see no reason to change that. The
+blazingly glorious sensotheaters, cafes, gymnasiums, dancing salons,
+amusement rides and hypnodream houses, crowding every main thoroughfare
+with their fantastically ornate architecture, were--when you thought
+about it--designed to trap people's minds, keep them from thinking of
+anything but a gossamer, useless pursuit of personal pleasure. And
+wasn't the design faulty when everyone was bored, when some chose
+Departure and others sank to the unnatural practice of protection to
+whet their sated appetites?
+
+Nor was there any apparent hope for the future. Theatre productions,
+dream tapes, even the elaborate home teleview shows were all historical.
+Why? Was Government admitting there was nothing but staleness in the
+present? Why the concern with backtime?
+
+Because of Government entertainment diet, Allen could probably, with a
+bit of practice, fish skillfully from an outrigger, make and use a
+longbow expertly, run a store profitably in the Money Ages, weave cloth
+correctly, build complete wooden houses--oh, any number of ancient
+things.
+
+But he couldn't even talk the same language as the relative handful of
+trained men who built and operated the unbelievably intricate
+robomachinery which activated and maintained the complex cities of
+Earth.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nedda's soft voice broke into his thoughts. "Al--Dan Halgersen's coming
+up behind us on a single. He's one of Jeff's--"
+
+"Hold on." Allen swung the scooter hard right and adroitly darted across
+traffic toward an emblazoned theatre entrance. Here, now, was a
+situation he knew how to deal with. He said rapidly, out of the side of
+his mouth, "Jump off when I stop at the entry and kiss me like good-by.
+Register your plaque in the ID slot and head for the door--then look
+back. If I'm down, go on in and lose yourself. If he's down, come back."
+
+He made a wrenching stop at the very edge of the crowd, swung Nedda
+through the opening between front and side rails and gave her a hard,
+sterile kiss.
+
+She clung to him a moment. Without letting her eyes stray she said,
+"Slowing down right behind you. Luck, lover." Then she turned and
+started to pick her way across the walk.
+
+Allen swung the scooter in a fast, tight circle to the left. Assuming
+his opponent to be right-handed, this would help avoid a knife slash
+from the rear if the other rammed his scooter--further assuming the man
+had _not_ been tricked into thinking his presence was unnoticed.
+
+He hadn't. When Allen whipped his head around to look at him, there was
+barely time to brake the heavier double to avoid a shrewdly planned
+collision. Halgersen, Nedda had said. He was thick-set, with heavy brows
+and large jaw. The type Allen had learned to associate with power and
+endurance but not too much speed.
+
+Halgersen was holding a knife in his right hand. Allen quickly slipped
+his own blade from the sheath conveniently held at the front of his
+belt. They cut intricate patterns of feint, attack and withdraw, using
+passing vehicles as buffers. But not for long.
+
+A voice from the crowd called, "Fight!" and space grew miraculously
+about the combatants, leaving a huge clearing in the street rimmed
+solidly with scooters and pedestrians. A few shouts of encouragement
+began to be heard as individuals selected one or the other of the men as
+a likely winner.
+
+Allen dodged a sudden attempt at a side-swipe collision and the
+attendant vicious swipe of Halgersen's blade--and then drew first blood
+by a lightning riposte to the arm. Legal knife target was arm, leg,
+abdomen and a forehead cut without thrust--which would obscure vision
+with blood without doing organic damage.
+
+The bright yellow luminescence of a police copter dropped and hovered as
+Allen tried to follow up his momentary advantage. The scene, he knew,
+would now be simultaneously filmed for possible legal record and
+broadcast on all teleview news programs. Entertainment for adults,
+education for the teeners.
+
+A feminine voice in the front ranks called, "Two stunts to one on green
+jacket!" and was immediately taken up by another girl near by.
+
+He had little time to think with satisfaction that no female had ever
+been forced to pay off a bet of some ingeniously embarrassing public
+behavior on his account. Halgersen was now trying to maneuver him for a
+straight ram which would bring them definitely together. He wasn't being
+weakened by the slow drip of blood from his arm and he didn't seem to be
+bothered by pain.
+
+And then they were close to the circle rim. Allen swung his scooter so
+the cooling downdraft from the copter--coming from above the center of
+the cleared area--was directly against his back, a method he had devised
+for knowing his position without having to take his eyes from a close
+opponent. He let his shoulders droop suddenly, as though he was tired,
+and at the murmur of disappointment from many onlookers he began to back
+slowly away from Halgersen.
