All language subtitles for Brave New World [1980]_EN

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Bottom level. Orange beam.
Enjoy yourself.

What's happening here?

This is a group of semi-moron Epsilons

that's going on Nature-Nausea
reinforcement field trip-

I can see that.

I meant, what's taking you so long?

Right away, sir.

Now, sir?

Central Hatcheries plant. Priority.

I'm sorry sir, there's a circuit delay.

Next.

The cathedral of our Ford, please.

Just a moment.

If you don't mind.

I don't think you understood.

I said priority.

I happen to be the assistant director
of the Central Hatcheries Plant.

Yes sir, I'll circuit check.

Really, these Gammas.
They're hardly brighter than a Delta.

Or even Epsilons.

Oh no, I'm sure any Delta is much
brighter than Epsilons. like those

That's one of the wonderful
things of being a Gamma.

We're not too stupid and
we're not too bright.

To be a Gamma, is to be just right.

Alright sir.

Central Hatcheries.
Red beam. First level.

The cathedral of our Ford, please.

The cathedral of our Ford.

First level. Blue beam.

Oh, the cathedral of our Ford?

Then I suppose you're part of the
Archford Syntho-Religion staff?

No, I'm trying to get
hold of someone there.

Actually,
I'm with the Sens-u-Feelie Corp.

Oh, a Tele-Feelie writer?

Not yet, I'm still working on
my first Docu-Jingle short.

It's on the perfection of conditioning-
-Oh yes, very interesting.

Well, I go this way.

Miss Lysenko?

May I see you for a moment, please?

Hello Tomakin.

I have a little surprise for you.

Oh, What?

Tell me!

It has something to do with taking you
on very special Computo-holiday trip.

I don't know.

Ringo Rohrbough wants to take
me to the Sex-o-rama festival.

And Anmar Bowie for a week
to a Sens-u-world park.

And Ronald Jaggard-

It's very special.

It's to the Savage Reservation.

Oh, that's different.

Everyone will be so envious!

Are you sure about it?

It's just a formality.

Just a question of
my application being-

Miss Lysenko,
why is this section closed down?

Something that was supposed to
go click-click went clack-clack.

Naturally, I wouldn't know what.
I'm just a Beta.

Of course.

I have to go now Tomakin.

Of course.

Artificial sunset has been reset
for 6:04, due to technical delays.

Sir, your assistant Fordship?

Yes? Oh, Helmholtz Watson.
About Tele-testing your Docu-short.

I know you're very busy.
But I do need approval from your office.

I have to address some Alpha
graduates in Syntho-Culture.

And then a meeting on
consumption norms and standards.

Right after that, I think.

All for more means more for all.

If it can be made, it can be used.

And if it can be used, it can be made.

History is bunk.

Half the time equals double the yield.

War is bad for business.

As select Alphas,
conditioned to believe without knowing

And to know without believing

You have been chosen to view
the surrogate revelations

and synthetic mysteries upon which all
perfect 'assemblific' believe is founded.

Here before you are sacred Teletime-plex
relics of the sanctified life,

thought and Holy Works of our Ford.

From whose divine inspiration

came the ultimate perfection
of the endless assembly line.

Which has given us the ultimate, endless,
perfect happiness of more things.

For more wants in perfect balance,
with more wants for more things.

And it's from our inspired
creator of the model T,

that we derive our
blessed sign of the T.

Ford be praised.

Let us now repeat the catechism.

Community.

Identity.

Stability.

Ford bless you.

I am Mustapha Mond,
Assistant Controller to her Fordship

Nixona Big, Western World Controller.

I have been assigned
to show you certain

selected Histo-Bunk
highlights from the past.

But everything is perfect now.
And everything will always be perfect.

What does it matter what things
were like when it wasn't perfect?

Excellent point.

But quite misguided. Exposing future
Stability Monitors such as yourself

to the imperfection of the past is
part of the perfection of the present.

Centuries ago in primitive times.
Before the dawn of civilization.

There were things that would
be inconceivable to us today.

Such things as poverty.

Although there was land and
food in abundance, some starved.

Because unlike our perfect society.

They were unable or unwilling to
balance population to consumption.

Sometimes too much of one or too
little of the other, the result?

Disease.

