World Without War

eating pomegranates, biting briefly into them and sucking onthe sour juices. The moon had risen higher during the past hour,becoming a little smaller in appearance. It was a peaceful,contemplative scene. Jennette snuggled up against Mark, thoughtfullytracing a design with fruit juice on his arm.

  "This is fun," she said softly. "So much more fun than the usualthings a person has to do."

  "Mmmm?"

  "Oh, you know. Checking reports from the factory, making sure there isplenty of ammunition all the time, pestering the body manufacturers soyou'll always have something decent to wear. Always watching orsomebody will sneak in and blow up part of your shelter."

  "Yeah. Well, guess that's life."

  Jennette sighed and picked up another fruit. "It gets so tiresome,always having to keep on the look-out and fighting people. Don't youget bored by it."

  "Sure, sometimes. It's gotta be done though. Otherwise you couldn'ttell what might happen."

  "Mark--" Jennette said hesitantly.

  "Yes?"

  "Mark, would you shoot me if you found me outside your shelter?" Shelooked coyly up at him.

  "Well, sure, unless you had a proper, government-authorized permit tobe there." Mark turned astonished eyes on her. "What else could I do?"

  "Oh, but you _know_ I wouldn't do anything to harm your place."

  "Aw, Jennette," Mark said uncomfortably, "of course you would. Anybodywould. If people started acting like that, the whole balance would beupset."

  She gently stroked his arm where the fruit juice had dried. Her facecrinkled up and she giggled. "Maybe you just don't know me."

  "Let's talk about something else," Mark suggested.

  "What's the matter? Do I shock you?"

  Mark laughed and brushed his lips against her shoulder. "I'm prettyhard to shock. Especially by you."

  "See?" she replied archly. "You're just as anti-social as I am."

  Mark's face clouded. "It's nothing to brag about, though."

  "I'm not bragging." She sighed again, and resumed her fruit. Eying itspeculatively, she said, "I guess I'm just bored with life, that'sall. Sometimes things seem so silly. Like all the times you have toget a new body. You'd think the manufacturers were giving them awayfree."

  "Yeah. Not like it used to be. Guess business is pretty good."

  "Something ought to be done about it."

  Mark grinned mischievously. "What do you suggest? Build anotherfactory?"

  "Oh, you know you can't do that. Somebody is always blowing it up."

  "Well, don't worry. In another hundred years or so, people will startdying off again. These protobodies aren't as serviceable as themanufactured kind."

  "Yes, but if they keep producing new people in the Decanting Centers,what good is that going to do?"

  "I dunno. Blow up the Decanting Centers, maybe."

  "Maybe," Jennette said, glancing impishly at the man beside her, "weought to just stop wearing these silly old manufactured bodiesentirely."

  "Yes?" Mark tasted a pomegranate, made a face, and tried another."Just what do you suggest people wear?"

  "They could go around in their protobodies."

  "What?" Mark looked swiftly and searchingly at her, alarm on his face.

  "Why Mark," she laughed disarmingly. "You're such a righteous beast,aren't you?"

  "Great Atoms, Jennette," he said, gazing intently at hergolden-flecked eyes, wondering what strange things went on inside thatlovely head. "You mean go around all the time as if we were savages?Why that's illegal, immoral, and besides--besides, it's dangerous.Suppose somebody took a shot at you? You've only got one protobody,you know."

  "A clever fighter like you shouldn't have too much trouble with that,if you're careful," she said gaily. "And I'm pretty good at thatmyself."

  Mark took a slow deep breath as he decided that she was just teasinghim. "I'm surprised at you, Jennette."

  She shrugged. "I'm bored, I guess. I'd like to try something new, justfor excitement. Personally, sometimes I think the whole social systemwe have is pretty silly, anyway."

  "Atoms," Mark mumbled.

  "No need to swear about it," she chided him. "Come on, Mark. Justthink about it for a minute. And be consistent."

  "Consistency is all right for a free psi," he said. "It sure doesn'tdo a protobody any good."

  Jennette laughed scornfully. "I'll bet you believe all that stuff theyfeed you in the Decanting Center about ancient history."

  "'Course not," Mark said defensively.

  "All right then. Why follow all these rules of social conduct ifthere's no good basis for them?"

  "Aw, but there is," he replied seriously. "There was a big war--wayback centuries before we were decanted out at Center."

  "Hah," said Jennette.

  "Sure. And it was a whole lot of people who cooperated with each otherin it. There must have been hundreds of them--it was an awfully bigwar. Hundreds of people, all on one side, all fighting togetheragainst the other side."

  "I don't believe it."

  "It's true, I tell you," Mark insisted religiously. "Hundreds andhundreds of people. Maybe even as many as a thousand, all dressedalike--with clothes, I mean. And they didn't shoot each other--theyjust killed the people they were fighting--the hundreds of people onthe other side."

  "Other side of what?"

  Mark frowned. "Oh, I guess that is just an expression. But that's whathappened, anyway. Before civilization got started, people cooperatedlike that."

  "That's just a whole lot of theory," Jennette insisted. "Nobody'sgoing to make me ever believe people used to act like that. Besides,there just aren't enough people around to have all those mythicalwars."

  Patiently, Mark continued. "I'm telling you, Jennette, this is morethan theory. There are still some records left from those days."

  "Prove it."

  "All right. That's not hard. Somebody had to build the factories,didn't they? And the Decanting Centers?"

  "Robots."

  "Who built the first robot factory?"

  Jennette considered. Then she shrugged petulantly. "Oh all right.Maybe a few people did cooperate. But not hundreds of them. Peoplejust don't act like that."

  "Well, they did. And, of course, the obvious thing happened. Sincethey cooperated in some things, they cooperated in a lot of things,even fighting. That's how they could make war, you know--not the nice,social sort of fighting we do now. And you can imagine what happened.You can kill an awful lot of people awful fast, if a gang getstogether on it like that. If they didn't have the artificial bodiesand the psi transfer transmitters to make them come alive, therewouldn't have been anybody left after a while. That cooperation isrough stuff."

  "Obviously," she commented dryly.

  "Well, that's the reason for everything, then. Pretty soon thefactories couldn't turn out hypnobodies fast enough and people had tofight in their protobodies sometimes. But after a few centuries, theleaders began to get civilized, and decided to put an end to all thiscooperative killing. I guess they all got together and agreed not tocooperate with each other in anything in the future."

  "It stands to reason," Mark concluded, "people had to learn to becivilized. They weren't just born that way. It's--it's culture."

  "Pouf," said Jennette critically.

  "All right," he growled, biting viciously into a pomegranate. "Let'shear your big story if it's so good."

  * * * * *

  Jennette stretched out her legs and contemplated her wiggling toes."Oh, I don't know. I don't have any real ideas. But I know better thanto believe that sort of nonsense. People just aren't like that, andyou know it." She hesitated thoughtfully, then continued. "Maybe a fewof them got together now and then for a party or something like this.But not hundreds of them."

  When Mark did not reply, she laughed and said, "I guess I'm justfeeling risque tonight."

  "You sure are," he mumbled.

  "Of course there are parts of the old mythology that seem ratherinteresting--beautiful, even--
"

  "It's not mythology."

  "Like the part that deals with marriage."

  She waited. Mark dutifully echoed, "Deals with what?"

  "Marriage."

  Mark considered it. Then