Out of the Unknown (1965) s02e01 Episode Script
The Machine Stops
1 [theme music plays.]
[recorded male voice.]
Above you, beneath you, around you is the Machine.
The Earth, carrying you, speeds through space, turning you now to the invisible sun, now to the invisible stars.
But deep down in the Machine, you have your own darkness, and your own light.
Thanks to the universal establishment of the Machine, each of you, in your room, is in touch with all that you care for in the world.
And if you have any queries, refer to the book published by the Central Committee.
ln the book are instructions against every, possible contingency.
If you are hot, or cold, or dyspeptic, or at a loss for a word, or how to phrase a sentence, go to the book.
[electronic buzzing.]
I suppose I must see who it is.
Who is it? Mother? Itâs Kuno.
I want to speak to you.
Very well.
I will isolate myself.
I do not expect anything important will happen for the next five minutes.
Yes, I give you fully five minutes, Kuno.
Then I must deliver one of my lectures on music during the Australian period.
[whirring.]
Be quick.
Be quick, Kuno.
Here I am in the dark, wasting my time! Iâve called you before, Mother, but you were always busy or isolated.
I have something particular to say.
Why couldn't you have sent it by pneumatic post? Because I prefer saying such a thing.
I want you to come and see me.
But I can see you! From the other side of the Earth I can see you.
What more do you want? Pay me a visit.
Come and stop with me.
I want to see you, not through the Machine.
I want to speak to you, not through the wearisome Machine.
Shh! You mustn't say anything against the Machine.
- Why not? - One mustn't, that's all.
You talk as if God had made the Machine.
Men made it, do not forget that.
Great men, but men.
The Machine is much, but not everything.
I see something like you in this plate, but I do not see you.
I hear something like you in this receiver, but I do not hear you.
That is why I want you to come, so that we can meet face to face, and talk about the hopes that are in my mind.
I can scarcely spare the time for a visit.
It barely takes two hours to fly between Australia and Devon.
- I dislike the aeroship.
- Why? I dislike seeing the horrible brown Earth, and the sea, and the stars when it is dark.
I get no ideas in the air.
I do not get them anywhere else.
What kind of ideas can the air give you? Do you know four big stars that form an oblong? And three stars close together in the middle of the oblong? And hanging from these stars, three other stars? I had an idea they were like a man.
I don't understand.
The four big stars are the man's shoulders, and his knees.
The three in the middle are like belts that men wore once, and the three stars hanging are like a sword.
It doesn't strike me as a very good idea, but it's certainly original.
- When did it first come to you? - In the aeroship.
I want to see those stars again, not from the aeroship, but from the surface of the Earth, as our ancestors did.
I want to visit the surface of the Earth.
- Kuno! - Mother, you must come.
If only to explain to me, what is the harm of visiting the surface of the Earth.
No harm, but no advantage.
The surface of the Earth is only dust and mud, no life remains on it.
You would need a respirator, or the cold of the outer air would kill you.
One dies immediately in the outer air.
I know.
Of course I shall take all precautions.
- And besides - Well? It is contrary to the spirit of the age.
You mean, contrary to the Machine! ln a sense but Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [fragmented voices in Vashti's head.]
[Kuno.]
Men made it, do not forget that.
[Kuno.]
I want you to come-- [Vashti.]
I dislike-- [echoes.]
[Vashti.]
No ideas ln the air-- [Kuno.]
I want to see you The Earth, he surface of the Earth-- [Vashti.]
Kuno! [fragmented echoes.]
[Vashti.]
No harm, but no advantage.
[recording of Vashti.]
And there was, at one time, in one of the civilisations before ours, high hope of neutralising the Earth's diurnal revolution.
But that hope, together with hopes that were possibly higher, have passed.
Those were the old days, when men went out for a change of air, instead of changing the air in their rooms.
Today I will do it.
[whirring.]
I will not use the Machine, I will do it myself.
[steady beeping.]
I must I must! I must! [beeping continues.]
I wish to put in an application to the Central Committee.
I wish to put in an application to become a father.
[Machine.]
Your application will be considered.
You will be informed of the result in due course.
[running water.]
[recorded voice.]
To keep pace with the sun, or even to outstrip it, had been the aim of the civilisation preceding our own.
Racing aeroplanes were built for the purpose, capable of enormous speed.
Horrible accidents occurred, and the committee of the Machine, at the time rising into prominence, declared the pursuit illegal, unmechanical, and punishable by homelessness.
O machine, O machine, O machine.
I have not the time.
[laughing.]
[laughing.]
[whirring.]
[rush of air.]
Air! [whirring.]
Air [whirring continues.]
I shall do it yet.
[woman over the Machine.]
What is that new food like? Can you recommend it? The new food is horrible.
The new make-up is a success.
Have you had any ideas recently? None of my own.
But I have just been told one.
That four stars and three in the middle are like a man.
I doubt there is much in it.
Who gave you that idea? One of my sons.
But I suppose it's just the nonsense of a youthful man.
Have you seen him since his removal to the public nurseries? Yes, I made one visit there, and he came to visit me, until the Machine assigned him a room on the other side of the Earth.
He visited you? Yes, there was something special about Kuno.
[whirring.]
[electronic pulsing.]
[Machine.]
Citizen Kuno, it is noted that you have a certain physical strength.
ln these days, it is a demerit to be muscular.
Each infant is examined at birth, and all who promise undue strength are destroyed.
Man must be adapted to his surroundings, and the strong must suffer euthanasia.
There would be grave danger, that, in the event of your becoming a father, your physical characteristics would be transmitted to your son.
Therefore your application to become a father is refused, that the Machine may progress That the Machine may progress That the Machine may progress eternally [echoes.]
