The Seed of Evil

Perfect Love

The chorus soared, gongs sang. Fluttering flags, flying streamers, a snowstorm of rose petals; in the midst of the celebration the huge drum-shaped ship climbed from the launch stadium slowly, its ascension engines shimmering in the clear afternoon air. People waved from the windows and galleries of the departing drumship, and as its curved, flower-emblazoned walls slid upwards, the crowd let out a roar of acclaim.

Then the drumship was gone, surging towards some far star. Watching in a nearby tower, Lian Li shared the mass elation that floated to him across the park, and he felt as though his heart had leaped skywards along with the vast mass.

The spectacle was over. Lian Li left the balcony where he had stood and turned into the tower block. Lian Li: eighteen years old, preliminary education completed, second-year student in the College of Stellar Exploration. His skin was light, with a very slightly yellow hue. His hair was fair, touched with red, his eyes shaded between blue and grey. On reaching the refectory he looked around him. Others had watched the take-off from various parts of the tower and now were drifting in. Some of Lian Li’s classmates were there, collecting bottles of fizzy fruit drink from the dispenser. With them Lian Li was pleased to see a girl he had known two or three years previously: Antan, who, he had heard, had recently returned from a drumship mission to Altair.

He collected a drink and joined the group at a table, contriving to take a seat next to Antan’s. Chu Shram, a dark-skinned youth with frizzy black hair, spoke to him. “Did you see the launch?”

Lian Li nodded. The other was enthusiastic. “What a terrific sight. They always are, aren’t they? Have you read the lists lately? There are some marvellous projects being put forward.”

“Yes, I know. I was looking at them yesterday.”

Antan began to describe the mission to Altair. A real prize had been discovered: a planet that could become an Earth-type habitat with only minor reforming. The drumship team had even instituted the first few chemical processes needed for a change of atmosphere. Lian Li listened captivated, first of all by her story but also by the vivacity of the girl herself. She would be twenty-two years old, he calculated. She still had four years before….

His knee accidentally brushed hers under the table; he became uncomfortably aware of her voluptuous body. She, however, gave no sign of having noticed the contact.

The talk turned to other projects. An observer from prerevolutionary times, had he magically been able to eavesdrop, might have been struck by the complete absence of negative feeling in the young people present. The degree of geniality, the atmosphere of general good-will, would have seemed abnormal to him; it was as if the whole party would at any moment burst into spontaneous applause. But alongside this, he would have been struck by a tremendous sense of energy, of readiness to face and overcome problems of all kinds.

Lian Li moved marginally closer to Antan. “Tell me, is it true there’s a scheme afoot to tap the energy of an entire star?”

Her eyes widened. “Why, yes! It’s the most talked-about thing in Star Project. Alpha Centauri has been picked for it, provisionally. But if it works it will only be a pilot project. Think what it would mean—power unlimited! The ability to terraform practically any planet, to build new planets, to move stars about—you name it.”

There was a good-humoured laugh from Wilboro, a member of Lian Li’s class. “It’s always useful to have yet more power to draw on, I’ll say that. But if you ask me cosmic flight is the thing we should all be working for.”

There were smiles. Wilboro adhered to a school of thought in which “cosmic flight”, as it was called, was almost an obsession. To people of his persuasion spaceflight within the galaxy—or even within the local galactic group, which would not be long in coming now—was scarcely spaceflight at all. In the same way they regarded all local projects—Mars and Venus made habitable, the Earth turned into a veritable paradise—as no more than routine. What they were aiming for was a method of transport that could take men to the limit of the Hubble Sphere and beyond.

After a while the discussion broke up. When the group began to disperse Lian Li loitered near Antan, trying to think of something to say.

She turned to him. “Are you going to join a star project when you’ve finished here, Lian Li?”

“Probably, Antan. But first I might stay in Solsystem for a while. I’ve got interested in submersible work. I’ve already been to one of the subatlantic mines. Next I want to look at the ocean project on Mars.”

