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CHAPTER 7.
IN THE EARLY DAYS after his return from Moscow, whenever Levin shuddered and grew red, remembering the disgrace of his rejection, he said to himself: after his return from Moscow, whenever Levin shuddered and grew red, remembering the disgrace of his rejection, he said to himself: This was just how I used to shudder and blush, thinking myself utterly lost, when I was plucked in physics and did not get my remove; and how I thought myself utterly ruined after I built that first surface mine and it collapsed. And yet, now that years have pa.s.sed, I recall it and wonder that it could distress me so much. It will be the same thing too with this trouble. Time will go by and I shall not mind about this either. This was just how I used to shudder and blush, thinking myself utterly lost, when I was plucked in physics and did not get my remove; and how I thought myself utterly ruined after I built that first surface mine and it collapsed. And yet, now that years have pa.s.sed, I recall it and wonder that it could distress me so much. It will be the same thing too with this trouble. Time will go by and I shall not mind about this either.
But three months had pa.s.sed and he had not left off minding about it; and it was as painful for him to think of it as it had been those first days. He could not be at peace because after dreaming so long of family life, and feeling himself so ripe for it, he was still not married, and was further than ever from marriage.
Meanwhile spring came on, beautiful and kindly, without the delays and treacheries of spring-one of those rare springs in which plants, beasts, and man rejoice alike. This lovely spring roused Levin still more, and strengthened him in his resolution of renouncing all his past and building up his lonely life firmly and independently.
One day, as he rode up to the house in this happy frame of mind, Levin heard the bell ring at the side of the princ.i.p.al entrance of the house.
'Yes, that's someone from the station," he said to Socrates. "Just the time to be here from the Moscow Grav. . . . Who could it be? What if it's brother Nikolai? He did say: 'Maybe I'll go to the waters, or maybe I'll come down to you.'"
He felt dismayed and vexed for the first minute, that his brother Nikolai's presence should come to disturb his happy mood of spring. But he felt ashamed of the feeling, and at once he opened, as it were, the arms of his soul, and with a softened feeling of joy and expectation, now he hoped with all his heart that it was his brother. He p.r.i.c.ked up his horse, and riding out from behind the acacias he saw a hired three-horse sledge from the Grav station, and a gentleman in a fur coat.
"Ah," cried Levin joyfully, flinging up both his hands. "Here's a delightful visitor! Ah, how glad I am to see you!" he shouted, recognizing Stepan Arkadyich, with Small Stiva balanced like a fat, happy child between his legs.
"Now you shall find out for certain whether she's married, or when she's going to be married," Socrates muttered to him with a cautious tone, anxious to protect his master's feelings. But on that delicious spring day Levin felt that the thought of Kitty did not hurt him at all. Socrates muttered to him with a cautious tone, anxious to protect his master's feelings. But on that delicious spring day Levin felt that the thought of Kitty did not hurt him at all.
"Well, you didn't expect me, eh?" said Stepan Arkadyich, getting out of the sledge, splashed with mud on the bridge of his nose, on his cheek, and on his eyebrows, but radiant with health and good spirits. "I've come to see you in the first place," he said, embracing and kissing him, while Socrates plucked an air-blasting end-effector to clean the mud from Small Stiva's frontal display. "To partic.i.p.ate in the Hunt-and-be-Hunted second, and to sell that little patch of soil at Ergushovo third."
Stepan Arkadyich told him many interesting pieces of news, but not one word in reference to Kitty and the Shcherbatskys; he merely gave him greetings from his wife. Levin was grateful to him for his delicacy and was very glad of his visitor. As always happened with him during his solitude, a ma.s.s of ideas and feelings had been acc.u.mulating within him, which he could not communicate to those about him. And now he poured out upon Stepan Arkadyich his poetic joy in the spring, and his failures and plans for the seasonal extraction. Stepan Arkadyich, always charming, understanding everything at the slightest reference, was particularly charming on this visit, and Levin noticed in him a special tenderness, as it were, and a new tone of respect that flattered him.
They determined that they would Hunt-and-be-Hunted the very next day, and Levin ordered the Huntbears to be warmed and baited overnight.
