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

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Anthem by Anne Ran, chapter one. It is a sin to write this.
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It is a sin to think words no others think, and to put
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them down on a paper no others are to see. It is base and
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evil. It is as if we are speaking alone to no ears but our
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own. And we know well that there is no transgression blacker than to do
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or think alone. We have broken the laws. The laws say that men
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may not write unless the Council of Vocations bid them. So may we be
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forgiven. But this is not the only sin upon us. We have committed
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a greater crime. And for this crime there is no name. What punishment
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awaits us if it be discovered, we know not, for no such crime
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has come in the memory of men, and there are no laws to provide
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for it. It is dark here. The flame of the candle stands still
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in the air. Nothing moves in this tunnel save our hand on the paper.
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We are alone here under the earth. It is a fearful word alone.
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The laws say that none among men may be alone, ever and at
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any time, for this is the great transgression and the root of all evil.
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But we have broken many laws, and now there is nothing here save
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our one body and it is strange to see only two legs stretched on the
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ground, and on the wall before us the shadow of our one head.
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The walls are cracked, and water runs upon them in thin threads, without
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sound, black and glistening as blood. We stole the candle from the larder
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of the home of the street sweepers. We shall be sentenced to ten years
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in the palace of corrective detention if it be discovered. But this matters not.
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It matters only that the light is precious, and we should not waste
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it to write when we need it for that work, which is our crime.
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Nothing matters save the work, our secret, our evil, our precious
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work. Still we must also write, for may the council have mercy upon
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us. We wish to speak for once to no ears, but our own.
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Our name is equality seven two five two one, as it is written
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on the iron bracelet which all men wear on their left wrist, with their
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names upon it. We are twenty one years old. We are six feet
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tall, and this is a burden, for there are not many men who
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are six feet tall. Ever, have the teachers and leaders pointed to us
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and frowned and said, there is evil in your bones? Equality seven two
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five two one. For your body has grown beyond the bodies of your brothers.
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But we cannot change our bones nor our body. We were born with
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a curse has always driven us to thoughts which are forbidden. It has always
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given us wishes which men may not wish. We know that we are evil,
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but there is no will in us and no power to resist it.
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This is our wonder and our secret fear, that we know and do not
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resist. We strive to be like all of our brother men, for all
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men must be alike. Over the portals of the Palace of the World Council,
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there are words cut in marble which we are required to repeat to ourselves
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whenever we are tempted. We are one and all, and all in one.
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There are no men but only the Great We one, indivisible and forever.
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We repeat this to ourselves, but it helps us not. These words
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were cut long ago. There is a green mold in the grooves of the
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letters, and yellow streaks on the marbles, which come from more years than
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men could count. And these words are truth, for they are written on
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the Palace of the World Council, and the World Council is the body of
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all truth. Thus has it been ever since the Great Rebirth, and farther
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back than that no memory can reach. But we must never speak of the
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times before the Great Rebirth, else we are sentenced to three years in the
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palace of corrective attention. It's only the old ones who whisper about it.
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In the evenings, in the home of the useless, they whisper many strange
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things, of the towers which rose to the sky in those unmentionable times,
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and of the wagons which moved without horses, and of the lights which burned
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without flame. But those times were evil, and those times passed away when
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men saw the great truth, which is this, that all men are won,
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and that there is no will save the will of all men. Together,
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all men are good and wise. It is only we equality seven two
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five two one, we alone who were born with a curse, for we
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are not like our brothers. And as we look back upon our life,
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we see that it has ever been thus, and that it has brought us,
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step by step to our last supreme transgression, our crime of crimes.
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Hidden here under the ground, we remember the home of the infants, where
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we lived till we were five years old, together with all the children of
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the city who had been born in the same year. The sleeping halls there
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were white and clean and bare of all things save one hundred beds. We
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were just like all our brothers. Then, save for one transgression, we
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fought with our bathers. There were few offenses blacker than to fight with our
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brothers at any age and for any cause whatsoever. The counsel of the home
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told us so, And of all the children of that year, we were
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locked in the cellar most often. When we were five years old, we
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were sent to the home of the students, where they were ten wards for
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our ten years of learning. Men must learn till they reached their fifteenth year.
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Then they go to work in the home of the students. We arose
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when the big bell rang in the tower, and we went to our beds.