And rather than eradicate the
source of disease, as we have done.

The superstitious primitives continued to
rely upon an useless class of technicians

called doctors.

Violence.

Which the ancients actually appeared
to have enjoyed and reveled in.

While we have been conditioned
to want only what we have

and to have only what we want

And are, therefore, always happy.

The uncivilized ancients were
prey to destructive emotions.

Such as ambition.

Hate.

And love.

Which, of course,
always led to violence.

Which in turn led to more violence.

And senility.

While we remain at the prime age of 35 to
maximize our level of useful consumption

until painless death from chemo-stimulation
between the ages of 80 and 90.

The people of the past lacked the
knowledge of how to stay young.

Even though they apparently
valued youth so highly

that they indulged in
superstitious self-mutilation.

As Seminariums, who will one day take your
places in Syntho-Culture Stability Centers.

You must face these Histo-bunk facts.

Unpleasant and even revolting,
as they sometimes are.

Eating the actual flesh of animals.

And even filthy things from the ground.

And sometimes, refusing to engage with more
than one individual of the opposite sex.

And even collecting into
groups called families.

A pervasively,
immoral concept of pre-civilized times.

Thoroughly disgusting examples of complete
sexual perversion, as you can see.

Did the primitive females actually..?

Yes. Primitive females gave
viviparous birth to young.

Like animals?

Yes,
physiologically exactly like animals.

I understand your reactions.

Perhaps we should take
a brief Soma-break.

Naturally, none of that you've seen
will be shown to Betas or Gammas.

Much less to Deltas like these.

But each of you is an Alpha.

You weren't mass-produced in
Computo-Clone Bokanovski-batches.

And you are all supremely happy,
supremely content.

But then, that is truly the
perfection of our civilization.

Everyone is adjusted.

Everyone has been conditioned to
want to do the work he has to do.

And thus, everyone is perfectly happy,
perfectly content.

Alphas like you, Betas,
Gammas, Deltas like these

or even Epsilons.

Are you happy?

Happiness for all is
happiness for each.

Are you glad to be Deltas?

Deltas all have lots of fun,
Deltas get to play and run.

Very good.
Do wish you'd been incubated as Alphas?

No, no!

Excellent, that's all.

Would you flash-in Denise's
assistant director, please?

I think she's occupied, sir.

Never mind, I'll do it.

Miss. Trotsky?
There seems to be a production slowdown,

there will have to be a
Time and Motion inspection.

Miss. Trotsky?

There you are. I couldn't find you!

That's right, I forgot! I was going
to engage you in Leisure-Hour today.

Well, that's alright. I made do.

Anyway, it was about something else.

There was a Data-transmission for
you from the controllers' office.

About my trip, no doubt.

To the Savage Reservation, you know.

Yes, I think they're canceling it.

Canceled!?

They couldn't! They wouldn't!
Not when I've made plans to-

Where is it?

In the file.

There must be some mistake!

I had everything planned.

How would something like
that look on my Computo-file?

You'd better take a Soma!

Yes, that's just the thing.

Here you are, sir.

I guess you won't be going
on your vacation now.

We'll see about that.

It so happens, I know someone quite
important in the Controller's Office.

Quite important in fact.

Mustapha Mond, First assistant
to her Fordship Nixona Big.

We'll just see about that.

You are viewing Helmholtz Watson's film:
Planned Perfection.

Each newly produced infant is given 6 full
years of nightly Hypnopedic Sleep-lectures

to reinforce class-acceptance
conditioning.

Later, in Central Conditioning
Centers like this,

each child receives daily
Happiness Reinforcement drills.

As well as prescribed courses in

Erotic Play, Death Acceptance Training,

Full Consumption Practice
and Nature-Nausea games.

Then, upon reaching Computo-lescence after
6 more years in a Final Conditioning School,

each happy, healthy individual will go forth
to take up his or her predestined place

in the Greater Society.

Dedicated to ensuring the continuing
perfection of Community, Identity, Stability.

Excellent! And very nicely packaged.

You liked it? The whole film I mean?

Oh, immensely!

You caught the whole spirit of unchanging
perfection and with admirable simplicity.

I'm glad I had a chance to see it before
it's Computo-erased and Electro-shredded.