CHAPTER 8.
THE PLACE FIXED ON for the Hunt-and-be-Hunted was not far above a stream in a little aspen copse. On reaching the copse, Levin led Oblonsky to a corner of a mossy, swampy glade, already quite free from snow. He went back himself to a double birch tree on the other side, and leaning his gun on the fork of a dead lower branch, he took off his full overcoat, fastened his belt again, and worked his arms to see if they were free. for the Hunt-and-be-Hunted was not far above a stream in a little aspen copse. On reaching the copse, Levin led Oblonsky to a corner of a mossy, swampy glade, already quite free from snow. He went back himself to a double birch tree on the other side, and leaning his gun on the fork of a dead lower branch, he took off his full overcoat, fastened his belt again, and worked his arms to see if they were free.
The sun was setting behind a thick forest, and in the glow of sunset the birch trees, dotted about in the aspen copse, stood out clearly with their hanging twigs, and their buds swollen almost to bursting. Levin sighed with contentment, for the Hunt-and-be-Hunted was to him the ideal way to spend a day: shooting at grackles and geese with one's old-fas.h.i.+oned cartridge rifle, while simultaneously trying to escape the claws of the heat-seeking, man-chasing mechanical monsters called Huntbears.
How, Levin had long wondered, had hunting ever held the slightest enchantment before the introduction of the Huntbears?
From the thickest parts of the copse, where the snow still remained, came the faint sound of narrow, winding threads of water running away. Tiny birds twittered, and now and then fluttered from tree to tree. They heard the rustle of last year's leaves, stirred by the thawing of the earth and the growth of the gra.s.s. Small Stiva optimized his aural and optical sensors, rotating his head unit nervously around and around; he loathed the Hunt-and-be-Hunted, and envied Socrates, who had been left at the estate doing bookkeeping.
"Imagine! One can hear and see the gra.s.s growing!" Levin said, noticing a wet, slate-colored aspen leaf moving beside a blade of young gra.s.s. Oblonsky laughed gaily at this observation, and then Small Stiva beeped shrilly six times, the birds fled in one urgent fluttering cloud, and the Huntbear thundered into the copse. The huge mechanized bear, over eight feet high, crashed toward them with great, lumbering steps, opening its gaping mouth to display two rows of oversize teeth. Levin, even as he leveled his rifle at the thing, admired the simple but effective craftsmans.h.i.+p; the Bear looked not so much like a real bear as like a child's rendering of a bear, with ma.s.sively exaggerated paws and fangs.
Oblonsky, rattled, fired first but wildly, and most of his cartridge rounds ended up in the surrounding trees, or tinged harmlessly off the Huntbear's thick groznium legs. While the Huntbear advanced another cras.h.i.+ng step toward them, Small Stiva skittered off into the cover of the undergrowth.
Levin, calmly taking aim at the thras.h.i.+ng beast, noticed for the first time that the Huntbear was accompanied by a cub-a nice naturalistic touch. He would try to remember to thank his groundskeeper for providing an especially delightful day's Hunt-and-be-Hunted.
Levin shot once and missed. The Huntbear swatted Oblonsky with the back of its paw, hard enough to knock him down but not to kill; Oblonsky cried out in genuine terror-like most first-time Hunt-and-be-Hunters, he forgot in the heat of the action that Huntbears were programmed with the Iron Laws and so could never do real harm to humans.
Levin shot again and scored a clean hit in the belly of the beast-the ursine robot monster reared back in simulated pain. At that moment, a hawk flew high over a forest far away with a slow sweep of its wings, and another flew with exactly the same motion in the same direction and vanished. The Huntbear paused in its rampage, its sensors distracted by the graceful black swoop of the hawk, and Levin took his opportunity: he fired his rifle exactly four times, with deadly precision-bang, bang, bang, bang-alternating, one shot to bring down a hawk, one shot in the right eye of the Bear, one for the other hawk, one for the other eye.