I wish to summon a respirator! [Vashti.]
Kuno! Kuno! Kuno, have you been to the surface of the Earth? Not yet.
Tell me what you wanted to tell me.
I will not talk to you until you come.
Use the communication system.
I know all about the obsolete communication system.
Iâve studied the civilisation immediately preceding our own, and I know that it mistook the functions of the system, and used it for bringing people to things, instead of bringing things to people.
Nowadays, spiritually minded people don't travel.
- Mother! - Rapid intercourse, from which previous civilisations hoped so much, has ended up defeating itself.
What's the good of going to Pekin when it's just like Shrewsbury? Why return to Shrewsbury when it's just like Pekin? Nowadays, men seldom move their bodies.
Yes, all unrest is concentrated in the soul.
And besides it would mean direct experience.
Why do you not come to me instead? Because I cannot leave this place.
Why not? Because any moment something tremendous may happen.
What? I will not tell you through the Machine.
Kuno.
Kuno.
Kuno, I cannot come to see you.
I am not well.
Doctor [whirring.]
[Vashti's heartbeat.]
[air rustling.]
[electric motor and rush of air.]
[thunderous explosion.]
[birds cawing.]
[gasping.]
[breathing.]
[deep, slow whirring.]
[birds cawing.]
[rustling.]
[pants.]
[gasps.]
[cawing continues.]
Ah! [faint beeping.]
[faint electric fizzling.]
[loud electric fizzling.]
[loud electric fizzling.]
[screaming.]
[screams.]
[fizzling continues.]
[muffled screaming.]
The duties of parents cease at the moment of birth, when the baby is removed to a public nursery.
Kuno.
Kuno.
O Machine Attendant? Attendant! Who are they? Young males sent out from the public nurseries, to inhabit the rooms of those who have died in the various parts of the Earth.
He is on a homeward journey, sent to Sumatra for the purpose of propagating the race.
- Where are we now? - We are over Asia.
Asia? You must excuse my way of speaking.
Iâve got into the habit of calling places over which we pass, - by their unmechanical names.
- Oh, I remember Asia.
Those mountains on the right, let me show you them.
[whirring.]
The Himalayas.
Once called 'The Roof of the World' those mountains.
What a foolish name.
Advanced mechanical language is much more convenient, as taught in the Book.
You must remember that before the dawn of civilisation, they seemed to be an impenetrable wall, that touched the stars.
It was supposed that no one but the gods could exist above their summits.
How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine.
How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine.
And that white stuff in the cracks.
What is it? Iâve forgotten its name.
Cover the windows, please.
These mountains give me no ideas.
We have indeed advanced.
[whirring.]
I have had the most terrible journey, Kuno, and greatly retarded the development of my soul.
Itâs not worth it, Kuno, it's not worth it.
The sunlight almost touched my face.
I can only stay a few moments, so say what you have to say and then I must return.
Iâve been threatened with homelessness.
Iâve been threatened with homelessness.
I could not tell you such a thing through the Machine.
Homelessness means death! They will kill you! What have you done? Iâve been outside since I spoke to you last.
And they discovered me.
But why shouldn't you go outside? Itâs perfectly legal to visit the surface of the Earth, perfectly mechanical.
One simply summons a respirator and gets an Egression permit.
Itâs not the kind of thing that spiritually minded people do, and I begged you not to do it, but there is no legal objection to it.
I did not get an Egression permit.
Then how did you get out? - I found a way of my own.
- I don't understand.
A way of my own.
A way of your own! But that would be wrong.
Why? You're beginning to worship the Machine.
You think it irreligious to have found out a way of my own.
I worship nothing.
I am most advanced.
I do not think you irreligious, because there's no such thing as religion left.
All I meant was And besides, there is no new way out.
So it is always supposed.
Except through the vomitories, for which one must have an Egression permit, it is impossible to get out.
The Book says so.
Well, the Book's wrong, for I have been outside on foot.
Do you know that we have lost the sense of space? Well, I determined to recover it and I began by walking up and down the tunnel outside my room.
That was my first lesson.
Man's feet are the measure for distance, his hands are the measure for ownership, his body is the measure for all that is lovable, and desirable and strong.
I developed my sense of space, and my muscles.
I think I should have been content with this, but as I walked and brooded, it occurred to me, that our cities had been built when men still breathed the outer air, and that there had been ventilation shafts for the workmen.
Had they been destroyed, by all the food tubes, and medicine tubes, and music tubes, that the Machine had evolved? Or did traces of them remain? One thing was certain.
If I came upon them anywhere, it would be in the tunnels of the topmost storey.
Don't think that l was not a coward.
It is not the proper thing, it is not mechanical, it's not decent to walk along a tunnel.
I did not fear that I might tread on a live rail and be killed.
I feared something far more intangible doing what was not contemplated by the Machine.
Then I said to myself, âMan is the measureâ, and I went.
Don't.
Don't talk of these terrible things.
You are throwing civilisation away.
But Iâd got back the sense of space.
I climbed out into the outer air.
As I climbed, silence came.
The Machine hums.
Did you know that? I thought, âThis silence means that I am doing wrong.
â But the spirits of the dead comforted me.
I felt that, for the first time, a protest had been lodged against corruption, and all these tubes and buttons and machineries, neither came into the world with us, nor will they follow us out, neither do they matter supremely while we are here.
Kuno, there is no room for such a person in the world.
You are fated.
I am ashamed to have borne such a son.
Don't touch me! We are too different, Mother.
I don't think this is interesting you.
There are no ideas in it.
You have brought me across the world to hear you.
So tell me what happened.
I came out in the hills of Wessex.
I knew it was Wessex, because I had taken care to study a lecture on the subject before starting.
I was in a hollow.