+
+The blue-jacketed figure rolled into the trap scowling. He tried again
+for a head-on ram. Allen let him come, and at the last possible instant,
+when Halgersen would be unable to reverse, stop, or even swerve, he
+flipped the bar to full power ahead. And braced himself accordingly.
+
+The scooters met with a bone-jarring thud of perimeter rubber. Halgersen
+was hurled neatly over his own guard rail to land gaspingly across
+Allen's.
+
+Allen grasped the back of the other's belt in a grip that had dismayed
+many a combatant, hauled him into position and hamstrung both legs with
+two dextrous thrust-and-cut movements. It took but a moment longer to
+leap above a desperate slash at his own legs, drag the heavier man to
+the thick floor of the scooter and render him unconscious with a
+stamping kick of one sandaled heel. It left an easy repair job for the
+medics, but would keep one Dan Halgersen from fighting again for more
+than a week--and maybe make him think twice about joining in another
+protection pact.
+
+Allen leaped up and balanced on two guard rails while the police copter
+settled down to pick up Halgersen. He signaled Nedda to move on along
+the walkway.
+
+While the onlookers were clapping approval of the show, he removed
+Halgersen's plaque, leaped down and dodged an attempted kiss from the
+girl who had given odds on him--glancing back warily in case her escort
+felt insulted--then pushed through the mob to join Nedda.
+
+She hugged his arm ecstatically. "Darling, every woman should have a guy
+like you."
+
+"Yeah." He felt no sense of triumph. It had happened too many times
+before. Everything had happened too many times before--repetitive,
+palling and purposeless. He tucked the won plaque into her decorative
+belt. It was Nedda's proof that protection was ended, and Halgersen
+would have to call for it accompanied by a witness.
+
+"Where the hell is your place?" he asked. For a moment he wondered why
+he didn't just turn abruptly and leave her, social mores
+notwithstanding. Then Nedda's perfume began its chemical magic again,
+and he carefully straightened his jacket and set his forelock in its
+proper place.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Nedda," he accused lazily, "you're a nymph. Ever tried
+psychoconditioning?"
+
+She gave him a tender, lingering kiss and burrowed more comfortably in
+his arms. "Not yet, darling. Would you prefer me less--responsive?"
+
+Allen patted her as carefully as possible to show approval without
+arousing her again. "No man would. But it must be rough between dates,
+isn't it?" And just why should he be worrying about anyone else at this
+stage of the game? Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just curious now that
+it no longer mattered.
+
+She avoided his eyes in the cool semigloom of the compartment.
+"I--usually manage to have enough dates. Until some moron like
+Neal-Hayne puts me under protection."
+
+He disengaged himself gently, rolled off the pliant couch and increased
+the room's light with the wall knob. "You should register a complaint,
+Nedda. After three he'll be forcibly psyched, you know." He dialed the
+servoconsole and focused a morning meal menu on the viewscreen. "Ready
+for breakfast, pip?"
+
+"Mmm--if you are." Nedda came over and lifted the phone from its panel
+recess. "That number six algal protein is supposed to be a new taste
+sensation. Like?"
+
+He shrugged. "Let's try it. It'll be my last go at this robot feed."
+
+When the meals had been deposited in the service chute she looked at him
+pleadingly. "Hon, why don't _you_ try being psyched? They could make you
+satisfied with--things as they are."
+
+Allen lifted a thin transparent food cover while he shook his head.
+"Maybe they could, Nedda. But it would have to be almost total erasure
+to change my slant on everything, and being forced to accept what I hate
+is worse than anything else I can think of. It wouldn't be me when they
+got through. Whatever causes me to think like I do is the _me_, and
+that'd be gone."
+
+Some of the resentful animosity surged up in him and he had to talk
+about it. "Look at your compartment. The same as every other single in
+the city--or any city. The walls are the shade of green that's best for
+the eyes. Furniture and fixtures are always the same colors. Every
+compartment has a servoconsole to condition the air, control the
+temperature and humidity, bring you food or any other standard service,
+provide teleview shows, music or requests. You could live your life
+inside this square hole. Everybody has everything and nothing means
+anything--can't you see that?"
+
+She came around the table and sat on his lap with her head against his
+neck. "No, presh, but if you'll change your mind about a DP you can date
+me any time, always. I'd like to share a double with you forever."
+
+He traced soothing circles on her smooth back with his fingertips.
+"That's the closest I've ever come to _owning_ anything," he mused.
+
+"But, hon, Government owns everything and takes care of everything. When
+you can always use a thing, how could it be better if you owned it?"
