The Human Element — Edition Insights

Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

_It was absolutely amazing what science could do. The last century of progress had been wonderful! Why even the circus was far better--or was it?_

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

"Going to the circus?" the man with the sallow complexion asked.

Kevin nodded but didn't look at his questioner. He nervously brushed back the lock of gray hair from his lined forehead and pushed his rimless glasses into a more secure position on his nose. His worried expression made him look older than his forty-eight years.

"Hear it's better than ever," the man continued in a flat toneless voice. "_The Great Golden Ball_ is supposed to be really something. Or so they say. I go every year. It's really amazing what they can do nowadays--science, I mean. Even the circus is better for it."

Is it? thought Kevin as the speeding, robot driven monorail transport rocketed past the brilliant pastel buildings shining slimly in the sunlight filtering through the plastic dome covering New New York. Oh, is it?

The man next to Kevin, discouraged by the lack of response to his attempts at conversation, quieted and both men relaxed in the privacy of their own thoughts.

At any rate, the other man did. Kevin couldn't relax. His son and daughter-in-law with whom he lived could not be aware of his absence yet, Kevin reassured himself. No one knew he was here. And when the men came for him, and Sally, perhaps with tears in her eyes, went to fetch him and his small suitcase it would be too late.

And that would be that.

The transport slowed noiselessly to a stop and most of the passengers rose to leave. The robot driver sat motionless until the last of the people, Kevin among them, stepped from the loading platform to the ground. The electronic currents whirred, the doors closed and, the circuit complete, the transport moved off into the shining caverns of the city.

The people hurried forward and passed quickly through the entrance to the amphitheater over which hung a sign:

MAIN ENTRANCE TO 2088 VERSION OF CALDWELL'S GIANT CIRCUS

Kevin watched the people file through the entrance and slowly, almost reluctantly, followed them. He presented the red plastic coin to the robot at the entrance, but hardly heard as its electrical voice crackled, "Thank you, sir. Enjoy the show."

Kevin walked with the crowd along the spotless corridor and stepped aboard the automatic lift, getting out at the floor above. He seated himself in one of the comfortable lounging chairs and shuddered slightly as it fitted itself to the contours of his body. His fingers clutched tightly the undistinguished box he carried and something within him resisted the comfort offered by the large chair in which he sat.

People continued to file in and take places and the amphitheater was quickly filled. Soundlessly. The walls absorbed the sound and invisible filters removed the dust from the air. Occasionally people took small pills from the containers built into the sides of their chairs and popped them into their mouths. Kevin knew the pills tasted like popcorn, candy floss, and some even like hot dogs. But they were, of course, not the same as the real thing. Neither was the amphitheater.

Once there had been great canvas tents put up in the open air, and wood shavings covering the ground within, and hard benches for seats. The area around the tents had been sprinkled with small stands that sold soda in bottles and candy floss colored pink that melted into sweet nothingness in one's mouth. And everywhere there was an exciting smell made up of many separate things. Animals, the food-stuffs on sale, sawdust, and the sweat of many human beings pressed tightly together on the bleachers. There were the shouts of barkers, colored lights, and men who sold little lizards that changed color as you watched them. Kevin knew all this for he had read it in the book which he had bought from the ancient shopkeeper in the run-down section of New New York, how many years ago? Kevin smiled slightly to himself as he recalled the puzzled expression on the shop-keeper's face when he purchased the book.

The circus was beginning and Kevin interrupted his reverie to watch.