The air filled my hollow as water fills a bowl.
I could crawl about.
I breathed a mixture in which the air that hurts, predominated whenever I tried to climb the sides.
I saw low, colourless hills.
And I felt that those hills had called with incalculable force to men in the past, and that men had loved them.
Now they sleep, perhaps for ever.
But happy the man, happy the woman, who awakes the hills of Wessex.
For though they sleep, they will never die.
You talk like the old literature.
We have harnessed Leviathan, Kuno.
All this praise of nature, all this fear of nature, they ring false as the prattle of a child.
Cannot you see, cannot all you lecturers see, that it is we who are dying.
We created the Machine to do our will, but it cannot do our will now.
It has robbed us of the sense of space, the sense of touch.
It has blurred every human relation-- Nonsense! I know several thousand people.
Human relationship has advanced enormously.
ln certain directions.
But what of love? The Machine has reduced love to a carnal act.
Oh, the Machine develops, but not on our lines.
The Machine proceeds, but not to our goal.
If it could work without us, it would let us die.
- Blasphemies, blasphemies! - Oh, I have no remedy or at least, only one.
To tell men, again and again Blasphemies.
Blasphemies.
that I have seen the hills of Wessex, as Alfred saw them when he overthrew the Danes.
That is not what I meant.
Tell me how you returned to civilisation.
You crawled along the surface of the Earth to a vomitory, and there your conduct was reported to the Central Committee? By no means.
I had a pool of air, which was escaping from the ventilation shaft.
But by evening, the air had begun to stop.
Not until it was too late, did I realise what the stoppage implied.
You see, the gap in the tunnel had been mended.
Yes.
The Mending Apparatus.
The Mending Apparatus was after me.
Worms, long white worms I cried out, I cried for help.
I was dragged away from the living hills and the last thing I saw before the stopper closed over us were certain clouds, and I knew that a man of my sort lived in the sky.
Then I woke up in this room, surrounded by artificial air, artificial light, artificial peace.
- It will end in homelessness.
- I wish it would.
The Machine has been most merciful.
I prefer the mercy of God.
By that superstitious phrase, do you mean you could live in the outer air? Yes.
Have you ever seen round the vomitories, the bones of those who were extruded after the Great Rebellion? - Yes.
- They were left where they perished for our edification.
A few crawled away, but they too perished.
Who can doubt it? And so with the homeless of our own day.
The surface of the Earth supports life no longer.
Ferns and a little grass maybe, but all higher forms have perished.
Has any aeroship detected them? No.
Has any lecturer dealt with them? No.
Then why this obstinacy? Because I have seen her in the sunlight.
Because she came to my help when I called.
Because she, too, was entangled by the worms and, luckier than I, was killed by one of them piercing her throat! [whirring.]
He is mad.
[low humming.]
I want to summon a respirator.
[Machine.]
That, and nothing else? Nothing else.
No gloves for your hands? No hygienic clothes? - No dietetic tabloids? - No.
Respirators have been abolished.
Abolished! But why? Advanced thinkers have always held it foolish to visit the surface of the Earth.
It is unproductive of ideas, and has no connection with the habits that really matter.
Those who still want to know what the Earth is like, have only to look into some cinematophote.
[whirring.]
Who's there? Who's there? [electric fizzling.]
[steady bleeping.]
[fizzling and bleeping becoming louder.]
[woman over Machine.]
Have you seen him? [Vashti.]
No.
I haven't communicated with my son for nearly two Machine years.
- We have nothing in common.
- What happened? He was reverting to some savage type.
The very hair on his head showed that.
On atavism the Machine can have no mercy.
What did he do? He wanted to go outside, to the surface of the Earth.
He went, without an Egression permit.
How extraordinary.
What did the Central Committee think about that? They were most displeased.
They threatened him with homelessness.
- Only threatened? - Fortunately for him.
What a distressing time it must have been for you.
I find comfort in the Machine, my friend.
A strange feeling of peace comes over me when I handle the Book.
I believe I am growing more spiritual.
Naturally.
The Machine feeds us, and clothes us, and houses us.
The Machine is the friend of ideas and the enemy of superstition.
The Machine is omnipotent, eternal.
- Blessed is the Machine.
- Yes.
I think it is the Mending Apparatus, that most impresses me.
I often ask it to intercede on my behalf.
- For me it is the Book.
- Praise the Machine.
Praise the Machine.
I asked for euthanasia again today.
Why? My lecture was unsuccessful.
I wanted the homelessness that is beyond all human conception.
I am easily depressed these days.
The death rate is not permitted to exceed the birth rate.
- Were you refused? - Yes.
Oh, there was never a more unfortunate woman than myself.
I can't even be sure of my lecture music these days.
It gets worse and worse each time I summon it.
l, too, have my troubles.
Sometimes my ideas are interrupted by a slight jarring noise.
What is it? I do not know, whether it is inside my head or inside the wall.
- Complain, in either case.
- I have complained.
My complaint was forwarded to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
What did they say? They said the defect would be put right shortly.
- Praise the Machine.
- Praise the Machine.
[high-pitched whirring.]
[Vashti.]
I wish to complain to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
Itâs about my music.
It still gets worse and worse.
[Machine.]
The defect will be set right shortly.
Shortly? At once! Why should I be worried by imperfect music? If you do not mend it at once, I shall complain to the Central Committee.
No personal complaints are received by the Central Committee.
To whom should I make my complaint then? - Through us.
- I complain then.
Your complaint shall be forwarded in its turn.
Have others complained? That question is unmechanical.
The Committee cannot answer it.
[buzzing.]
Who is it? Iâm tired.
Mother? - Who is it? - Kuno.
[Vashti.]