“There’s bound to be some submersible work on the second Altair mission. Why don’t you apply for that?”

“Will you be on it?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll be going. I’ve got some pictures I took out there. Would you like to see them?”

“Thank you, I would.”

“Come on, they’re in my apartment.”

He followed her along the corridors of the college, watching her hips swinging beneath her simple gown and feeling a hot excitement which vaguely distressed him. He tried to suppress this feeling, but it was like a tide: it came on and on.

The holos she showed him were gorgeous. He gazed from orbit on the new planet glowing in the light of Altair. He looked on weird landscapes, vast mountains, muddy oceans and great caverns.

“No oxygen in the air yet,” she told him. “We were really lucky: only some anaerobic biology in the sea, and nothing on land. We can transplant the entire Terran biosystem.”

Lian Li knew the problem. As a rule Earth-type planets were already possessed of their own biosystems, which would have to be swept away if terraforming was to take place. Even though none found so far had produced an intelligent species, there were still qualms about exterminating an entire biota.

Rising, she turned her back to him to place the holos in a drawer. Lian Li also rose. As she bent to the small task the nape of her neck was presented to him. Her hair was caught up in a fillet and only stray blonde strands floated loose. Lian Li had but to bend towards her and press his lips to the warm, delicious curve, placing his hands on her hips….

Flushed and unhappy, he withheld the urge. He was already in enough trouble on that score.

She straightened, turning to him with a bright smile. “Well. Maybe we’ll be working on Altair III together.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, trying not to sound flustered.

Shortly he left and walked to his own apartment in the same building. He stood by his living room window, looking out. He had a good view of the city: buildings interspersed with parks and small woods. If he liked he could tune the window to any of thousands of alternative views piped from around the world. Lian Li, however, preferred to see the here-and-now.

His apartment, like all those in the college’s residential section, was tailored to meet the needs of a single young person. It had a calculated amount of psychological space—large enough to be a real domain, and to entertain in, but small enough to be controllable with little effort. He could furnish and decorate it however he wished, but actually he had left it unchanged since the day he moved in. Rearranging his living quarters was not something that readily occurred to him.

Running the length of one wall was a shelf lined with books. Lian Li took a volume from it, sat down at the table and began to read.

Also on that shelf was a volume to be found in every home in the commonalty. Had Lian Li opened it at a certain page, he could could have read:

“The history of revolution has been a story of repeated effort in which many mistakes were made. Early revolutions were almost entirely economic in their concerns, and even with this limited goal several painful experiments were necessary—several revolutions—before unrestricted access to the economic commonwealth became available to every citizen, both as producer and user, and the impediments to the growth of wealth were removed.

“With the material problem solved, it began to become evident that there were other sources of human suffering than economic inequity. Even when disease and physical disfigurement had been entirely overcome, it could not be said that the perfect society had been created. Emotional unhappiness stemming from frustration, disappointment and general unfulfilment remained rife.

“Revolutionists therefore turned their attention to areas of emotional distress. In this, the natural human desire for happy personal relationships loomed large, and most grief was, at that time, due to the desire for relationships having a sexual element. Revolutionists came to feel deep indignation over the very real sufferings caused by unreciprocated love, and thwarted desire generally, especially as these deprivations were borne by some and not by others.

“The final revolution, then, was psychological in character. Its aim was to eradicate emotional suffering, particularly in the field of personal relationships.

“In this it was successful.

“Success had been due in part to important discoveries that were made during the course of the revolution. The first of these is that human types are highly specific in their permutations, and that attraction between human beings is also highly specific. It was found that while a person might feel attracted in various degrees to countless other people he met in the course of his life, there existed for him, on a world-wide basis, only a very small number of the opposite sex who would inspire in him total love, total fascination and total commitment. In pre-revolutionary society a citizen would sometimes meet with one of this small number, though this was by no means universal. For this love to be reciprocated, however, for the other person to be inspired in the same degree, required a double coincidence that was of a very low order of probability. When rare encounters of this kind did occur, therefore, those involved could be counted fortunate in the extreme.