Birds twittered more and more loudly and busily in the neighboring thicket. An owl hooted not far off. The Bear, its brain circuits shattered by Levin's shots, clattered to the ground like a fallen tree. Oblonsky hesitantly rose to his feet, laughing with easy good humor at his momentary panic, just as Small Stiva emerged from the bush clutching both dead hawks with the pincer of a single end-effector.
The Hunt-and-be-Hunted was capital. Stepan Arkadyich shot two more birds and Levin two, of which one was not found. It began to get dark. Venus, bright and silvery, shone with her soft light low in the west behind the birch trees, and Levin gazed happily at the planet with a loving look, wondering why the sight, which he had seen so many times before, should inspire in him such a sense of pleasure and calm.
The snipe had ceased flying; but Levin resolved to stay a little longer, till Venus, which he saw below a branch of birch, should be above it. Then Venus had risen above the branch, yet still he waited.
"Isn't it time to go home?" said Stepan Arkadyich.
It was quite still now in the copse, and not a bird was stirring.
"Let's stay a little while," answered Levin.
"As you like."
They were standing now about fifteen paces from one another.
"Stiva!" said Levin unexpectedly. "How is it you don't tell me whether your sister-in-law's married yet, or when she's going to be?"
Levin felt so resolute and serene that no answer, he fancied, could affect him. But he had never dreamed of what Stepan Arkadyich replied.
"She's never thought of being married, and isn't thinking of it; but she's very ill, and the doctors have sent her into orbit around Venus."
Venus. Levin stared up again at the distant body, and felt its tug upon his heart.
"They're positively afraid she may not live."
"What!" cried Levin. "Very ill? What is wrong with her? How has she . . .?"
Before he could inquire further into her condition, at that very instant both suddenly heard a shrill whistle which, as it were, smote on their ears; it was Small Stiva, bleating out the alarm again. Both suddenly seized their guns and two flashes gleamed as they pumped a combined seventeen rounds into the tiny groznium body of the Huntbear cub.
They stood together over the smoldering heap of the fallen Huntbear, flushed with pleasure at the unexpected victory, each humorously blaming the other for having forgotten about the cub.
"Splendid! Together!" cried Levin. Oh, yes, what was it that was unpleasant? Oh, yes, what was it that was unpleasant? he wondered. he wondered. Yes, Kitty's ill. . . . Well, it can't be helped; I'm very sorry, Yes, Kitty's ill. . . . Well, it can't be helped; I'm very sorry, he thought. he thought.
They tromped back to Levin's estate, and did not see that, as soon as they turned their backs, a head like that of a worm, only closer in size to a dog's head, emerged from the rough forest ground as if from a tunnel; and they did not see this worm head open a grotesque, gaping mouth and suck up the shattered groznium skeleton of the Huntbear cub, before disappearing again beneath the earth's surface.
CHAPTER 9.
ALTHOUGH ALL VRONSKY'S INNER LIFE was absorbed in his pa.s.sion, his external life unalterably and inevitably followed along the old accustomed lines of his social and regimental ties and interests. The interests of his regiment, the Circling Hawks of the Borderland, took an important place in Vronsky's life, both because he was fond of the regiment, and because his regiment was fond of him. They were not only fond of Vronsky in his regiment, they respected him too, and were proud of him; proud that this man, with his immense wealth, his brilliant education and abilities, and the path open before him to every kind of success, distinction, and ambition, had disregarded all that, and of all the interests of life had the interests of his Border regiment and his comrades nearest to his heart. Vronsky was aware of his comrades' view of him, and in addition to his liking for the life, he felt bound to keep up that reputation. was absorbed in his pa.s.sion, his external life unalterably and inevitably followed along the old accustomed lines of his social and regimental ties and interests. The interests of his regiment, the Circling Hawks of the Borderland, took an important place in Vronsky's life, both because he was fond of the regiment, and because his regiment was fond of him. They were not only fond of Vronsky in his regiment, they respected him too, and were proud of him; proud that this man, with his immense wealth, his brilliant education and abilities, and the path open before him to every kind of success, distinction, and ambition, had disregarded all that, and of all the interests of life had the interests of his Border regiment and his comrades nearest to his heart. Vronsky was aware of his comrades' view of him, and in addition to his liking for the life, he felt bound to keep up that reputation.