Where are you? What happened to you? [Kuno.]
Iâm well.
I was transformed not far away from you.
We are quite close.
Visualise your face.
The Machine has been most merciful.
You could have been rendered homeless.
I know.
Instead they have merely kept me in my cell, denied me all human contact, refused me permission to become a father, abolished respirators-- Why have you called me? I have discovered a new thought.
Tell it to me then.
Itâs a terrible thought, it will frighten you.
Fear is out of date.
Tell me.
The Machine stops.
What do you say? The Machine is stopping.
I know the signs.
[scoffs.]
Can you imagine anything more absurd? [chuckling.]
I know the signs, I tell you.
The bath water is no longer fresh, the artificial fruit is mouldy.
There are defective rhymes emitted - by the poetry machine.
- Don't be angry.
I couldn't help laughing.
Even if your ridiculous ideas were true, the Mending Apparatus would soon put all these things right.
No one understands the Machine as a whole any more.
What nonsense! There are master brains who understand every part of it.
Those master brains have perished.
They have left full directions.
True, but their successors have each of them only mastered a portion of those directions.
This is the madness, Kuno, madness of another kind.
Have you had no troubles? I have detected a slight sigh at the crisis of the Brisbane Symphony, that is all I have to complain of.
What does it sound like? Like someone in pain.
But the Committee of the Mending Apparatus tell me that it shall be remedied shortly.
Have you complained to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus? Of course.
Complain again, and see what happens.
Kuno! Kuno! Ridiculous boy.
Absurd! The Machine stops! The phrase means nothing, nothing at all.
[random voices echoing.]
Someone is meddling with the Machine! Someone is trying to make himself king, to introduce the personal element.
Punish the man with homelessness.
To the rescue! Avenge the Machine! Avenge the Machine! War! Kill the man! [laughing.]
[clanking.]
What's happened? It will not work.
Are you there? Are you there, my friend, or are you asleep? [woman over Machine.]
How can I sleep? Over the whole world, Vashti, think of it, over the whole world.
ln Sumatra, in Wessex, in the innumerable cities of Courtland and Brazil, beds failed to appear.
[buzzing.]
[Machine.]
Your attention, please.
This is an official announcement by the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
There has been widespread failure in the appearance of beds.
There should be no panic.
Repeat, there should be no panic.
The reason is simple and un-alarming.
The Mending Apparatus is itself in need of mending.
[woman over machine.]
I see.
A frank confession.
ln its own good time it will resume its duties.
Don't worry.
The Machine still links us.
Under the seas, beneath the roots of the mountains, run the wires through which we see and hear.
- But have you heard the rumour? - What rumour? - About euthanasia.
- Iâve heard nothing.
There is a rumour that euthanasia, too, is out of action.
And that pain and suffering have reappeared among men.
Impossible! I cannot believe it.
You have been listening to subversive gossip, Vashti.
It will land you in trouble one day.
Why? I have heard talk of 'measures'.
- What measures? - Oh, it was hysterical talk, of course, but someone was mentioning the possibility of a 'provisional dictatorship'.
The inhabitants of Sumatra have even been asked to familiarise themselves with the workings of the central power station in case.
If the Machine has any enemies, Iâm sure they will soon be got under.
I have heard that new nerve centres are evolving, to do the work even more magnificently than before.
Yes, courage Courage! What matters so long as the Machine goes on? To it the darkness and the light are one! Excuse me, I have a lecture to give.
[Vashti over recorder.]
I shall continue my lecture on Australian music [becoming crackly, distorted.]
in the pre-Mongolian period.
Describing the great outburst of song that followed the Chinese conquest.
[Vashti's voice becomes increasingly fragmented.]
Remote and primeval [crackling.]
as were the methods of l-San-So and the Brisbane School.
Yet, I think that study of these might repay the musicians of today.
They had, above all, freshness.
They had ideas.
At last.
What's happened? I complain! Friends! Friends! There was no applause, it's most distressing! I am greatly in need of sympathy Friends! [crackling.]
The Machine stops [speaking quickly.]
I wish to make a complaint to the Central Committee, I wish to complain to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus, I wish to complain [repeating rapidly.]
[whirring.]
What's wrong? Silence! [high-pitched sonic wailing.]
[man screams.]
[high-pitched sonic wailing.]
[sonic wailing continues.]
[thunderous explosion.]
I am trying to find the way to the cell of Vashti, daughter of Morder.
Sacred Book! Holy Book! Save me from this! I pray, I venerate you Bring back civilisation! Don't let it end! [weeping.]
Kuno! I want to see my Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [wheezing.]
Kuno! Kuno! [whirring.]
[screams.]
[crash.]
[Vashti.]
Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [Kuno.]
Mother.
- Where are you? - Here - Is there any hope? - None for us.
Century after century we have toiled.
Is this our reward? - Where are you? - Over here.
Quicker Iâm dying.
The air is going.
[panting.]
Man is dying, Mother.
Man, flower of all flesh, the noblest of all creatures visible.
Man, who has once made God in his own image, and has mirrored his strength on the constellations, man is dying, strangled in the garments he has woven.
But we touch, we talk, not through the Machine.
Yes, you were right, Kuno.
I know now what was important on Earth.
We have come back to our own.
We die, but we have recaptured life.
We know what they know outside.
Kuno, is it true? Are there still men on the surface of the Earth? Is this tunnel really not the end, this poisoned darkness? I have seen them, Mother.
They are hiding in the mist and the ferns, until our civilisation stops.
Today, they are the homeless.
Tomorrow Oh, tomorrow! Some fool will start the Machine again tomorrow.
Never.
Never! Humanity has learnt its lesson.
[thunderous explosion.]
[air rustling.]
[wind blowing loudly.]