“Following the revolution, however, the science of psychic typing made it possible to bring such perfect lovers together as a deliberate social act. When this practice began to become established a second discovery was made: children born to such unions are more talented and are much better balanced mentally than children born to the commonplace pre-revolutionary union. This is only partly due to their being raised by a couple who are supremely happy with one another. In greater measure it springs from the transference phenomenon, whereby the feelings experienced by the parents during love-making help determine what sort of individual will result from fertilisation. The transference phenomenon was entirely unknown in pre-revolutionary times, when it was always assumed that the outcome of conception was independent of the emotional relationship of the parents or of the quality of their lovemaking.

“It is now an established fact that an individual conceived in an atmosphere of perfect love is born with harmonious mental qualities irrespective of upbringing. Such an individual is also less wayward in his sexual desires. Gradually it came to be realised that the obsessive, indiscriminate and turbulent sexuality which was a feature of pre-revolutionary times need not be a normative state for humanity, but is more properly a perversion of the sexual function brought about by wrong social conditions. Not only did these impulses lead to unhappiness, but it was shown that they seriously interfered with the development of creative ability by reason of the constant mental distraction they caused.

“Before this disease of the natural feelings was eradicated it became the practice, when a citizen wished his mind to remain undisturbed, for him to take a sex suppressant drug. This measure proved particularly popular among those engaged on projects requiring sustained intellectual effort, and it was often adopted continuously between the ages of twenty to twenty-five, when the mind is at its most vigorous and most inventive. A vast increase in the incidence of genius resulted from this practice. Today, it is unnecessary. The modern person does not think of sexual activity at all except in the context of perfect and mutual love. Any other kind of sexual activity would strike him as coarse and unattractive. At the age of twenty-six he is introduced to a perfectly compatible partner and a deep love affair invariably develops between the two, wholly fulfilling and nearly always lifelong.

“The present-day member of the commonalty is a full inheritor of life’s gifts, by reason both of inborn qualities and of social influences, and the perfect society has now been established. The modern person is naturally loving and compassionate towards others—his children, his colleagues, and all with whom he has dealings—and therefore does not spread unhappiness among his fellows. Alongside this, we are in the midst of an upsurge in creative endeavour unparalleled at any time in history, and which we can be confident will continue indefinitely; there seems no limit to what can be achieved.

“A related feature of the perfect society is that the gap between individual and social goals which was apt to dislocate the accord of former eras has closed. The individual now makes very little distinction between group goals and his own aspirations; to him they are identical, and he is able to express his creative powers in true liberated fashion, without any inner contradictions.”

Lian Li found he could not concentrate on the text he was studying, which was a handbook on conditions at the bottom of the Atlantic. Like fish in a murky pond, uncontrolled thoughts and feelings flitted through his mind, forming unexpected associations.

Feeling disturbed and restless, he abandoned the struggle. For a while he watched the afterglow of the sunset through the broad window of his living room, until he was aroused by a gentle ringing tone from the wall telset.

Swivelling his seat, he touched a silver tab. A friendly young face, male, fair-haired and blue-eyed, greeted him. The caller was, he said, a serving member of the Number Five District Community Committee. It was imperative that representatives of the Committee visit Lian Li as soon as possible. When would be the earliest occasion convenient for Lian Li?

“It is convenient now,” Lian Li answered. He paused, and forced himself to say: “Is it about what happened last week?”

“In part, yes.”

Lian Li’s heart beat a trifle faster, but he kept his voice level. “All right. I’ll expect you.”

He switched off the screen and swivelled back to face the window. Vaguely he had hoped that Won Muong would not report his behaviour, even while knowing it was inevitable that she should. It was, after all, only citizenship.

He did not move until the door tone sounded twenty minutes later. Rising, he admitted his visitors: a youth and two girls, all of his own age group. The face on the telset had belonged, he learned, to Chairman Christian of the 5 DCC 25 subgroup, into whose jurisdiction the Stellar College fell. Chairman Christian politely introduced his colleagues: Ching Rowena and Pam Elkend.