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When it rang again, before we removed our garments, we stood in
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the great sleeping hall, and we raised our right arms, and we sat
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all together with the three teachers at the head. We are nothing mankind is
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all by the grace of our brothers, or we allowed our lives. We
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exist through by and for our brothers, who are the state Amen. Then
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we slept the sleeping halls were white and clean and bare of all things save
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one hundred beds. We Equality seven two five two one were not happy in
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those years in the home of the students. It was not that the learning
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was too hard for us. It was that the learning was too easy.
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This is a great sin to be born with a head which is too quick.
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It is not good to be different from our brothers, but it is
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evil to be superior to them. The teachers told us so, and they
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frowned when they looked upon us. So we fought against this curse. We
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tried to forget our lessons, but we always remembered. We tried not to
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understand what the teachers taught, but we always understood it before the teachers had
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spoken. We looked upon Union five three nine nine two, who were a
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pale boy with only half a brain, and we tried to say and do
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as they did, that we might be like them, like Union five three
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nine nine two. But somehow the teachers knew that we were not, and
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we were lashed more often than all the other children. The teachers were just
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for they had been appointed by the councils, and the counsels are the voice
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of all justice, for they are the voice of all men. And if
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sometimes, in the secret darkness of our heart we regret that which befell us
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on our fifteenth birthday, we knew that it was through our own guilt we
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had broken a law, for we had not paid heed to the words of
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our teachers. The teachers had said to us, all, dare not choose
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in your mind the work you would like to do. When you leave the
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home of the students, you shall do what the Council of Vocations shall prescribe
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for you. The Council of Vocation knows in its great wisdom where you are
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needed by your brother men, better than you can know it in your unworthy
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little minds. And if you are not needed by your brother men, there
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is no reason for you to burden the earth with your bodies. We knew
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this well in the years of our childhood. But our curse broke our will.
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We were guilty, and we confessed it here. We were guilty of
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the great transgression of preference. We preferred some work and some lessons to others.
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We did not listen well to the history of the councils elected since the
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Great Rebirth, but we loved the science of things we wish to know.
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We wish to know about all the things which make the earth around us.
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We ask so many questions that the teachers forbade it. We think that there
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are mysteries in the sky and under the water, and in the plant which
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grow. But the Council of Scholars has said that there are no mysteries.
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And the Council of Scholars knows all things. And we learned much from our
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teachers. We learned that the earth is flat, and that the sun revolves
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around it, which causes the day and night. We learned the names of
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all the winds which blow over the seas and push the sails of our great
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ships. We learned how to bleed men, to cure them of all ailments.
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We loved the science of things. And in the darkness, in the
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secret hour, when we awoke in the night, and there were no brothers
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around us, but only their shapes in the beds and their snores, we
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closed our eyes, and we held our lips shut, and we stopped our
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breath, that no shudder might let our brothers see or hear or guess.
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And we thought that we wished to be sent to the home of the scholars
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when our time would come. All of the great modern inventions come from the
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home of scholars, such as the newest one, which was found only one
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hundred years ago, of how to make candles from wax and string, also
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how to make glass, which is put in our windows to protect us from
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the rain. To find these things, the scholars must study the earth and
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learn from the rivers, from the sands, from the winds and the rocks.
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And if we went to the home of scholars, we could learn from
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these. Also we could ask questions of these, for they do not forbid
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questions, and questions give us no rest. We know not why our curse
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makes us seek. We know not whatever and ever, but we cannot resist
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it. It whispers to us that there are great things on this earth of
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ours, that we must know them. We ask why must we know?
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But it has no answer to give us. We must know that we may
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know. So we wished to be sent to the home of scholars. We
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wished it so much that our hands trembled under the blankets in the night,
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and we bit our arm to stop that other pain which we could not endure.
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It was evil, and we dared not face our brothers in the morning,
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for men may wish nothing for themselves, and we were punished when the
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Council of Vocations came to give us our life mandates, which tell those who
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reached their fifteenth year what their work is to be for the rest of their
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days. The Council of Vocations came in on the first day of spring,
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and they sat in the Great Hall, and we who were fifteen, and
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all the teachers came into the Great Hall, and the Council of Vocations sat
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on a high dais, and they had but two words to speak to each
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of the students. They called the students' names, and when the students stepped
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before them, one after another, the council said carpenter or doctor, or
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cook or leader. Then each student raised their right arm and said, the
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will of our brothers be done. Now. If the council said carpenter or
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cook, the students so assigned go to work and do not study any further.
