Adapted from:
“Whew! Sure is hot around here.”
“Must be close to a hundred and twenty in the shade, I bet.”
“Shade? You must be seeing a mirage! There’re no trees for hundreds of miles around.”
“I didn’t mean trees, old man. I meant the clouds. Those water-vapour-plus-xenon contraptions overhead that the Chief concocted for us. Beats me why they don’t evaporate at this temperature. Well, I never was much of a scientist, just a plain old construction worker. In fact, I never was much of a scholar altogether. And never will be, I guess.”
“Oh, don’t say that. The Chief doesn’t like such talk. He intends to make scholars of us all — that’s what the daily classes are about. Sharpen the mind, increase perception, shake off superstitions. You know, make moral people out of us through the intellectual approach. Don’t you go for them?”
“Oh, yes. I love the classes, they’re really cool. Besides, they make me feel part of this whole project. Sort of gives us a sense of pride and togetherness we wouldn’t feel otherwise. The Chief knows what he’s doing, all right.”
“No doubt about that. Never saw such a capable man in my life. And to think of what he left, first to come and help us and now to head up this whole outfit. Why, he could have lived the life of Tut, been a prince back there! But no, he chose to give up his high position in the palace and now he’s come with us into this sandy sauna. There isn’t very much left back there, true, but you know what I mean. Me myself — of course I’m happy leaving that black hole and the forced labour and all the cruel treatment, that’s obvious. But I’ll bet that he’s also happy to have come out with us, even though he himself wasn’t included in any of the labour gangs, you know, with his special protection and all that. I know we ate their bread so we shouldn’t bad-mouth them — that’s probably what the Chief would tell us — but they were a cruel, degenerate lot back there, pulling off their barbaric atrocities under the pretence of culture and civilization. Boy, am I glad I got out of there in time!”
“Me, too. Happy to get out of all that mind pollution we left behind. You even breathe freer here, you know? Your eyes and ears are not bombarded with their filth and dark superstition in every public place.”
“You’re right there. It feels great. You can almost taste the freedom. The change in air and diet will perform wonders in no time — that’s what the Chief promised us back there — that he’d make new men out of us. And it’s happening: he delivers. Sure, some grumblers say we’re roughing it but that’s just because they want to look at it that way. I suppose that for them old habits die hard. Maybe they’d rather get their bread like slaves and not to think for themselves than to be free men. But I sez, rough — it might be, but it’s heaven compared to the living hell we left behind us.”
TH EPR O J E C T
“Talk about diet: that sure is funny stuff the Chief is feeding us. I know that he told us way back then that it comes direct from the Boss so I expect it should be unusual. But even the delivery is most impressive, don’t you say? Dead on time every morning, two portions on Erev Shabbos and Erev Yom Tov, and so on and so forth. But what is it? I wonder. The wife says it’s a health food, just like some seed-and-honey mixture. I tell you straight, I dunno what it is, but it’s doing wonders for me. No elimination problem. No acid indigestion like I used to suffer from. The doc says my ulcers have disappeared. You have to get used to the stuff, I know, but it’s got a real delicate flavour. The wife makes it into all kinds of stuff so sometimes it comes out chewy and sometimes soft, or hard, or like cake. I tell you, it’s a marvel! I think that going out to fetch it ourselves every morning is a clever idea, too. That bit of exercise at dawn before breakfast helps keep me fit for the rest of the day. But you wanna hear something funny? Just yesterday I kind of got a hankering for a real roast beef. D’you know what? For a while I could have sworn that the stuff food tasted exactly like roast beef? It was uncanny — the texture, the smell, the taste — with the perfect degree of rareness on the inside, crispy on the outside. D’you think the heat is affecting my senses?”
“Well, I’ve had similar experiences all along. Only I like my steaks well done and that’s what I had. No, I don’t think it’s the heat because in any case it’s quite mild here compared to what things were back there. But who knows? Maybe it’s the change of conditions and different food that’s affecting our minds. One thing I do know: it’s not natural! But I’m getting used to things being “not natural” and I quite like it that way. Looks like most of us do too and perhaps that’s why everyone goes around with that peaceful look on his face. I personally wouldn’t mind if this went on for a good long stretch. Who wants to go back to civilization? Bah! Not I, I can tell you! And now we’re started on this new part of the project — sure is interesting! I hope it works out well. I mean, with all the talent, energy and labour being sunk into it, if it didn’t work out as the Chief planned it all, I’d feel pretty bad for him.”
“Imagine how the Chief would feel if this flopped.”
“I don’t really believe anything’ll go haywire. Not with the blueprint that the Boss drew up. It’s all just so neat. And with everyone doing his own bit, no duplication of jobs, no wasted skills, everyone contributing their penny’s-worth and feeling good for it. With time off for releasing tensions — and, of course, the lessons. We’ve got the ideal happy community here, even though there must be more than a couple of million of us here, including the women and kids. Amazingly little friction, too, for a camp this size. Well, I guess I’d better get back to the grind and do my bit for the cause. ’Bye for now.”
***
“How are things going, O.A.? Everything running smoothly? No snags in the machinery?”
“Purring like a kitten, Chief, Sir, except for some minor problems here and there.”
“Well, I just had a lulu of a problem but I suppose it’s my own fault.”
“You, Sir?”
“Well, yes. I misunderstood the Boss’s directions. The blueprint had everything detailed real neat — all the components, how to make them, and where they belonged in the final shell. So I just went ahead and ordered all the components from each outfit separately. The metallurgists, coppersmiths, carpenters, the various technicians. Then along comes Betz and tells me in the nicest way possible that I’ve got it wrong, that I’ve started from the wrong end, that we’ve got to start from the shell and build inwards. When he explained it to me it seemed so