It need not be said that he did not speak of his love to any of his comrades, nor did he betray his secret even in the wildest drinking bouts (though indeed he was never so drunk as to lose all control of himself) . And he shut up any of his thoughtless comrades who attempted to allude to his connection. But in spite of that, his love was known to all the town; everyone guessed with more or less confidence at his relations with Madame Karenina. The majority of the younger men envied him for just what was the most irksome factor in his love-the exalted position of Karenin, and the consequent publicity of their connection in society. Only a few of the younger members, men who harbored half-secret jealousies of Vronsky's rank and ambition, whispered that such an a.s.signation-to the wife of a man in the secretive world of the Higher Branches-might carry dangers beyond that attending to a commonplace adulterous intrigue.
Besides the service and society, Vronsky had another great interest-the annual gladiatorial contest, known as the Cull, by which advancement in the regiment was determined. He was pa.s.sionately fond of these contests, had done particularly well in the last, and looked forward with savage glee to the next, which was now rapidly approaching.
The contest took place in a great arena, witnessed by vast crowds of spectators. Every member of the regiment donned their own customized, death-dealing, armor-plated suit known as an Exterior, and entered into ma.s.s free-for-all combat, man against man against man, until the weaker ones were destroyed. Those that emerged victorious-as Vronsky, so far, always had-earned not only glory but advancement in rank.
That year's intra-regimental Exterior battle had been arranged for the officers and was rapidly approaching. In spite of his love affair, he was looking forward to the match with intense, though reserved, excitement.
These two pa.s.sions did not interfere with one another. On the contrary, he needed occupation and distraction quite apart from his love, so as to recruit and rest himself from the violent emotions that agitated him.
CHAPTER 10.
AKIND OF METAL SHED known as "the silo" had been put up close to the battle arena, and there Vronsky's Exterior was to have been taken the previous day. He had not yet seen her there. During the last few days he had not ridden her out for practice himself, and so now he positively did not know in what condition his Exterior had arrived yesterday and was in today. known as "the silo" had been put up close to the battle arena, and there Vronsky's Exterior was to have been taken the previous day. He had not yet seen her there. During the last few days he had not ridden her out for practice himself, and so now he positively did not know in what condition his Exterior had arrived yesterday and was in today.
Vronsky was justifiably proud of his Exterior, Frou-Frou, which he had built and modified to his tastes, in consultation with a brilliant English engineer whom he retained as mecanicien mecanicien at great cost. Frou-Frou's every movement was controlled by Vronsky, encased inside her, his body attached to her delicate sensory system by dozens of wires. at great cost. Frou-Frou's every movement was controlled by Vronsky, encased inside her, his body attached to her delicate sensory system by dozens of wires.
"Well, how's Frou-Frou?" Vronsky asked the engineer in English.
"All right, sir," the Englishman's voice responded somewhere in the inside of his throat. "Come along, then," said the Englishman, frowning and speaking with his mouth shut, and with swinging elbows he went on in front with his disjointed gait.
They went into the little yard in front of the shed. A target boy, trembling a bit in the head-to-toe padded suit he wore, followed them. As they walked through the silo Vronsky knew five other Exteriors stood in their separate stalls, and he knew that Matryoshka, the Exterior belonging to his chief rival, Mahutin, had been brought there, and must be standing among them.
Even more than his own Exterior, Vronsky longed to see Matryoshka, whom he had never seen. But he knew that by the etiquette of the Cull it was not merely impossible for him to see another of the exoskeletons, but improper even to ask questions about it. Just as he was pa.s.sing along the pa.s.sage, the boy opened the door into the second stable on the left, and Vronsky caught a glimpse of exactly that fighting machine he was most curious about: Matryoshka was a curiously innocent-looking Exterior, with an immense and rounded bottom, a smaller but equally rounded upper portion, and the crude, clownishly painted face of a bearded old peasant man. He lingered, surprised that Mahutin's Exterior should be so pleasant, even silly looking; then, with the feeling of a man turning away from another man's open letter, he turned round and went into Frou-Frou's stall.