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But if the council has said Leader, then those students go to the
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home of the Leaders, which is the greatest house in the city, for
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it has three stories, and there they study for many years, so that
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they may become candidates and be elected to the City Council, and the State
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Council and the World Council by a free and general vote of all men.
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But we wish not to be a leader, even though it is a great
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honor. We wish to be a scholar. So we awaited our turn in
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the Great Hall, and then we heard the Council of Vocations call our name
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equality seven two five two One walked to the dais, and our legs did
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not tremble, and we looked up at the council. There were five members
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of the council, three of the male gender and two of the female.
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Their hair was white, and their faces were cracked as the clay of a
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dry river bed. They were old. They seemed older than the marble of
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the Temple of the World Council. They sat before us, and they did
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not move, and we saw no breath to stir the folds of their white
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togas. But we knew that they were alive, for a finger of the
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hand of the oldest rose pointed to us and fell down again. This was
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the only thing which moved, for the lips of the oldest did not move.
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As they said, street sweeper, We felt the cords of our neck
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grow tight as our head rose higher to look upon the faces of the council,
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and we were happy. We knew we had been guilty, but now
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we had a way to atone for it. We would accept our life mandate,
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and we would work for our brothers gladly and willingly, and we would
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erase our sin against them, which they did not know, but we knew,
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for we were happy and proud of ourselves and of the victory over ourselves.
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We raised our right arm and we spoke, and our voice was the
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clearest, the steadiest voice in the hall that day, and we said,
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the will of our brothers be done. And we looked straight into the eyes
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of the council, But their eyes were as cold as blue glass buttons.
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So we went into the home of the street sweepers. It is a gray
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house on a narrow street. There is a sun dial in the courtyard by
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which the council of the home can tell the hours of the day and when
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to ring the bell. When the bell rings, we arise from our beds.
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The sky is green and cold in our windows to the east, and
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the shadow on the sun dial marks off a half hour. While we dress
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and eat our breakfast in the dining hall, where there are five long tables
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with twenty clay plates and twenty clay cups on each table. Then we go
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to work in the streets of the city with our brooms and our rakes.
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In five hours, when the sun is high, we return to the home
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and we eat our midday meal, for which one half hour is allowed.
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Then we go to work again. In five hours, the shadows are blue
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on the pavements, and the sky is blue with a deep brightness which is
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not bright. We come back to have our dinner, which last one hour.
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Then the bell rings and we walk in a straight column to one of
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the city halls for the social meeting. Other columns of men arrive from the
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homes of the different trades. The candles are lit, and the councils of
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the different homes stand in a pulpit, and they speak to us of our
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duties and our brother men. Then visiting leaders mount the pulpit and they read
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to us the speeches which were made in the city council that day. For
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the city council represents all men, and all men must know. Then we
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sing hymns, the Hymn of Brotherhood, the Hymn of Equality, and the
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hymn of the collective spirit. The sky is a soggy purple when we return
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to the home. Then the bell rings, and we walk in a straight
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column to the city theater for three hours of social recreation. Their a play
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is shown upon the stage, with two great choruses from the home of the
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actors, which speak and answer all together in two great voices. The plays
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are about toil, and how good it is. Then we walk back to
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the home in a straight column. The sky is like a black sieve,
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pierced by silver drops that tremble, ready to burst through. The moths beat
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against the street lanterns. We go to our beds, and we sleep till
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the bell rings again. The sleeping halls are white and clean and bare of
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all things save one hundred beds. Thus we have lived each day of four
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years until two springs ago, when our crime happened. Thus must all men
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live until they are forty. At forty they're worn out. At forty they
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are sent to the home of the useless, where the old ones live.
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The old ones do not work, for the state takes care of them.