In his apprehension Lian Li scarcely retained their names. He invited them to be seated but only the girls did so, taking themselves to the far end of the room.

“We are here to deal in facts, Lian Li,” Chairman Christian began cordially as Lian Li replaced himself in his swivel chair. “One week ago you visited the apartment of Won Muong. While there you laid hands on her, first on the knee, and then on the breast, and then you kissed her on the lips. She tells us that this kiss could not be interpreted as merely a brotherly or friendly kiss. You then made advances to her of an even more improper nature, attempting to initiate genital intercourse before she made her displeasure plain. Can we first of all agree on the truth of this?”

Lian Li frowned. “Very well.”

Chairman Christian nodded. He was no less cheerful as he went on: “Following Won Muong’s report, the DCC deemed it advisable to investigate your past history. First of all, it emerges that your behaviour displays a pattern of concupiscence. When asked, several young females have described incidents where your conduct seemed, in their words, odd and over-familiar. They mention your tendency to seek bodily contact, sometimes by an act of ‘friendly’ fondling, sometimes by what they suspect to be contrived accident. Always these acts are too ambiguous for their import to be clear.”

“In that case perhaps these stories could not be relied on,” Lian Li ventured uncertainly.

Dark-haired Ching Rowena, wearing a lavender smock, spoke up. “Is this not the crux of the matter, Lian Li? Do you deny that you frequently harbour sexual thoughts concerning the females you meet?”

Lian Li’s voice fell to a mutter. “No, I won’t deny it,” he said. He gazed deep into the brown, almost black eyes of Ching Rowena, momentarily losing himself, and finally he fancied she shifted uneasily in her seat. He tore his gaze away.

“Well, you know about me, then. I suppose I should have reported my urges before, but somehow….” He shrugged. “What happens now? Am I to take remedial treatment?”

For the first time there was an air of embarrassment in the room. Chairman Christian spoke, his tone serious and almost diffident. “The news we bring you is grave, Lian Li. It becomes a matter of maintaining the condition of the commonalty.”

“Well, yes, but….” Lian Li’s composure began to falter. “What do you mean?”

“More investigations have been undertaken. It was necessary to know if anything in your personal life has caused your deviation. When all other possibilities were excluded, the circumstances of your birth came under scrutiny, and your mother was questioned. At first she withheld the truth. But eventually she was persuaded to disclose a fact she has kept hidden up until now. A fact relating to your conception.”

Chairman Christian’s voice became warm and sympathetic, and while Lian Li listened dumbfounded, he said: “It is my duty to tell you something unfortunate, Lian Li. You were not conceived in perfect love. It appears that you owe your existence to a brief and secret liaison prompted by what once used to be known as a ‘glandular eruption’. In other words its object was the gratification of a frenzied and purely physical desire, described by your mother as ‘compulsive and irresistible’.

“Your mother has never until now revealed this episode, Lian Li. Not to her local DCC, nor to her spouse, whom you mistakenly believe to be your natural father—though his ignorance cannot be corroborated, as he died some years ago in a diving accident when the Atlantic mines were first being opened up.”

Lian Li nodded absently. Chairman Christian went on: “I don’t need to remind you that the feelings of the parents during intercourse directly affect the offspring’s psychic tendencies. The emotional atmosphere at your conception was one of atavistic passion. This, we regret to say, is undoubtedly the source of your deviation.”

There was silence. They were giving him time to absorb the largest, most unexpected and most unwelcome fact in his life. At last he shook his head slowly, as if in bewilderment.

“You are telling me that I am a throwback.”

“In the sense that the urges troubling you are congenital, yes. The misfortune, I need hardly add, is likely to be passed on to your own offspring.”

“Then… what is to be done?” repeated Lian Li blankly.