Computo-erased? Electro-shredded?

Unfortunately, it does contain
some dangerously heretical ideas.

I made every effort to
keep ideas out of it.

Take the scene on
Anti-Nature Conditioning.

Charming scene of little children
revolted by fresh flowers.

The implication is that Nature-Nausea
Conditioning is necessary

to keep people from enjoying
the countryside and thus,

under-consuming.

But that's true!

Quite beside the point.

I just wanted to show why Nature-Nausea
training is one of our most recent improvements-

You see?

Recent implies past.

Improvement implies progress.

And if the present is perfect,
then there can't be any progress.

And even the word 'why'.

Why.

That's the most dangerous of all.

It raises the whole
question of purpose.

No, I'm afraid it'll never do to let an ordinary
audience watch anything quite as dangerous

as your Docu-short.

But the test-audience watched it,
they all liked it.

Quite meaningless. Since they've been
conditioned to like anything that's shown them.

But,

all my work.

Exactly the point!
The thousands of feet of film consumed.

Hours of work expended by technicians.

And once it has been erased and
shredded, it can be done all over again!

Remember your Sleep-Talk.

Don't delay, consume today,
use it up and throw it away.

I'll make a special effort to
keep ideas out the next time.

Commendable!

You know, I'm reaching the age of 50.
But I still remember my own youth.

And I'm sure I had just as
many deviant ideas as you do.

I even composed a scandalous
read-out myself once.

I think it was about
the possible benefits

of allowing mutational differentiations
in randomly selected embryos.

Interesting idea,
but dangerous in the wrong hands.

How old are you exactly Helmholtz?

25.

25, just think.

By the time you reach my age

you've been able to have
accomplished this dozens of times!

Good work. Just keep it up.

Are you sure assistant
Mond knows I'm waiting?

Sir, your case is being
circuit-checked through Computo-files.

Why?

I suppose to get all
the reports on you.

Reports? Oh, from my superior.

Who?

Alice B. Stein.
Director of the Central Hatcheries.

I wouldn't know.
You can go in now, sir.

Yes, there it is. Controller confirmation
of restriction for Thomas Grahmbell.

Subject: Overview discretion by
the director of Stability Norms.

But there must be a mistake!

Is that all it says?

Well look for yourself.

But I'm sure there's a mistake.
You can check my Computo-record.

I have exceeded consumption- and
pleasure-norms on each of my Free Vacations.

And so I'm eligible now
for a free Free Vacation.

This director of Stability Norms,
who's that?

I am.

Oh! Well I'm sure you know about this-

Mistake?
But I'm afraid it isn't, Thomas.

You see, I'm the one who
requested the official overview.

But why?
I went through all the proper channels.

The Savage Reservation
can be dangerous.

Not in the physical sense,
but in other ways.

You see these primitives are not like the
Quakerites who were driven into the Yukon.

These primitives are quite different,

they have actually regressed into
an ancient form of tribal society.

Their ways are so directly opposite to ours
that it can cause a very disturbing effect.

As a matter of fact,

several previous visitors had to be sent
to an Emotional Re-engineering Institutes.

Naturally, we couldn't chance that
happening to someone in your position.

Naturally! But you visited the Savage
Reservation, everyone knows that.

It certainly hasn't
affected you in any way.

Perhaps not.

But then my Predestination Conditioning
is to accept the unacceptable.

While yours it to attain the attainable.
Quite different.

But how can I attain the attainable without
something unique like this on my Computo-file?

Yes! A valid point.
I'll take it into consideration.

When? I'm planning on leaving tomorrow morning.
So if I can get any immediate clearance-

Of course, you could go over my
head to the Controllers' office.

But I wouldn't do that.

You wouldn't.

Well I wouldn't want to.

I see. But if you had to, you would.

Maoina, put that
permission-order through for him.

Thank you!

One thing, you shouldn't go to
the Savage Reservation alone.

Take a female along, preferably one with
definite Anti-Deviant Morality Training.

I've already taken care of that. I've engaged
several extra females over past few weeks,

precisely to pick out the proper one.

Linda Lysenko. One of the fertilization technicians
at the plant. A well conditioned Beta minus and

very pneumatic.

Did you pick at all up Maoina?

