Page 171 - BraveNewWorld

IDPH 171

Undeterred by that cautionary bruise on their colleague’s coccyx, four other
reporters, representing the New York Times, the Frankfurt Four- Dimensional
Continuum, The Fordian Science Monitor, and The Delta Mirror, called that
afternoon at the lighthouse and met with receptions of progressively increasing
violence.
From a safe distance and still rubbing his buttocks, “Benighted fool!” shouted
the man from The Fordian Science Monitor, “why don’t you take soma?”
“Get away!” The Savage shook his fist.
The other retreated a few steps then turned round again. “Evil’s an unreality if
you take a couple of grammes.”
“Kohakwa iyathtokyai!” The tone was menacingly derisive.
“Pain’s a delusion.”

“Oh, is it?” said the Savage and, picking up a thick hazel switch, strode
forward.
The man from The Fordian Science Monitor made a dash for his helicopter.

After that the Savage was left for a time in peace. A few helicopters came and
hovered inquisitively round the tower. He shot an arrow into the importunately
nearest of them. It pierced the aluminum floor of the cabin; there was a shrill
yell, and the machine went rocketing up into the air with all the acceleration
that its super-charger could give it. The others, in future, kept their distance
respectfully. Ignoring their tiresome humming (he likened himself in his imagi-
nation to one of the suitors of the Maiden of Mátsaki, unmoved and persistent
among the winged vermin), the Savage dug at what was to be his garden. After
a time the vermin evidently became bored and flew away; for hours at a stretch
the sky above his head was empty and, but for the larks, silent.
The weather was breathlessly hot, there was thunder in the air. He had dug
all the morning and was resting, stretched out along the floor. And suddenly
the thought of Lenina was a real presence, naked and tangible, saying “Swe-
et!” and “Put your arms round me¡‘-in shoes and socks, perfumed. Impudent
strumpet! But oh, oh, her arms round his neck, the lifting of her breasts, her
mouth! Eternity was in our lips and eyes. Lenina. No, no, no, no! He sprang
to his feet and, half naked as he was, ran out of the house. At the edge of the
heath stood a clump of hoary juniper bushes. He flung himself against them,
he embraced, not the smooth body of his desires, but an armful of green spikes.
Sharp, with a thousand points, they pricked him. He tried to think of poor Lin-
da, breathless and dumb, with her clutching hands and the unutterable terror
in her eyes. Poor Linda whom he had sworn to remember. But it was still the
presence of Lenina that haunted him. Lenina whom he had promised to forget.

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