In his stateroom John sat down carefully on the bed near the large main port. He had a sudden curious feeling of numbness as if the whole world were something that was happening to him.
He saw in the west, beyond the city, the mile-wide crater now filled with water, like some pleasant lake with the afternoon sun glistening on it. He couldn't see the high, electric fence that walled off the entire area as too contaminated for human occupancy. He didn’t know how, but he had a feeling that it concerned him, deeply.
Below the steel column of the ship, the ground — almost two hundred feet away — was littered with moving people, movements at once erratic and purposeful. They were something happening to him, too.
And the girl, the girl in the flame-red dress. She had happened to him.
It had always been that way; it was a little frightening to recognize that all his life things and people had happened to him as if he were a prop on some fantastic stage.
He stood up and tried to shrug off the feeling. He heard Doris, unseen beyond the door of her adjacent stateroom, moving luggage, snapping lids, and closing drawers with shattering efficiency. Things didn't happen to her; she did the shaping. The world of Doris Carwell was exactly the way she wanted it to be.
Without unpacking, John shoved his hands in his pockets and strode from the room. He made his way through the corridors, unaware of where he was going, half-angry with himself for not knowing. Abruptly, he found himself in the main lounge. The huge hall was dark and, he thought, unoccupied. Then he spotted a familiar flash of color in a far corner.
It was too much to expect, but there she was, the girl he had met at the gate. She was sitting curled up with a plain yellow cat on her lap. Her fingers stroked its ears gently.
He couldn’t have told why it gave him such pleasure to see her. But there was a sudden sense of loss, too, as he remembered her final words. “I hadn’t hoped to see you again so soon,” he said. “Do you mind if I join you and —?”
“Toby,” she said. “This is Toby; they let me bring him along. I’m not supposed to be down here, but he got away when I took him from the baggage room, and I chased him in here.
“I guess we don’t have very long before take-off, do we?”
“I didn’t understand what you said at the gate,” John said. “What was that about a Control? I’ve heard the word, but it’s always been used like a nasty name.”
“Maybe it is. The recruiting-agent who signed me up said different.” She mimicked: “‘You will be giving the same selfless, devoted service to mankind that is being offered by those even in Alpha Colony.’ Anyway, I wouldn’t have come except as a Control.”
“What does it mean?”
“They explained that when a scientist conducts an experiment he performs his work on one batch of material, and leaves another completely untouched in order to compare the two and see what changes are made by his experiment.
“So, on Planet 7 there are colonies of people who live in completely natural circumstances, self-governed and uncared-for, except as they can find subsistence out of the jungle itself. The products of the experimental colonies are then compared with us unfettered Controls to see what the benefits are.”
“I shouldn’t think it would be necessary to set up special Control-colonies on Planet 7; Earth itself should be sufficient.”
“There are too many random factors — social and economic — all of which are too hard to evaluate. At least, that’s the way they explained it to me.”
“But how can you get away from these things out in the Alpha system? The technology is there; people retain their memories and the same social and economic problems exist.”
“On a slightly different level,” she said. “When you’re turned loose in a jungle, and have to scratch with your bare hands for existence most of the extraneous factors are gradually dropped. That’s the word they used, extraneous.”
John sat back, horrified. “You mean that’s the kind of existence you’re going to for the rest of your life? A primitive jungle-life, with no civilization whatever? It would kill you or make a savage out of you.”
“That’s a thing the scientists want to find out,” said the girl. “They say that’s the way humanity started out, and we nave almost completed a full circle. They want to learn at what point humanity should have turned aside in order to have kept climbing.”
“That’s horrible — deliberately turning you into savages in order to test a theory.”
“Well, don’t feel so sorry for me. Exactly what do you think they are going to do to you?”
“I don’t know,” he said in sudden weariness. “I think that I would rather never have heard of Human Developments Project.”
“Then you’d better get off the ship in a hurry,” she said lightly, “because there’s the take-off warning. We’ve got to get to our cabins and on the take-off couch before the next bell. Come on, Toby!”
3
He was sick during the take-off. When they were finally in space he sat up, his head balloon-like and his stomach spinning. He saw Doris leaning calmly by the port, watching the dwindling Earth. For a moment he hated her cool competence and self containment. He would have to be the one to get sick.
“Feeling better, Johnny?” She came over, smiling with the sympathy of a superior creature. “It hit you pretty rough. The steward said they don’t usually go out like that.”
“I'm all right.”
For the rest of the day he stayed in the stateroom. He watched the fading disk of Earth; the overdrive wouldn’t be keyed in for another day. Even though it gave him a sickening vertigo. he could not resist the hypnotic last look at his home land.
He wanted to forego dinner entirely that evening, but when Doris offered to have the steward bring it to his room, he refused the suggestion. “I can make it to the diningroom,” he said.
He didn’t tell her the one reason he wanted to go; he could scarcely admit to himself that it was only to meet again the girl who wore the flame-red dress and owned a yellow cat. He told himself he wanted to see his fellow passengers, to meet the others who were foolhardy enough to give up all they possessed on Earth for this Human Developments experiment.
He walked slowly through the diningroom, Doris’ hand upon his arm. He scanned the surrounding tables for the one familiar face, but he failed to see her anywhere.
Then he thought he understood. It was a small diningroom, and certainly not all those who had boarded the ship were here. Each colony-group undoubtedly had its own section and facilities; he asked the waiter about it.
The man nodded. “This is Alpha Colony,” he said. “Beta, Gamma and Delta recruits are on the other decks. Is there someone you wish to find?”
He hesitated. “I have a friend — a Control.”
“I'm sorry, sir,” said the waiter; “surely they must have told you. There’s no communication permitted between Control-colonists and any of the experimental groups — for purposes of the experiment, you understand. You may check with your indoctrination supervisor, sir, if there is any misunderstanding about this.”
There is no misunderstanding, John thought dully. It was just another of the things that were happening to him. And this, he didn’t want. It seemed suddenly of vital importance that he see again the girl in the flame-red dress. He did not even know her name. He could not speak of her or ask about her by name, he thought.
“Don’t you feel like eating?” said Doris.
“I guess my stomach can’t take this yet”
Shipboard indoctrination-courses were held for each separate group, to acquaint them further with the work of their colony. A Dr. Martin Bronson was supervisor of the Alpha Colony group. John met him the following day, when he came to the stateroom to introduce himself.