+
+Allen held her against him tightly, fighting the old fight to find
+words. How could you explain how you _felt_ things to be right or wrong,
+without really knowing the reasons?
+
+"Maybe," he said slowly, "it's as though I wanted to keep you for myself
+alone. But Nedda, if another man made the right approach, could you
+refuse him?" After a minute he repeated, "Could you?"
+
+Eventually, she made two answers.
+
+They were warm and wet and dropped onto his chest.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Adjustment Building was a soaring, chastely white structure of
+silicoid plastic, dazzling in the hot morning sun. It crossed Allen's
+mind fleetingly that everything built nowadays would long outlast the
+builders. That seemed right, but he didn't know why.
+
+He took his ID plaque from Nedda and kissed her. He had tried to
+dissuade her from coming with him, but she had merely smiled and held
+his arm and urged him toward a double scooter.
+
+"This is it, beautiful," he said shortly, at the entrance. And, with an
+attempt at levity, "Don't take any more protection." Actually, what
+could you say? He went inside quickly, without looking back.
+
+At the door marked _Kansas City Department of Social Adjustment_, he
+slipped his plaque into the correct slot for a moment and was admitted
+directly to the waiting room for those who had appointments for the day.
+
+There was only one other waiting--a handsome blond youth whose knife was
+new. Allen sat down in a lounge chair across the room.
+
+And Nedda came in and sat down beside him.
+
+He could have understood almost anything but that. "How in the name of
+fear--"
+
+"Do you think," she said mischievously, taking his hand, "the B Sector
+champ is the only one who can get an appointment?"
+
+Before it could more than flash through Allen's mind that he'd not told
+her that, the blond youth was standing before them, his eyes hotly on
+Nedda. Then, obviously confused that she was already holding hands, he
+addressed himself to Allen as though it was what he had intended doing.
+
+"Marty Bowen, sir. Uh--I'm going to see if they'll let me have a double
+compartment with some gym apparatus in it." He shifted his weight to the
+other foot and hung a thumb nervously in his belt, unable to keep from
+darting glances at Nedda.
+
+Allen noted, with rising anger and some other unpleasant emotion he
+couldn't define, that she hadn't dropped her eyes. He said curtly.
+"Fine, kid--hope you make it." The youth mumbled something else and went
+back to his chair.
+
+He had barely seated himself when a voder speaker crooned a number
+melodiously. With a quick backward glance at Nedda, the blond lad went
+on into the counsel room.
+
+Allen's mind remained in confusion, shot through with anger at himself
+that he should waste thoughts now on anything but the coming interview.
+The room was beginning to fill quietly with others.
+
+His number was called a few minutes later.
+
+And Nedda's was called along with it.
+
+Well--the place to get the answer was the counsel chamber. He got up
+slowly, barely noticing that Nedda continued to hold his hand as they
+went in.
+
+The brilliant room was two stories high, with fluted walls and no
+windows. Obviously the size was to impress interviewees. But why should
+they have to be impressed? Wasn't the wisdom of the five tech doctors
+sufficient by itself? Wasn't it?
+
+He sat in a chair indicated by the dark-skinned one, and listened while
+the very old one in the center talked to Nedda.
+
+Had dating the B Sector park champion solved her difficulty with the man
+she had reported? Fine. It was the second such report about him in a
+year--the other also coming from a girl who was highly sexed. Did Nedda
+not consider herself to have a problem which required psychoconditioning?
+No? Well, perhaps in later years, when her beauty and her mind were
+somewhat changed.... No, there would seem to be no justification for
+giving her a compartment in another sector, unless she had persuaded the
+champion or another to share a double with her. Would that be all? Much
+happiness to her.
+
+Abruptly, Allen realized Nedda had left and that the frail old man was
+talking to him.
+
+"... unusual to have joint interviews without a more definite emotional
+tie, but we felt you would like to know how you had rendered civic aid."
+
+So pitting him without choice against any of several men was their idea
+of civic aid. No wonder he'd met so many protected girls in the past.
+This time, they'd harnessed Nedda's restless passion to the task of
+dissuading him from a DP. Very neat.
+
+It made him feel better to know they'd failed where he was concerned,
+and his resentment abated somewhat. He said, "Glad I could help,"
+careful to keep his voice emotionless. Then, determined to have no
+further subtleties, "If I can have my departure permit, I won't trouble
+you further."
+
+Maybe his approach wasn't right, but all they could do would be to
+refuse him. In which case there were other ways--and the hell with
+legality.
+
+"We hope," smiled the old doctor benignly, "there may be another way.
+Perhaps, if we discuss your problem, we can find a solution which won't
+cost the city a handsome young citizen."