[recorded male voice.]
Above you, beneath you, around you is the Machine.
The Earth, carrying you, speeds through space, turning you now to the invisible sun, now to the invisible stars.
But deep down in the Machine, you have your own darkness, and your own light.
Thanks to the universal establishment of the Machine, each of you, in your room, is in touch with all that you care for in the world.
And if you have any queries, refer to the book published by the Central Committee.
ln the book are instructions against every, possible contingency.
If you are hot, or cold, or dyspeptic, or at a loss for a word, or how to phrase a sentence, go to the book.
[electronic buzzing.]
I suppose I must see who it is.
Who is it? Mother? Itâs Kuno.
I want to speak to you.
Very well.
I will isolate myself.
I do not expect anything important will happen for the next five minutes.
Yes, I give you fully five minutes, Kuno.
Then I must deliver one of my lectures on music during the Australian period.
[whirring.]
Be quick.
Be quick, Kuno.
Here I am in the dark, wasting my time! Iâve called you before, Mother, but you were always busy or isolated.
I have something particular to say.
Why couldn't you have sent it by pneumatic post? Because I prefer saying such a thing.
I want you to come and see me.
But I can see you! From the other side of the Earth I can see you.
What more do you want? Pay me a visit.
Come and stop with me.
I want to see you, not through the Machine.
I want to speak to you, not through the wearisome Machine.
Shh! You mustn't say anything against the Machine.
- Why not? - One mustn't, that's all.
You talk as if God had made the Machine.
Men made it, do not forget that.
Great men, but men.
The Machine is much, but not everything.
I see something like you in this plate, but I do not see you.
I hear something like you in this receiver, but I do not hear you.
That is why I want you to come, so that we can meet face to face, and talk about the hopes that are in my mind.
I can scarcely spare the time for a visit.
It barely takes two hours to fly between Australia and Devon.
- I dislike the aeroship.
- Why? I dislike seeing the horrible brown Earth, and the sea, and the stars when it is dark.
I get no ideas in the air.
I do not get them anywhere else.
What kind of ideas can the air give you? Do you know four big stars that form an oblong? And three stars close together in the middle of the oblong? And hanging from these stars, three other stars? I had an idea they were like a man.
I don't understand.
The four big stars are the man's shoulders, and his knees.
The three in the middle are like belts that men wore once, and the three stars hanging are like a sword.
It doesn't strike me as a very good idea, but it's certainly original.
- When did it first come to you? - In the aeroship.
I want to see those stars again, not from the aeroship, but from the surface of the Earth, as our ancestors did.
I want to visit the surface of the Earth.
- Kuno! - Mother, you must come.
If only to explain to me, what is the harm of visiting the surface of the Earth.
No harm, but no advantage.
The surface of the Earth is only dust and mud, no life remains on it.
You would need a respirator, or the cold of the outer air would kill you.
One dies immediately in the outer air.
I know.
Of course I shall take all precautions.
- And besides - Well? It is contrary to the spirit of the age.
You mean, contrary to the Machine! ln a sense but Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [fragmented voices in Vashti's head.]
[Kuno.]
Men made it, do not forget that.
[Kuno.]
I want you to come-- [Vashti.]
I dislike-- [echoes.]
[Vashti.]
No ideas ln the air-- [Kuno.]
I want to see you The Earth, he surface of the Earth-- [Vashti.]
Kuno! [fragmented echoes.]
[Vashti.]
No harm, but no advantage.
[recording of Vashti.]
And there was, at one time, in one of the civilisations before ours, high hope of neutralising the Earth's diurnal revolution.
But that hope, together with hopes that were possibly higher, have passed.
Those were the old days, when men went out for a change of air, instead of changing the air in their rooms.
Today I will do it.
[whirring.]
I will not use the Machine, I will do it myself.
[steady beeping.]
I must I must! I must! [beeping continues.]
I wish to put in an application to the Central Committee.
I wish to put in an application to become a father.
[Machine.]
Your application will be considered.
You will be informed of the result in due course.
[running water.]
[recorded voice.]
To keep pace with the sun, or even to outstrip it, had been the aim of the civilisation preceding our own.
Racing aeroplanes were built for the purpose, capable of enormous speed.
Horrible accidents occurred, and the committee of the Machine, at the time rising into prominence, declared the pursuit illegal, unmechanical, and punishable by homelessness.
O machine, O machine, O machine.
I have not the time.
[laughing.]
[laughing.]
[whirring.]
[rush of air.]
Air! [whirring.]
Air [whirring continues.]
I shall do it yet.
[woman over the Machine.]
What is that new food like? Can you recommend it? The new food is horrible.
The new make-up is a success.
Have you had any ideas recently? None of my own.
But I have just been told one.
That four stars and three in the middle are like a man.
I doubt there is much in it.
Who gave you that idea? One of my sons.
But I suppose it's just the nonsense of a youthful man.
Have you seen him since his removal to the public nurseries? Yes, I made one visit there, and he came to visit me, until the Machine assigned him a room on the other side of the Earth.
He visited you? Yes, there was something special about Kuno.
[whirring.]
[electronic pulsing.]
[Machine.]
Citizen Kuno, it is noted that you have a certain physical strength.
ln these days, it is a demerit to be muscular.
Each infant is examined at birth, and all who promise undue strength are destroyed.
Man must be adapted to his surroundings, and the strong must suffer euthanasia.
There would be grave danger, that, in the event of your becoming a father, your physical characteristics would be transmitted to your son.
Therefore your application to become a father is refused, that the Machine may progress That the Machine may progress That the Machine may progress eternally [echoes.]
I wish to summon a respirator! [Vashti.]
Kuno! Kuno! Kuno, have you been to the surface of the Earth? Not yet.
