After Utopia by Mack Reynolds

Author:Mack Reynolds [Reynolds, Mack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780441009589
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1977-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Seven

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Tracy spent the day on his Interlingua, taking stimmy after stimmy. He had gotten to the point now where all he needed was vocabulary. Even correct accent and pronounciation had been quite easily acquired, since the rules were so few and so obvious. There was no such thing as having three words—lea, lee, and leigh, for example—all meaning something different, and being pronounced exactly the same. There was no such thing as having pliers, trousers, and scissors, all supposedly plural when there is no singular pliar, trouser, or scissor.

No, he was taking to Interlingua like a whirling dervish in a revolving door. He took time out only for lunch and hurried through that. During it, he had just one major argument in the continuing debate with the other three about the workings of this present-day society.

He said to Stein, “At breakfast you mentioned that in my day everyone wanted to accumulate property, privately owned possessions. Okay, and you say these days nobody cares a damn about owning things. But there must be exceptions. That rich man you mentioned, that owned a private airplane and even a yacht. Suppose I wanted a yacht these days? Everything is free, so I’d get it, eh?”

The other was puzzled. “Why not? But what would you do with it?”

“What do you think I’d do with a yacht? Obviously, I’d sail in it.”

Edmonds said, “It would have to be a rather small yacht, if you just wanted it for yourself. Otherwise, who would crew it for you?”

Tracy looked at him in frustration.

Betty said, “A good many people like yachting. They usually join a yachting club and share the work involved. Or several compatible people will team together and operate one. In the old days the men that crewed a big yacht were the servants of the owner. We don’t have servants any more.”

He didn’t give up, quite yet. “Okay. That private airplane deal. Today, I could just order one and keep it as long as I wanted, eh?”

“Certainly,” Stein said.

“All right. Suppose it develops a knock in the engine, or whatever, and I have to take it into an airport to have it worked on. If practically nobody works, who’d repair my engine?”

Edmonds said, “It would probably be pulled, with automated equipment, and a new engine inserted and…”

“I know, I know. And the old one recycled. But suppose it was something besides the engine, something that just couldn’t be replaced automatically?”

The academician said, “If the aircraft was in such bad shape as all that, they would probably recycle the whole thing and give you a new one. You see, Tracy, we very seldom repair things anymore. With the computers, with automation, with unlimited power and with unlimited raw materials, we find it easier to build a new object rather than repair an old one.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tracy said, tossing his napkin to the table and coming to his feet. “I’m going on back to my Interlingua. As soon as I get it

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