Frou-Frou was an Exterior of medium size, constructed to roughly humanoid shape from a dozen enormous, curved, and overlapping metal plates. He had paid dearly to acquire the ma.s.ses of groznium alloy required to plate her entire body, and such was the cleverness of her jointures that no enemy ordnance Vronsky had yet encountered could pierce her. As to offensive capability, Frou-Frou was equipped with a trio of rotating heavy-fires set in cones at chest level, plus a grill across the "face" of the machine, from which, when Vronsky wished it, could launch cannonball-sized bursts of globular electricity, directed at the opponent of his choosing.
About all Frou-Frou's figure, and especially her head, there was a certain expression of energy, of overwhelming offensive capability, and yet of softness. Some Exteriors seem only like deadly furniture, large weapons with a hole to climb inside; but Frou-Frou was one of those Exteriors-less than a Cla.s.s III but more than a simple Cla.s.s II-which seem not to speak only because they were built without a mouth hole. To Vronsky, at any rate, it seemed that she understood all he felt at that moment as he looked at her.
As soon as Vronsky was attached to the dozen pulse-point electrodes allowing him to communicate with Frou-Frou's control relays, she s.h.i.+fted the ma.s.sive armor plates at the joints, rotated her eyes in their cavernous ocular cavities, and pointed her three heavy-fires in three different directions.
"There, you see how fidgety she is," said the Englishman.
"There, darling! There!" said Vronsky, speaking soothingly to the suit. "Quiet, darling, quiet!" he said, patting her again over her rear section, which glinted in the dim light of the shed. "Let's give her a go."
In another moment the engineer had opened her metal torso, and Vronsky had climbed inside, attaching the dozen wires to the corresponding input points along Frou-Frou's contact board. Vronsky felt that his heart was throbbing, and that he, too, like the suit, longed to move, to open fire; it was a feeling both dreadful and delicious. As the machine warmed up, and Vronsky felt the familiar delectable tingle of his limbs seeming to merge with the synthetic reflexes of the suit, the target boy made a run for it, but was corralled by Lupo, who growled warningly to hold him at bay until Vronsky was ready to test-fire.
"Please, your Excellency," said the target boy. "Perhaps-"
The Englishman rolled his eyes and walloped him on the back of the head. "It's only a half-power round."
Vronsky, as comfortable in Frou-Frou's familiar confines as a child in the womb, directed his Exterior to shoot, and shoot she did, loosing a jolt of pure electric force from behind the face grill directly at the target boy. Though it was indeed only a half-power jolt, when Vronsky climbed out of the suit and he and the Englishmen stepped from the shed into the sunlight, they left the target boy behind them, his body s.h.i.+vering as he slowly recovered on the rock-hard floor of the silo.
"Well, I rely on you, then," Vronsky said to the Englishman. "Half past six on the ground."
"All right," said the Englishman. "Ah, where are you going, my lord?" he asked suddenly, using the t.i.tle which he had scarcely ever used before.
Vronsky in amazement raised his head, and stared, as he knew how to stare, not into the Englishman's eyes, but at his forehead, astounded at the impertinence of his question. But realizing that in asking this the Englishman had been looking at him not as an employer, but as a combatant, he answered: "I've got to pay a visit; I shall be home within an hour." He blushed, a thing which rarely happened to him.
The Englishman looked gravely at him; and, as though he, too, knew where Vronsky was going, he added: "The important thing's to keep quiet before a contest. Don't get out of temper or upset about anything. And watch the roads. The rumor is circulating that UnConSciya has mined the roads around the arena with emotion bombs." Vronsky scowled. Emotion bombs were a nasty business: detonators triggered by mood-based physiological surges in pa.s.sersby, such as their perspiration chemistry.
"All right," answered Vronsky, and departed, still wearing the set of miniaturized sense-plates attached to his body, with which he would later resume his connection with Frou-Frou-and through which, via vibratory telegraphy, the engineer could monitor his physiological condition until then.
Before he had driven many paces away, the dark clouds that had been threatening rain all day broke, and there was a heavy downpour.
CHAPTER 11.