Tell me what you wanted to tell me.
I will not talk to you until you come.
Use the communication system.
I know all about the obsolete communication system.
Iâve studied the civilisation immediately preceding our own, and I know that it mistook the functions of the system, and used it for bringing people to things, instead of bringing things to people.
Nowadays, spiritually minded people don't travel.
- Mother! - Rapid intercourse, from which previous civilisations hoped so much, has ended up defeating itself.
What's the good of going to Pekin when it's just like Shrewsbury? Why return to Shrewsbury when it's just like Pekin? Nowadays, men seldom move their bodies.
Yes, all unrest is concentrated in the soul.
And besides it would mean direct experience.
Why do you not come to me instead? Because I cannot leave this place.
Why not? Because any moment something tremendous may happen.
What? I will not tell you through the Machine.
Kuno.
Kuno.
Kuno, I cannot come to see you.
I am not well.
Doctor [whirring.]
[Vashti's heartbeat.]
[air rustling.]
[electric motor and rush of air.]
[thunderous explosion.]
[birds cawing.]
[gasping.]
[breathing.]
[deep, slow whirring.]
[birds cawing.]
[rustling.]
[pants.]
[gasps.]
[cawing continues.]
Ah! [faint beeping.]
[faint electric fizzling.]
[loud electric fizzling.]
[loud electric fizzling.]
[screaming.]
[screams.]
[fizzling continues.]
[muffled screaming.]
The duties of parents cease at the moment of birth, when the baby is removed to a public nursery.
Kuno.
Kuno.
O Machine Attendant? Attendant! Who are they? Young males sent out from the public nurseries, to inhabit the rooms of those who have died in the various parts of the Earth.
He is on a homeward journey, sent to Sumatra for the purpose of propagating the race.
- Where are we now? - We are over Asia.
Asia? You must excuse my way of speaking.
Iâve got into the habit of calling places over which we pass, - by their unmechanical names.
- Oh, I remember Asia.
Those mountains on the right, let me show you them.
[whirring.]
The Himalayas.
Once called 'The Roof of the World' those mountains.
What a foolish name.
Advanced mechanical language is much more convenient, as taught in the Book.
You must remember that before the dawn of civilisation, they seemed to be an impenetrable wall, that touched the stars.
It was supposed that no one but the gods could exist above their summits.
How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine.
How we have advanced, thanks to the Machine.
And that white stuff in the cracks.
What is it? Iâve forgotten its name.
Cover the windows, please.
These mountains give me no ideas.
We have indeed advanced.
[whirring.]
I have had the most terrible journey, Kuno, and greatly retarded the development of my soul.
Itâs not worth it, Kuno, it's not worth it.
The sunlight almost touched my face.
I can only stay a few moments, so say what you have to say and then I must return.
Iâve been threatened with homelessness.
Iâve been threatened with homelessness.
I could not tell you such a thing through the Machine.
Homelessness means death! They will kill you! What have you done? Iâve been outside since I spoke to you last.
And they discovered me.
But why shouldn't you go outside? Itâs perfectly legal to visit the surface of the Earth, perfectly mechanical.
One simply summons a respirator and gets an Egression permit.
Itâs not the kind of thing that spiritually minded people do, and I begged you not to do it, but there is no legal objection to it.
I did not get an Egression permit.
Then how did you get out? - I found a way of my own.
- I don't understand.
A way of my own.
A way of your own! But that would be wrong.
Why? You're beginning to worship the Machine.
You think it irreligious to have found out a way of my own.
I worship nothing.
I am most advanced.
I do not think you irreligious, because there's no such thing as religion left.
All I meant was And besides, there is no new way out.
So it is always supposed.
Except through the vomitories, for which one must have an Egression permit, it is impossible to get out.
The Book says so.
Well, the Book's wrong, for I have been outside on foot.
Do you know that we have lost the sense of space? Well, I determined to recover it and I began by walking up and down the tunnel outside my room.
That was my first lesson.
Man's feet are the measure for distance, his hands are the measure for ownership, his body is the measure for all that is lovable, and desirable and strong.
I developed my sense of space, and my muscles.
I think I should have been content with this, but as I walked and brooded, it occurred to me, that our cities had been built when men still breathed the outer air, and that there had been ventilation shafts for the workmen.
Had they been destroyed, by all the food tubes, and medicine tubes, and music tubes, that the Machine had evolved? Or did traces of them remain? One thing was certain.
If I came upon them anywhere, it would be in the tunnels of the topmost storey.
Don't think that l was not a coward.
It is not the proper thing, it is not mechanical, it's not decent to walk along a tunnel.
I did not fear that I might tread on a live rail and be killed.
I feared something far more intangible doing what was not contemplated by the Machine.
Then I said to myself, âMan is the measureâ, and I went.
Don't.
Don't talk of these terrible things.
You are throwing civilisation away.
But Iâd got back the sense of space.
I climbed out into the outer air.
As I climbed, silence came.
The Machine hums.
Did you know that? I thought, âThis silence means that I am doing wrong.
â But the spirits of the dead comforted me.
I felt that, for the first time, a protest had been lodged against corruption, and all these tubes and buttons and machineries, neither came into the world with us, nor will they follow us out, neither do they matter supremely while we are here.
Kuno, there is no room for such a person in the world.
You are fated.
I am ashamed to have borne such a son.
Don't touch me! We are too different, Mother.
I don't think this is interesting you.
There are no ideas in it.
You have brought me across the world to hear you.
So tell me what happened.
I came out in the hills of Wessex.
I knew it was Wessex, because I had taken care to study a lecture on the subject before starting.
I was in a hollow.
The air filled my hollow as water fills a bowl.
I could crawl about.
