Whenmorningcame, hefelthehadearnedtherighttoinhabitthelighthouse; yet, eventhoughtherestillwasglassinmostofthewindows, eventhoughtheviewfromtheplatformwassofine. Fortheveryreasonwhyhehadchosenthelighthousehadbecomealmostinstantly a reasonforgoingsomewhereelse. Hehaddecidedtolivetherebecausetheviewwassobeautiful, because, fromhisvantagepoint, heseemedtobelookingoutontotheincarnationof a divinebeing. Butwhowashetobepamperedwiththedailyandhourlysightofloveliness? WhowashetobelivinginthevisiblepresenceofGod? Allhedeservedtoliveinwassomefilthysty, someblindholeintheground. Stiffandstillachingafterhislongnightofpain, butforthatveryreasoninwardlyreassured, heclimbeduptotheplatformofhistower, helookedoutoverthebrightsunriseworldwhichhehadregainedtherighttoinhabit. OnthenorththeviewwasboundedbythelongchalkridgeoftheHog's Back, frombehindwhoseeasternextremityrosethetowersofthesevenskyscraperswhichconstitutedGuildford. Seeingthem, theSavagemade a grimace; buthewastobecomereconciledtothemincourseoftime; foratnighttheytwinkledgailywithgeometricalconstellations, orelse, flood-lighted, pointedtheirluminousfingers (with a gesturewhosesignificancenobodyinEnglandbuttheSavagenowunderstood) solemnlytowardstheplumblessmysteriesofheaven.
32
InthevalleywhichseparatedtheHog's Backfromthesandyhillonwhichthelighthousestood, Puttenhamwas a modestlittlevillageninestorieshigh, withsilos, a poultryfarm, and a smallvitamin-D factory. Ontheothersideofthelighthouse, towardstheSouth, thegroundfellawayinlongslopesofheatherto a chainofponds.
33
Beyondthem, abovetheinterveningwoods, rosethefourteen-storytowerofElstead. DiminthehazyEnglishair, HindheadandSelborneinvitedtheeyeinto a blueromanticdistance. ButitwasnotalonethedistancethathadattractedtheSavagetohislighthouse; thenearwasasseductiveasthefar. Thewoods, theopenstretchesofheatherandyellowgorse, theclumpsofScotchfirs, theshiningpondswiththeiroverhangingbirchtrees, theirwaterlilies, theirbedsofrushes-thesewerebeautifuland, toaneyeaccustomedtotheariditiesoftheAmericandesert, astonishing. Andthenthesolitude! Wholedayspassedduringwhichheneversaw a humanbeing. Thelighthousewasonly a quarterofanhour's flightfromtheCharing-T Tower; butthehillsofMalpaiswerehardlymoredesertedthanthisSurreyheath. ThecrowdsthatdailyleftLondon, leftitonlytoplayElectro-magneticGolforTennis. Puttenhampossessednolinks; thenearestRiemann-surfaceswereatGuildford. Flowersand a landscapeweretheonlyattractionshere. Andso, astherewasnogoodreasonforcoming, nobodycame. DuringthefirstdaystheSavagelivedaloneandundisturbed.
Threedayslater, liketurkeybuzzardssettlingon a corpse, thereporterscame.
43
Driedandhardenedover a slowfireofgreenwood, thebowwasready. TheSavagewasbusyonhisarrows. Thirtyhazelstickshadbeenwhittledanddried, tippedwithsharpnails, carefullynocked. Hehadmade a raidonenightonthePuttenhampoultryfarm, andnowhadfeathersenoughtoequip a wholearmoury. Itwasatworkuponthefeatheringofhisshaftsthatthefirstofthereportersfoundhim. Noiselessonhispneumaticshoes, themancameupbehindhim.
44
"Good-morning, Mr. Savage," hesaid. "I amtherepresentativeofTheHourlyRadio."
45
Startledasthoughbythebiteof a snake, theSavagesprangtohisfeet, scatteringarrows, feathers, glue-potandbrushinalldirections.
46
"I begyourpardon," saidthereporter, withgenuinecompunction. "I hadnointention ..." Hetouchedhishat-thealuminumstove-pipehatinwhichhecarriedhiswirelessreceiverandtransmitter. "Excusemynottakingitoff," hesaid. "It's a bitheavy. Well, as I wassaying, I amtherepresentativeofTheHourly ..."
