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167
The Status Civilization
·
Robert Sheckley
9
The
speaker's
slow,
measured
words
had
a
certain
hypnotic
quality.
402
listened,
his
eyes
slightly
unfocused
and
fixed
upon
the
speaker's
pale
forehead.
"A
new
world,"
the
speaker
was
saying.
"You
are
reborn--but
with
the
necessary
consciousness
of
sin.
Without
it,
you
would
be
unable
to
combat
the
evil
inherent
in
your
personalities.
Remember
that.
Remember
that
there
is
no
escape
and
no
return.
Guardships
armed
with
the
latest
beam
weapons
patrol
the
skies
of
Omega
day
and
night.
These
ships
are
designed
to
obliterate
anything
that
rises
more
than
five
hundred
feet
above
the
surface
of
the
planet--an
invincible
barrier
through
which
no
prisoner
can
ever
pass.
Accommodate
yourselves
to
these
facts.
They
constitute
the
rules
which
must
govern
your
lives.
Think
about
what
I've
said.
And
now
stand
by
for
landing."
The
speaker
left
the
balcony.
For
a
while,
the
prisoners
simply
stared
at
the
spot
where
he
had
been.
Then,
tentatively,
a
murmur
of
conversation
began.
After
a
while
it
died
away.
There
was
nothing
to
talk
about.
The
prisoners,
without
memory
of
the
past,
had
nothing
upon
which
to
base
a
speculation
of
the
future.
Personalities
could
not
be
exchanged,
for
those
personalities
were
newly
emerged
and
still
undefined.
They
sat
in
silence,
uncommunicative
men
who
had
been
too
long
in
solitary
confinement.
The
guards
on
the
balcony
stood
like
statues,
remote
and
impersonal.
And
then
the
faintest
tremor
ran
through
the
floor
of
the
auditorium.
The
tremor
came
again;
then
it
changed
into
a
definite
vibration.
402
felt
heavier,
as
though
an
invisible
weight
were
pressing
against
his
head
and
shoulders.
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