I breathed a mixture in which the air that hurts, predominated whenever I tried to climb the sides.
I saw low, colourless hills.
And I felt that those hills had called with incalculable force to men in the past, and that men had loved them.
Now they sleep, perhaps for ever.
But happy the man, happy the woman, who awakes the hills of Wessex.
For though they sleep, they will never die.
You talk like the old literature.
We have harnessed Leviathan, Kuno.
All this praise of nature, all this fear of nature, they ring false as the prattle of a child.
Cannot you see, cannot all you lecturers see, that it is we who are dying.
We created the Machine to do our will, but it cannot do our will now.
It has robbed us of the sense of space, the sense of touch.
It has blurred every human relation-- Nonsense! I know several thousand people.
Human relationship has advanced enormously.
ln certain directions.
But what of love? The Machine has reduced love to a carnal act.
Oh, the Machine develops, but not on our lines.
The Machine proceeds, but not to our goal.
If it could work without us, it would let us die.
- Blasphemies, blasphemies! - Oh, I have no remedy or at least, only one.
To tell men, again and again Blasphemies.
Blasphemies.
that I have seen the hills of Wessex, as Alfred saw them when he overthrew the Danes.
That is not what I meant.
Tell me how you returned to civilisation.
You crawled along the surface of the Earth to a vomitory, and there your conduct was reported to the Central Committee? By no means.
I had a pool of air, which was escaping from the ventilation shaft.
But by evening, the air had begun to stop.
Not until it was too late, did I realise what the stoppage implied.
You see, the gap in the tunnel had been mended.
Yes.
The Mending Apparatus.
The Mending Apparatus was after me.
Worms, long white worms I cried out, I cried for help.
I was dragged away from the living hills and the last thing I saw before the stopper closed over us were certain clouds, and I knew that a man of my sort lived in the sky.
Then I woke up in this room, surrounded by artificial air, artificial light, artificial peace.
- It will end in homelessness.
- I wish it would.
The Machine has been most merciful.
I prefer the mercy of God.
By that superstitious phrase, do you mean you could live in the outer air? Yes.
Have you ever seen round the vomitories, the bones of those who were extruded after the Great Rebellion? - Yes.
- They were left where they perished for our edification.
A few crawled away, but they too perished.
Who can doubt it? And so with the homeless of our own day.
The surface of the Earth supports life no longer.
Ferns and a little grass maybe, but all higher forms have perished.
Has any aeroship detected them? No.
Has any lecturer dealt with them? No.
Then why this obstinacy? Because I have seen her in the sunlight.
Because she came to my help when I called.
Because she, too, was entangled by the worms and, luckier than I, was killed by one of them piercing her throat! [whirring.]
He is mad.
[low humming.]
I want to summon a respirator.
[Machine.]
That, and nothing else? Nothing else.
No gloves for your hands? No hygienic clothes? - No dietetic tabloids? - No.
Respirators have been abolished.
Abolished! But why? Advanced thinkers have always held it foolish to visit the surface of the Earth.
It is unproductive of ideas, and has no connection with the habits that really matter.
Those who still want to know what the Earth is like, have only to look into some cinematophote.
[whirring.]
Who's there? Who's there? [electric fizzling.]
[steady bleeping.]
[fizzling and bleeping becoming louder.]
[woman over Machine.]
Have you seen him? [Vashti.]
No.
I haven't communicated with my son for nearly two Machine years.
- We have nothing in common.
- What happened? He was reverting to some savage type.
The very hair on his head showed that.
On atavism the Machine can have no mercy.
What did he do? He wanted to go outside, to the surface of the Earth.
He went, without an Egression permit.
How extraordinary.
What did the Central Committee think about that? They were most displeased.
They threatened him with homelessness.
- Only threatened? - Fortunately for him.
What a distressing time it must have been for you.
I find comfort in the Machine, my friend.
A strange feeling of peace comes over me when I handle the Book.
I believe I am growing more spiritual.
Naturally.
The Machine feeds us, and clothes us, and houses us.
The Machine is the friend of ideas and the enemy of superstition.
The Machine is omnipotent, eternal.
- Blessed is the Machine.
- Yes.
I think it is the Mending Apparatus, that most impresses me.
I often ask it to intercede on my behalf.
- For me it is the Book.
- Praise the Machine.
Praise the Machine.
I asked for euthanasia again today.
Why? My lecture was unsuccessful.
I wanted the homelessness that is beyond all human conception.
I am easily depressed these days.
The death rate is not permitted to exceed the birth rate.
- Were you refused? - Yes.
Oh, there was never a more unfortunate woman than myself.
I can't even be sure of my lecture music these days.
It gets worse and worse each time I summon it.
l, too, have my troubles.
Sometimes my ideas are interrupted by a slight jarring noise.
What is it? I do not know, whether it is inside my head or inside the wall.
- Complain, in either case.
- I have complained.
My complaint was forwarded to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
What did they say? They said the defect would be put right shortly.
- Praise the Machine.
- Praise the Machine.
[high-pitched whirring.]
[Vashti.]
I wish to complain to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
Itâs about my music.
It still gets worse and worse.
[Machine.]
The defect will be set right shortly.
Shortly? At once! Why should I be worried by imperfect music? If you do not mend it at once, I shall complain to the Central Committee.
No personal complaints are received by the Central Committee.
To whom should I make my complaint then? - Through us.
- I complain then.
Your complaint shall be forwarded in its turn.
Have others complained? That question is unmechanical.
The Committee cannot answer it.
[buzzing.]
Who is it? Iâm tired.
Mother? - Who is it? - Kuno.
[Vashti.]
Where are you? What happened to you? [Kuno.]
Iâm well.
I was transformed not far away from you.