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They sit in the sun and summer, and they sit by the fire in
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winter. They do not speak often, for they are weary. The old
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ones know that they are soon to die. When a miracle happens and some
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one lives to be forty five, they are the ancient ones, and children
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stare at them when passing by the home of the useless. Such is to
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be our life, as that of all our brothers, and of the brothers
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who came before us. Such would have been our life had we not committed
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our crime, which has changed all things for us. And it was our
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curse which drove us to our crime. We had been a good street sweeper,
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and like all our brothers, street sweepers, save for our cursed wish
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to know. We looked too long at the stars at night, and at
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the trees and the earth. And when we cleaned the yard of the home
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of the scholars, we gathered the glass vials, the pieces of metal,
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the dried bones which they had discarded. We wished to keep these things and
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to study them, but we had no place to hide them. So we
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carried them to the city cesspool, and then we made the discovery. It
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was on a day of the spring before last. We street sweepers worked in
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brigades of three, and we were with Union five three nine nine two.
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They of the half brain and with internet National for eight eight one eight now
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Union five three nine ninety two were a sickly lad, and sometimes they were
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stricken with convulsions, when their mouth froths and their eyes turn white. But
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International four eight eight one eight are different. They are tall, strong youth,
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and in their eyes are like fireflies, for there is laughter in their
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eyes. We cannot look upon International four eight eight one eight and not smile
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and answer for this. They were not liked in the home of the students,
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as it were not proper to smile without reason. And also they were
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not liked because they took pieces of coal, and they drew pictures upon the
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walls, and they were pictures which made men laugh. But it is only
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our brothers in the home of the artists, which are permitted to draw pictures.
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So International four eight eight one eight were sent to the home of the
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street sweepers like ourselves International four eight eight one eight, and we are friends.
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This is an evil thing to say, for it is a great transgression,
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the great transgression of preference, to love any among men better than the
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others. Since we must love all men, and all men are of our
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friends, so International four eight eight one eight. And we have never spoken
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of it, but we know, we know when we look into each other's
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eyes, and when we look thus without words, we both know other things,
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also, strange things for which there are no words. And these things
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frighten us. So on that day of the spring before last Union five three
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nine ninety two were stricken with convulsions on the edge to the city, near
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the city theater. We left them to lie in the shade of the theater
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tent, and we went with International four eight eight one eight to finish our
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work. We came together to the great ravine behind the theater. It is
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empty save for trees and weeds. Behind the ravine there is a plane,
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and behind the plane there lies the uncharted forest, about which men must not
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think. We were gathering the papers and the rags which the wind had blown
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from the theater when we saw an iron bar among the weeds. It was
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old and rusted by many rains. We pulled with all our strength, but
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we could not move it. So we called International four eight eight one eight,
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and together we scraped the earth around the bar. Of a sudden,
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the earth fell in before us, and we saw an old iron grill over
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a black hole in National four eight eight one eight. Step back, But
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we pulled at the grill and it gave way, and then we saw iron
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rings as steps leading down a shaft into a darkness without bottom. We shall
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go down, we said to International four eight eight one eight. It is
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forbidden. They answered, We said, the Council does not know of this
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hole, so it cannot be forbidden. And they answered, since the Council
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does not know of this hole, there could be no law permitting to enter
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it, and everything which is not permitted by law is forbidden. But we
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said we shall go. Nonetheless, they were frightened, but they stood by
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and watched us go. We hung on the iron rings with our hands and
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our feet. We could see nothing below us, and above us. The
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hole open upon the sky grew smaller and smaller, till it came to be
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the size of a button. But still we went down. Then our foot
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touched the ground. We rubbed our eyes, for we could not see.
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Then our eyes became used to the darkness, and we could not believe what
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we saw. No man known to us could have built this place, nor
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the men known to our brothers who lived before us, and yet it was
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built by men. It was a great tunnel. Its walls were hard and
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smooth to the touch. It felt like stone, but it wasn't stone.
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On the ground there were long, thin tracts of iron, but it was
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not iron. It felt smooth and cold as glass. We knelt and we
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crawled forward, our hand groping along the iron line to see where it would
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lead. But there was an unbroken night ahead. Only the iron tracks glowed
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through it, straight and white, calling us to follow. But we could
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not follow, for we were losing the puddle of light behind us. So
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we turned and we crawled back, our hand on the iron line, and
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our heart beat in our fingertips without reason. And then we knew, We
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knew suddenly that this place was left from the unmentionable times. So it was
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true, and those times had been, and all the wonders of those times,
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hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. Men knew secrets which we have lost.