Chairman Christian tilted his head and smiled, cheerful again. “Half a century ago you could have taken a pill to rid you of these desires. But that is not countenanced now. The time for artificial measures has gone, and vigilance is our only watchword. We cannot allow the old taints to re-establish themselves, for indiscriminate sexuality jeopardises the revolutionary goal. It reduces ability and brings personal unhappiness.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Lian Li said. He was puzzled. “But what is expected of me?”

Ching Rowena spoke again. “Isolation from the commonalty is the only remedy we have now, Lian Li. Let me explain. Other cases like yours occasionally arise. There is an island where such people can live out their lives together. Sterilisation is mandatory, of course, since the aim of the island is to make regressive traits a genetic dead end.”

Lian Li reflected. “This island is a place of exile for people like me?”

Ching Rowena nodded.

“And how many live there?”

“Something less than a thousand, I believe.”

“My mother…?”

“She has already arrived.”

The silence this time was even longer, until Chairman Christian spoke up. “Some part of you will resist this policy, Lian Li. But think! The perfect society has been achieved—now it has only to be preserved! Civilisation is advancing at full speed, and nothing should be allowed to hinder it. After all, there is none of us so wretched that he would not sacrifice himself for the revolution. And that is why this policy decision has been taken. It is a full commonalty decision.”

Pam Elkend spoke for the first time. The smock she wore was similar to Ching Rowena’s, but of a pale orange colour matching her hair. “You will be more contented among people whose desires match your own, Lian Li. In normative society you can only suffer frustration.”

“Yes, lacking the medications that once would have been available,” Lian Li answered dryly. He did not pursue the thought. “But you need not try to console me. The issue is clear.”

He stood up. Chairman Christian stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We were confident we would find you in agreement, Lian Li, though we know how unpleasant this is for you. When we imagined ourselves in your place, we knew full well what our own response would be.”

Lian Li nodded, his face pale. The two girls rose, their smocks clinging artlessly to their nubile bodies.

“When…?” Lian Li queried.

“When it is convenient,” Chairman Christian said quietly. “We would suggest tomorrow, or the day after. Simply come to 5 DCC office so that transport can be arranged.”

Alone again, Lian Li stood dazedly at the window. His mind was blank, unresponsive to his will, yet at the same time like a screen on which images from his past processed without any prompting from him.

When visiting Won Muong, an intense fondness for her, mingled with physical excitement, had become overwhelming. Physical contact with her had given him pleasure before, as it had with others; but as with others, he could not be sure whether her lack of reaction was a signal that he could proceed further, or whether it simply indicated an obliviousness of his caresses. For the first time he had steeled himself to take the plunge. But, it transpired, her initial acquiescence had been only bewilderment.

Were such feelings, so delightful and piercing, truly a cause for banishment? Suddenly it seemed inexplicable to him that he had hitherto avoided any inner debate on his deviant urges, had scarcely admitted to himself that they even existed.

He took a grip on himself and tried to assess his new situation. An observer from pre-revolutionary society, magically observing the proceedings, might have noted with puzzlement the cheerfulness of Lian Li’s just-departed visitors, even when engaged on a regrettable task. He might have been puzzled, too, by Lian Li’s lack of shame or embarrassment. He might eventually have concluded, correctly, that once the centre of gravity of human psychology came to reside in collective harmony, then all self-centred emotions became redundant.

The rightness of the commonalty decision was, for Lian Li, self-evident. Night had fallen. Over the city he could see lights ascending, glowing hazy lights that were transports to other continents and other planets. To his left a spreading glow came from the direction of the launch stadium. A new drumship was being moved in for fitting out, only hours after the departure of the last one.

In an island population of only a few hundred, Lian Li was unlikely to find the great revolutionary promise of perfect love. He would be deprived of his birthright. But Lian Li gave that only half a thought. Everywhere the commonalty was on the move; progress was unstoppable. Lian Li thought of the soaring music, the joyous chorus, the fluttering banners, the giant drumships surging starwards. And when he thought of all that, and of everything that was being done and that would be done, and from which he was now to be entirely excluded, his heart nearly broke, he sobbed, and tears burst from his eyes.