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06 - Anthem - Ayn Rand · Science Fiction Books - Daily

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  Chapter six. We have not written for thirty days. For thirty days we
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  have not been here in our tunnel. We had been caught. It happened
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  on that night when we wrote last. We forgot that night to watch the
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  sand and the glass which tells us when three hours have passed and it's time
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  to return to the city theater. When we remembered the sand had run out,
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  we hastened to the theater, but the big tent stood gray and silent
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  against the sky. The streets of the city lay before us, dark and
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  empty. If we went back to hide in our tunnel, we would be
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  found in our light with us. So we walked to the home of the
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  street sweepers. When the council of the home questioned us, we looked upon
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  the faces of the council, but there was no curiosity in those faces,
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  and no anger, and no mercy. So when the oldest of them asked,
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  where have you been, we thought of our glass box and of our
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  light, and we forgot all else, and we answered, we will not
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  tell you. The oldest did not question us further. They turned to the
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  two youngest and said, and their voice was bored, take our brother equality
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  two five two one to the Palace of Corrective Detention, lash them until they
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  tell so. We were taken to the stone room under the Palace of Corrective
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  Detention. This room has no windows, and it is empty save for an
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  iron post. Two men stood by the post, naked for leather aprons and
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  leather hoods over their faces. Those who had brought us departed, leaving us
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  to the two judges who stood in a corner of the room. The judges
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  were small, thin men, gray and bent. They gave the signal to
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  the two strong hooded ones. They tore our clothes from our body. They
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  threw us down upon our knees, and they tied our hands to the iron
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  post. The first blow of the lash felt as if our spine had been
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  cut in two. The second blow stopped the first, and for a second
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  we felt nothing. Then pain struck us in our throat, and fire ran
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  in our lungs without air, but we did not cry out. The lash
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  whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, but we
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  lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our back. Only
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  we felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancing before
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  our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill,
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  a grill of red squares. And then we knew that we were looking at
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  the squares of the iron grille in the door, And there was also the
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  squares of the stone on the walls, and the squares which the lash was
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  cutting upon our back, crossing and recrossing itself in our flesh. Then we
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  saw a fist before us. It knocked our chin up, and we saw
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  the red froth of our mouth on the withered fingers, and the judge asked,
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  where have you been? But we jerked our head away, hit our
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  face upon our tied hands, and bit our lips. The lash whistled again.
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  We wondered who was sprinkling burning coal dust upon the floor, for we
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  saw drops of red twinkling on the stones around us. Then we knew nothing
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  save two voices, snarling steadily, one after the other, even though we
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  knew that they were speaking many minutes apart. Where have you been? Where
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  have you been? Where have you been? Where have you been? And
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  our lips moved, but the sound trickled back in our throat, and the
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  sound was only the light, the light, the light. Then we knew
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  nothing. We opened our eyes, lying on our stomach on the brick floor
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  of a cell, we looked upon two hands lying before us on the bricks,
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  and we moved them, and we knew that they were our hands,
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  but we could not move our body. Then we smiled, for we thought
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  of the light and that we had not betrayed it. We lay in our
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  cell for many days. The door opened twice each day, once for the
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  men who brought us bread and water, and once for the judges. Many
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  judges came to our cell, first the humblest and then the most honored judges
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  of the city. They stood before us in their white togas, and they
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  asked, are you ready to speak? But we shook our head, lying
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  before them on the floor, and they departed. We counted each day and
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  each night as it passed then to night, we knew that we must escape,
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  for tomorrow the World Council of Scholars is to meet in our city.
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  It was easy to escape from the Palace of Corrective Detention. The locks are
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  old on the doors, and there are no guards about. There is no
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  reason to have guards, for men have never defied the councils so far as
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  to escape from whatever place they were ordered to be. Our body is healthy,
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  and strength returns to it speedily. We lunged against the door, and
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  it gave way. We stole through the dark passages, and through the dark
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  streets, and down into our tunnel. We lit the candle, and we
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  saw that our place had not been found, and nothing had been touched,
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  And our glass box stood before us on the cold oven, as we had
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  left it. What matter they now the scars upon our back. Tomorrow,
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  in the full light of day, we shall take our and leave our tunnel
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  open, and walk through the streets to the home of the scholars. We
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  shall put before them the greatest gift ever offered to men. We shall tell
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  them the truth. We shall hand to them as our confession these pages we
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  have written. We shall join our hands to theirs. We shall work together
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  with the power of the sky for the glory of mankind. Our blessing upon
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  you, our brothers. Tomorrow you will take us back into your fold,
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  and we shall be an outcast no longer. Tomorrow. We shall be one
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  of you again Tomorrow. End of chapter six