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And we thought this is a foul place. They are damned to touch
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the things of the dimensionable times. But our hand, which followed the track
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as we crawled, clung to the iron as if it would not leave it,
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as if the skin of our hand were thirsty and begging of the metal,
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some secret fluid beating in its coldness. We returned to the earth.
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International four eight eight one eight looked upon us and stepped back. Equality seven
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two five two one. They said, your face is white. But we
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could not speak, and we stood looking upon them. They backed away as
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if they dared not touch us. Then they smiled, but it was not
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a gay smile. It was lost and pleading. But still we could not
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speak. Then they said, we shall report our find to the city council,
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and both of us will be rewarded. And then we spoke. Our
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voice was hard, and there was no mercy in our voice. We said,
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we shall not report our find to the city council. We shall not
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report it to any men. They raised their hands to their ears, for
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never had they heard such words as these. International four eight eight one eight.
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We asked, will you report us to the council and see us lashed
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to death before your eyes? They stood straight of a sudden, and they
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answered, rather would we die? Then we said, keep silent. This
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place is ours. This place belongs to us Equality seven two five two one,
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and to no other men on earth. And if we ever surrender it,
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we shall surrender our life with it. Also then we saw that the
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eyes of International four eight eight one eight were fold to the lids with tears
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that dared not drop. They whispered, and their voice trembled, so that
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their words lost all shape. The will of the Council is above all things,
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for it is the will of our brothers, which is holy. But
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if you wish it so, we shall obey you. Rather shall we be
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evil with you than good with all our brothers. May the Council have mercy
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upon both our hearts. Then we walked away together and back to the home
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of the street sweepers, and we walked in silence. Thus did it come
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to pass that each night, when the stars are high and the streets sweepers
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sit in the city theater, we Equality seven two five two one steal out
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and run through the darkness to our place. It is easy to leave the
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theater. When the candles are blown and the actors come on to the stage.
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No eyes can see us as we crawl under our seat and under the
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cloth of the tent. Later, it is easy to steal through the shadows
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and fall in nine next to International four eight eight one eight. As the
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column leaves the theater, it is dark in the streets, and there are
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no men about, for no men may walk through the city when they have
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no mission to walk there. Each night we run to the ravine and we
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remove the stones we have piled upon the iron grill to hide it from men.
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Each night, for three hours we are under the earth alone. We
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have stolen candles from the home of the street sweepers. We have stolen flints
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and knives and paper, and we have brought them to this place. We
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have stolen glass vials and powders and acids from the home of the scholars.
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Now we sit in the tunnel for three hours each night, and we study.
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We melt strange metals, and we mix acids, and we cut open
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the bodies of the animals which we find in the city cesspool. We have
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built an oven of the bricks we gathered in the streets. We burn the
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wood we find in the ravine. The fire flickers in the oven, and
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the blue shadows dance upon the walls, and there is no sound of men
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to disturb us. We have stolen manuscripts. This is a great offense.
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Manuscripts are precious, for our brothers in the home of the clerks spend one
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year to copy one single script in their clear handwriting. Manuscripts are rare,
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and they are kept in the home of the scholars. So we sit under
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the earth and we read the stolen scripts. Two years have passed since we
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found this place, and in these two years we have learned more than we
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had learned in the ten years at the home of the students. We have
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learned things which are not in the scripts. We have solved secrets of which
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the scholars have no knowledge. We have come to see how great is the
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unexplored, and how many lifetimes will not bring us to the end of our
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quest. We wish nothing save to be alone and to learn, and to
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feel as if with each day our sight were growing sharper than the hawks and
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clearer than the rock crystal. Strange are the ways of evil. We are
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false in the faces of our brothers. We are defying the will of our
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councils. We alone, of the thousands who walk the earth, We alone,
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in this hour, are doing a work which has no purpose save that
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we wish to do it. The evil of our crime is not for the
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human mind to probe. The nature of our punishment, if it be discovered,
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is not free for the human heart to ponder. Never not in the
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memory of the ancient ones. Ancients, never have men done what we are
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doing. And yet there is no shame in us and no regret. We
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say to ourselves that we are a wretch and a traitor, but we feel
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no burden upon our spirit, and no fear in our heart. And it
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seems to us that our spirit is clear as a lake, troubled by no
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eyes save those of the sun. And in our heart strange are the ways
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of evil. In our heart there is the first peace we have known in
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twenty years. End of Chapter one.