"Well, ofcourse, ourreaderswouldbeprofoundlyinterested ..." Heputhisheadononeside, hissmilebecamealmostcoquettish. "Just a fewwordsfromyou, Mr. Savage." Andrapidly, with a seriesofritualgestures, heuncoiledtwowiresconnectedtotheportablebatterybuckledroundhiswaist; pluggedthemsimultaneouslyintothesidesofhisaluminumhat; touched a springonthecrown-andantennæshotupintotheair; touchedanotherspringonthepeakofthebrim-and, like a jack-in-the-box, outjumped a microphoneandhungthere, quivering, sixinchesinfrontofhisnose; pulleddown a pairofreceiversoverhisears; pressed a switchontheleftsideofthehat-andfromwithincame a faintwaspybuzzing; turned a knobontheright-andthebuzzingwasinterruptedby a stethoscopicwheezeandcackle, byhiccoughsandsuddensqueaks. "Hullo," hesaidtothemicrophone, "hullo, hullo ..." A bellsuddenlyranginsidehishat. "Isthatyou, Edzel? PrimoMellonspeaking. Yes, I'vegotholdofhim. Mr. Savagewillnowtakethemicrophoneandsay a fewwords. Won't you, Mr. Savage?" HelookedupattheSavagewithanotherofthosewinningsmilesofhis. "Justtellourreaderswhyyoucamehere. WhatmadeyouleaveLondon (holdon, Edzel!) soverysuddenly. And, ofcourse, thatwhip." (TheSavagestarted. Howdidtheyknowaboutthewhip?) "We'reallcrazytoknowaboutthewhip. AndthensomethingaboutCivilization. Youknowthesortofstuff. 'What I thinkoftheCivilizedGirl.' Just a fewwords, a veryfew ..."
49
TheSavageobeyedwith a disconcertingliteralness. Fivewordsheutteredandnomore-fivewords, thesameasthosehehadsaidtoBernardabouttheArch-Community-SongsterofCanterbury. "Háni! Sonsésotse-ná!" Andseizingthereporterbytheshoulder, hespunhimround (theyoungmanrevealedhimselfinvitinglywell-covered), aimedand, withalltheforceandaccuracyof a championfoot-and-mouth-baller, delivered a mostprodigiouskick.
50
Eightminuteslater, a neweditionofTheHourlyRadiowasonsaleinthestreetsofLondon. "Hourlyradioreporterhascoccyxkickedbymysterysavage," rantheheadlinesonthefrontpage. "SensationinSurrey."
51
"SensationeveninLondon," thoughtthereporterwhen, onhisreturn, hereadthewords. And a verypainfulsensation, whatwasmore. Hesatdowngingerlytohisluncheon.
"Oh, isit?" saidtheSavageand, pickingup a thickhazelswitch, strodeforward.
59
ThemanfromTheFordianScienceMonitormade a dashforhishelicopter.
60
AfterthattheSavagewasleftfor a timeinpeace. A fewhelicopterscameandhoveredinquisitivelyroundthetower. Heshotanarrowintotheimportunatelynearestofthem. Itpiercedthealuminumfloorofthecabin; therewas a shrillyell, andthemachinewentrocketingupintotheairwithalltheaccelerationthatitssuper-chargercouldgiveit. Theothers, infuture, kepttheirdistancerespectfully. Ignoringtheirtiresomehumming (helikenedhimselfinhisimaginationtooneofthesuitorsoftheMaidenofMátsaki, unmovedandpersistentamongthewingedvermin), theSavagedugatwhatwastobehisgarden. After a timetheverminevidentlybecameboredandflewaway; forhoursat a stretchtheskyabovehisheadwasemptyand, butforthelarks, silent.
61
Theweatherwasbreathlesslyhot, therewasthunderintheair. Hehaddugallthemorningandwasresting, stretchedoutalongthefloor. AndsuddenlythethoughtofLeninawas a realpresence, nakedandtangible, saying "Sweet!" and "Putyourarmsroundme!"-inshoesandsocks, perfumed. Impudentstrumpet! Butoh, oh, herarmsroundhisneck, theliftingofherbreasts, hermouth! Eternitywasinourlipsandeyes. Lenina ... No, no, no, no! Hesprangtohisfeetand, halfnakedashewas, ranoutofthehouse. Attheedgeoftheheathstood a clumpofhoaryjuniperbushes. Heflunghimselfagainstthem, heembraced, notthesmoothbodyofhisdesires, butanarmfulofgreenspikes. Sharp, with a thousandpoints, theyprickedhim. HetriedtothinkofpoorLinda, breathlessanddumb, withherclutchinghandsandtheunutterableterrorinhereyes. PoorLindawhomhehadsworntoremember. ButitwasstillthepresenceofLeninathathauntedhim. Leninawhomhehadpromisedtoforget. Eventhroughthestabandstingofthejuniperneedles, hiswincingfleshwasawareofher, unescapablyreal. "Sweet, sweet ... Andifyouwantedmetoo, whydidn't you ..."
62
Thewhipwashangingon a nailbythedoor, readytohandagainstthearrivalofreporters. In a frenzytheSavageranbacktothehouse, seizedit, whirledit. Theknottedcordsbitintohisflesh.