+
+Allen made it a direct attack. "Why should the city miss any citizen? In
+fact, what good is the city itself--what good is any city?"
+
+And almost, the techs seemed startled. But a younger one said easily, "A
+city, Mr. Kinderwood, permits a maximum of efficient service and
+pleasure, with a minimum of waste and discomfort."
+
+Allen leaned back and stubbornly folded his arms. "I've had enough of
+pleasures and comforts without meaning, and I've nothing to do, and it
+doesn't look like anyone's making any progress anywhere. Even on the
+planets they're just repeating backtime stuff with modern equipment."
+
+The old man waved a hand at the others and looked at Allen intently. His
+voice was softly insistent. "The one continuous thread in human history
+has been the seeking of more pleasure and greater comfort for all
+members of the race. Our technology gives us a maximum of both. No one
+labors, and the few who work prefer to do so. No one is diseased, no one
+stays in pain longer than the time necessary to reach a medic. Everyone
+can have everything he needs, without striving and without debt. And as
+technology advances, there will be even greater benefits for all. What
+more can be done to make the citizens of Earth happy?"
+
+For the first time, Allen felt confused. "I don't know," he said slowly.
+"The way you put it, it sounds right. But where does it all lead? What
+reason have I got for living? What reason does the human race have for
+surviving?"
+
+The sociologist looked even older. "In all seriousness, sir, can you
+answer the questions you have just asked?" His eyes were expectant--but
+there didn't seem to be much hope reflected in their depths.
+
+Allen noted a tenseness around the table. Why were they asking him for
+answers they were supposed to know? Or was it another of their
+subtleties?
+
+"No," he said curtly, "I don't know the answer to any of them. Has it
+got a bearing on my getting a DP?"
+
+The central figure sighed. "None at all." He pressed several tiny
+buttons on the polished table and an inscribed card rose halfway out of
+a slot. "We merely hope that some day a man will come along who can tell
+us--before someone who may not be a man comes along and makes the
+answers futile." He handed Allen the card. "Here is your permit. You may
+take it to the third office south on the corridor through that door. We
+don't feel it is the answer to your problem, but we admit we don't--"
+
+"Pardon me, sir," interrupted Allen. He wet his lips. "Did you say
+'someone who may _not be a man_'?"
+
+"Yes. It is an aspect you have not considered, Mr. Kinderwood." The
+sociologist's face seemed haggard. "Even a few generations ago, Earth as
+it is today would have seemed like a concept of heaven. We know now it
+is not enough, but we don't know why. Perhaps, if we can reach the stars
+the problem will cease to be critical. By the same token, life from the
+stars may come here first.
+
+"We have no remotest idea what such an eventuality would entail. It may
+provide a solution. It may quite conceivably send man back to the
+forests and jungles.
+
+"You have experienced our only answer to the latter possibility. While
+providing man with everything to which he has aspired for milleniums, we
+instill in him, through the media of entertainment, knowledge of all the
+survival practices known to the backtimers who painfully nurtured
+civilization from an embryonic idea to its present pinnacle. We can do
+no more."
+
+Allen flexed his arms involuntarily at the sheer enormity of the idea.
+It was one thing to let a useless race expire, quite another to think of
+its being forced back to-- "But--can't anyone think of anything else to
+do?"
+
+"Whoever is capable of devising anything else," the old doctor said
+resignedly, "will undoubtedly be able to carry it out with or without
+our assistance." He pressed more buttons and there was a muted sound of
+the voder calling a number. "The exit over there, Mr. Kinderwood.
+And--much happiness."
+
+Allen's thoughts swirled in tumultuous confusion. Dimly, he realized
+that man had outstripped himself, and saw with intense bitterness that
+there was no answer on Earth for any ordinary citizen. Or was there? And
+if there was, was it worth trying to find? He flung open the door to the
+corridor violently, as though the force could quiet his mind. Maybe, if
+he didn't use the permit, he could stay and figure out an answer. Nedda
+would be sympathetic and patient while-- And then he stopped. Across the
+wide hallway, Nedda stood beneath a window, looking at him. And the
+blond youth held her with flushed understanding, impatiently waiting,
+caressing her arm with his hand, binding her to him with the one bond
+she could not break.
+
+She watched Allen start slowly down the corridor. Once, when he
+stumbled, she gave a stifled sob, and tears brimmed and spilled silently
+when he passed through the door marked _Kansas City Department of
+Euthanasia_.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_
+    September 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+    the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling
+    and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of DP, by Arthur Dekker Savage
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DP ***
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