We are quite close.
Visualise your face.
The Machine has been most merciful.
You could have been rendered homeless.
I know.
Instead they have merely kept me in my cell, denied me all human contact, refused me permission to become a father, abolished respirators-- Why have you called me? I have discovered a new thought.
Tell it to me then.
Itâs a terrible thought, it will frighten you.
Fear is out of date.
Tell me.
The Machine stops.
What do you say? The Machine is stopping.
I know the signs.
[scoffs.]
Can you imagine anything more absurd? [chuckling.]
I know the signs, I tell you.
The bath water is no longer fresh, the artificial fruit is mouldy.
There are defective rhymes emitted - by the poetry machine.
- Don't be angry.
I couldn't help laughing.
Even if your ridiculous ideas were true, the Mending Apparatus would soon put all these things right.
No one understands the Machine as a whole any more.
What nonsense! There are master brains who understand every part of it.
Those master brains have perished.
They have left full directions.
True, but their successors have each of them only mastered a portion of those directions.
This is the madness, Kuno, madness of another kind.
Have you had no troubles? I have detected a slight sigh at the crisis of the Brisbane Symphony, that is all I have to complain of.
What does it sound like? Like someone in pain.
But the Committee of the Mending Apparatus tell me that it shall be remedied shortly.
Have you complained to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus? Of course.
Complain again, and see what happens.
Kuno! Kuno! Ridiculous boy.
Absurd! The Machine stops! The phrase means nothing, nothing at all.
[random voices echoing.]
Someone is meddling with the Machine! Someone is trying to make himself king, to introduce the personal element.
Punish the man with homelessness.
To the rescue! Avenge the Machine! Avenge the Machine! War! Kill the man! [laughing.]
[clanking.]
What's happened? It will not work.
Are you there? Are you there, my friend, or are you asleep? [woman over Machine.]
How can I sleep? Over the whole world, Vashti, think of it, over the whole world.
ln Sumatra, in Wessex, in the innumerable cities of Courtland and Brazil, beds failed to appear.
[buzzing.]
[Machine.]
Your attention, please.
This is an official announcement by the Committee of the Mending Apparatus.
There has been widespread failure in the appearance of beds.
There should be no panic.
Repeat, there should be no panic.
The reason is simple and un-alarming.
The Mending Apparatus is itself in need of mending.
[woman over machine.]
I see.
A frank confession.
ln its own good time it will resume its duties.
Don't worry.
The Machine still links us.
Under the seas, beneath the roots of the mountains, run the wires through which we see and hear.
- But have you heard the rumour? - What rumour? - About euthanasia.
- Iâve heard nothing.
There is a rumour that euthanasia, too, is out of action.
And that pain and suffering have reappeared among men.
Impossible! I cannot believe it.
You have been listening to subversive gossip, Vashti.
It will land you in trouble one day.
Why? I have heard talk of 'measures'.
- What measures? - Oh, it was hysterical talk, of course, but someone was mentioning the possibility of a 'provisional dictatorship'.
The inhabitants of Sumatra have even been asked to familiarise themselves with the workings of the central power station in case.
If the Machine has any enemies, Iâm sure they will soon be got under.
I have heard that new nerve centres are evolving, to do the work even more magnificently than before.
Yes, courage Courage! What matters so long as the Machine goes on? To it the darkness and the light are one! Excuse me, I have a lecture to give.
[Vashti over recorder.]
I shall continue my lecture on Australian music [becoming crackly, distorted.]
in the pre-Mongolian period.
Describing the great outburst of song that followed the Chinese conquest.
[Vashti's voice becomes increasingly fragmented.]
Remote and primeval [crackling.]
as were the methods of l-San-So and the Brisbane School.
Yet, I think that study of these might repay the musicians of today.
They had, above all, freshness.
They had ideas.
At last.
What's happened? I complain! Friends! Friends! There was no applause, it's most distressing! I am greatly in need of sympathy Friends! [crackling.]
The Machine stops [speaking quickly.]
I wish to make a complaint to the Central Committee, I wish to complain to the Committee of the Mending Apparatus, I wish to complain [repeating rapidly.]
[whirring.]
What's wrong? Silence! [high-pitched sonic wailing.]
[man screams.]
[high-pitched sonic wailing.]
[sonic wailing continues.]
[thunderous explosion.]
I am trying to find the way to the cell of Vashti, daughter of Morder.
Sacred Book! Holy Book! Save me from this! I pray, I venerate you Bring back civilisation! Don't let it end! [weeping.]
Kuno! I want to see my Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [wheezing.]
Kuno! Kuno! [whirring.]
[screams.]
[crash.]
[Vashti.]
Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! Kuno! [Kuno.]
Mother.
- Where are you? - Here - Is there any hope? - None for us.
Century after century we have toiled.
Is this our reward? - Where are you? - Over here.
Quicker Iâm dying.
The air is going.
[panting.]
Man is dying, Mother.
Man, flower of all flesh, the noblest of all creatures visible.
Man, who has once made God in his own image, and has mirrored his strength on the constellations, man is dying, strangled in the garments he has woven.
But we touch, we talk, not through the Machine.
Yes, you were right, Kuno.
I know now what was important on Earth.
We have come back to our own.
We die, but we have recaptured life.
We know what they know outside.
Kuno, is it true? Are there still men on the surface of the Earth? Is this tunnel really not the end, this poisoned darkness? I have seen them, Mother.
They are hiding in the mist and the ferns, until our civilisation stops.
Today, they are the homeless.
Tomorrow Oh, tomorrow! Some fool will start the Machine again tomorrow.
Never.
Never! Humanity has learnt its lesson.
[thunderous explosion.]
[air rustling.]
[wind blowing loudly.]