THE RAIN DID NOT last long, and by the time Vronsky arrived at the Karenins' the sun had peeped out again, the roofs of the summer villas and the old lime trees in the gardens on both sides of the princ.i.p.al streets sparkled with wet brilliance, and from the twigs came a pleasant drip and from the roofs rus.h.i.+ng streams of water. He thought no more of the shower spoiling the match ground, but was rejoicing now that-thanks to the rain-he would be sure to find her at home and alone, as he knew that Alexei Alexandrovich had not moved from Petersburg. last long, and by the time Vronsky arrived at the Karenins' the sun had peeped out again, the roofs of the summer villas and the old lime trees in the gardens on both sides of the princ.i.p.al streets sparkled with wet brilliance, and from the twigs came a pleasant drip and from the roofs rus.h.i.+ng streams of water. He thought no more of the shower spoiling the match ground, but was rejoicing now that-thanks to the rain-he would be sure to find her at home and alone, as he knew that Alexei Alexandrovich had not moved from Petersburg.
Hoping to find her alone, Vronsky alighted, as he always did, to avoid attracting attention, before crossing the bridge, and walked to the house. He did not go up the steps to the street door, but went into the court.
"Has your master come?" he asked a mecanicien, mecanicien, who was irritatedly tinkering with a maltuned II/Topiary/42-9. who was irritatedly tinkering with a maltuned II/Topiary/42-9.
"No, sir. The mistress is at home. But will you please go to the front door; there are II/Footmen/74s there," the mecanicien mecanicien answered. "They'll open the door." answered. "They'll open the door."
"No, I'll go in from the garden."
And feeling satisfied that she was alone, and wanting to take her by surprise, since he had not promised to be there today, and she would certainly not expect him to come before the match, he walked, with one hand on the handle of his hot-whip, and stepping cautiously over the sandy path bordered with flowers to the terrace that looked out upon the garden. Vronsky forgot now all that he had thought on the way of the hards.h.i.+ps and difficulties of their position. He thought of nothing but that he would see her directly, not in imagination, but living, all of her, as she was in reality.
Anna Karenina was sitting on the terrace waiting for the return of her son, who had gone out for his walk and been caught in the rain. She had sent a II/Porter/7e62 and a II/Maid/467 out to scan for him. Dressed in a white gown, deeply embroidered, she was sitting in a corner of the terrace watering some flowers with a Cla.s.s I water-spritzer, which sensed the precise amount of mist to properly water each individual leaf and stem, and therefore did not hear him. In his Cull undersuit, with the dozen electrodes still attached to various vital points along his body, Vronsky was aware that he must look strange and vulnerable. Bowing her curly black head, she pressed her forehead against a cool watering pot that stood on the parapet, and both her lovely hands, with the rings he knew so well, clasped the pot. The beauty of her whole figure, her head, her neck, her hands, struck Vronsky every time as something new and unexpected. He stood still, gazing at her in ecstasy. His heart palpitated rapidly; at the same moment, away in the battleground silo, the English engineer, monitoring Vronsky's telemetry readings on a Cla.s.s I physiolographer, grimaced at the way his pulse was escalating.
But, just as he was about to make a step to come nearer to her, Anna was aware of his presence, pushed away the watering pot, and turned her flushed face toward him.
"What's the matter? You are ill?" he said to her in French, going up to her. He would have run to her, but remembering that there might be spectators, he looked round toward the balcony door, and reddened a little, as he always reddened, feeling that he had to be afraid and be on his guard.
"No, I'm quite well," she said, getting up and pressing his outstretched hand tightly. "I did not expect . . . thee. What in G.o.d's name are you wearing?"
"Mercy! What cold hands!" he said, and quickly he explained the undersuit and the need for his vital signs to be monitored in the hours preceding the Cull.
"You startled me," she said. "I'm alone, and expecting Seryozha. He's out for a walk; they'll come in from this side."
But, in spite of her efforts to be calm, her lips were quivering.
"Forgive me for coming, but I couldn't pa.s.s the day without seeing you," he went on, speaking in French, as he always did to avoid using the stiff Russian plural form, so impossibly frigid between them, and the dangerously intimate singular.
"Forgive you? I'm so glad!"