63
"Strumpet! Strumpet!" heshoutedateveryblowasthoughitwereLenina (andhowfrantically, withoutknowingit, hewisheditwere), white, warm, scented, infamousLeninathathewasdoggingthus. "Strumpet!" Andthen, in a voiceofdespair, "Oh, Linda, forgiveme. Forgiveme, God. I'm bad. I'm wicked. I'm ... No, no, youstrumpet, youstrumpet!"
64
Fromhiscarefullyconstructedhideinthewoodthreehundredmetresaway, DarwinBonaparte, theFeelyCorporation's mostexpertbiggamephotographerhadwatchedthewholeproceedings. Patienceandskillhadbeenrewarded. Hehadspentthreedayssittinginsidetheboleofanartificialoaktree, threenightscrawlingonhisbellythroughtheheather, hidingmicrophonesingorsebushes, buryingwiresinthesoftgreysand. Seventy-twohoursofprofounddiscomfort. Butnowmegreatmomenthadcome-thegreatest, DarwinBonapartehadtimetoreflect, ashemovedamonghisinstruments, thegreatestsincehistakingofthefamousall-howlingstereoscopicfeelyofthegorillas' wedding. "Splendid," hesaidtohimself, astheSavagestartedhisastonishingperformance. "Splendid!" Hekepthistelescopiccamerascarefullyaimed-gluedtotheirmovingobjective; clappedon a higherpowertoget a close-upofthefranticanddistortedface (admirable!); switchedover, forhalf a minute, toslowmotion (anexquisitelycomicaleffect, hepromisedhimself); listenedin, meanwhile, totheblows, thegroans, thewildandravingwordsthatwerebeingrecordedonthesound-trackattheedgeofhisfilm, triedtheeffectof a littleamplification (yes, thatwasdecidedlybetter); wasdelightedtohear, in a momentarylull, theshrillsingingof a lark; wishedtheSavagewouldturnroundsothathecouldget a goodclose-upofthebloodonhisback-andalmostinstantly (whatastonishingluck!) theaccommodatingfellowdidturnround, andhewasabletotake a perfectclose-up.
65
"Well, thatwasgrand!" hesaidtohimselfwhenitwasallover. "Reallygrand!" Hemoppedhisface. Whentheyhadputinthefeelyeffectsatthestudio, itwouldbe a wonderfulfilm. Almostasgood, thoughtDarwinBonaparte, astheSpermWhale's Love-Life-andthat, byFord, wassaying a gooddeal!
A hummingoverheadhadbecome a roar; andsuddenlyhewasinshadow, therewassomethingbetweenthesunandhim. Helookedup, startled, fromhisdigging, fromhisthoughts; lookedupin a dazzledbewilderment, hismindstillwanderinginthatotherworldoftruer-than-truth, stillfocusedontheimmensitiesofdeathanddeity; lookedupandsaw, closeabovehim, theswarmofhoveringmachines. Likelocuststheycame, hungpoised, descendedallaroundhimontheheather. Andfromoutofthebelliesofthesegiantgrasshopperssteppedmeninwhiteviscose-flannels, women (fortheweatherwashot) inacetate-shantungpyjamasorvelveteenshortsandsleeveless, half-unzipperedsinglets-onecouplefromeach. In a fewminutesthereweredozensofthem, standingin a widecircleroundthelighthouse, staring, laughing, clickingtheircameras, throwing (astoanape) peanuts, packetsofsex-hormonechewing-gum, pan-glandularpetitebeurres. Andeverymoment-foracrosstheHog's Backthestreamoftrafficnowflowedunceasingly-theirnumbersincreased. Asin a nightmare, thedozensbecamescores, thescoreshundreds.
70
TheSavagehadretreatedtowardscover, andnow, inthepostureofananimalatbay, stoodwithhisbacktothewallofthelighthouse, staringfromfacetofaceinspeechlesshorror, like a manoutofhissenses.
71
Fromthisstuporhewasarousedto a moreimmediatesenseofrealitybytheimpactonhischeekof a well-aimedpacketofchewing-gum. A shockofstartlingpain-andhewasbroadawake, awakeandfiercelyangry.
"Have a fewmagnesium-saltedalmonds!" saidthemanwho, iftheSavageweretoadvance, wouldbethefirsttobeattacked. Heheldout a packet. "They'rereallyverygood, youknow," headded, with a rathernervoussmileofpropitiation. "Andthemagnesiumsaltswillhelptokeepyouyoung."
Thedoorofthelighthousewasajar. Theypusheditopenandwalkedinto a shutteredtwilight. Throughanarchwayonthefurthersideoftheroomtheycouldseethebottomofthestaircasethatleduptothehigherfloors. Justunderthecrownofthearchdangled a pairoffeet.