Yes, everything is programmed
into his Computo-file.

What's his read-out?

Plus 5 assertiveness quotient.

That's quite acceptable
with his conditioning-level.

I think he can continue to be considered
for a upper-management post. Don't you?

Yes.

But I can't help finding
him just a little-

Pompous.

Yes.

Self-serving?

Yes.

You see? Solid managerial potential.

But he is so dull!

With Alphas conditioned for upper-level
executive duties like Thomas,

being dull is an absolute necessity.

It vastly increases their ability
to think rigidly and inflexibly.

Here I am Assistant-Director.

What?

About the production-quota
inspection-request from your office.

Oh, yes of course.

Here we've been able to speed up the
stunning of Epsilons semi-morons.

An extra half-batch a week!
-Ah, well I hope they still be able to perform the necessary work.

Of course, speeding up the production of Gammas and
Deltas without performance-loss is more difficult.

But even sub-Deltas can still perform routine
jobs. Sorting, filing, collecting results.

Of course there's nothing to be done
about Alpha and Beta-production.

One egg, one bag. Unfortunately
it still takes nine months.

Even-

Even Increase Surrogate Intricate
Transfusion- - Yes, yes, yes.

Pardon me,
I really have to take care of something.

An administrative detail.

Oh, Tomakin it's you!

Look what you made me do.

Everything's set for the trip
to the Savage Reservation.

Unless you're not interested now?

Oh, I am Tomakin! When?

We're catching the early
rocket tomorrow morning.

Oh, the early rocket?

What's wrong?

Well, it's just that I'm engaging one
of the Beta-plus from Decanting tonight.

Adolf Rockefeller.

You know,
the cute one with the curly eyebrows.

And we were gonna spend
the night at his apartment.

But we can spend the night at my place.
It's much closer to the rocket-port.

Unless you rather engage me tonight?

I'm sure I could rearrange my plans.

Oh no, no I've already engaged you twice
last week. And you know how people gossip.

Suppose they start whispering that I've immorally
limited my engagements to just one female.

I've got my reputation to think of.

I've never engaged him before.

But all the girls in
Decanting say he's very good

and he's so cute with
his curly eyebrows.

Have you seen the new Feelie?

Where this Alpha Erotic-Counselor becomes
a Delta Pleasure-Technician by mistake-

I'm not exactly sure what happens,
but everyone says

the Applied-Religious
orgy-scene is wonderful.

That's where Adolf's taking me.

Who are you engaging tonight?

I'm not sure.

Actually I'm not engaging anyone.

It's just like Thomas says,
people gossip.

They say you have only engaged
one man in the last three weeks.

It's true.
I don't know what's wrong with me.

Well you have to do something about it.

I have, really. I went to a Dispenser.

But you know what they're like,

take two Soma and go to bed.

Synthetic Therapy sessions,
VPS-treatments,

even a pregnancy-substitute.

But nothing seems to help.
I just don't know what's wrong with me.

Un-Computocepted female!

You forgot to set your Computoception-dial
on your Malthusian-belt.

I'm always doing that!

Sometimes I wished I'd been
incubated as a neutered free-martin.

Just think, they can engage all their lives
without having to fuss about Computoception.

Here, let me help.
You don't want to get-

pregnant.

Did you do the drill yesterday?

I think so.

I must have, I engaged one of
Assistant Fertilization engineers

on the Compulsive Leisure-Hour.
You know, the tall one.

Then just set the dial to the next one.

Remember, day + 1 = none.

Day + 1 = none.

I'm Stalina Shell.
Chief Warden for the reservation.

I understand you arrived
yesterday and rested over.

Proper climatization, that's the thing.

I suppose you stayed at the
Luxo-tel at the Rocket-port?

Yes, it was just as nice it could be!

We're quite proud of it. Liquid air,
Vibro-Vacuum massage, Sens-u-Feelie Vision.

But, of course, you won't find
any of that on the Reservation.

Oh, you mean this isn't
part of the Reservation?

Oh no, this is the official
Anthro-Study Station.

The Reservation is some distance,

it's quite remote and completely
sealed off by an electronic barrier.

But you'll be taken directly to
our Sub-Station by Escaporter.

From there you'll have to go on foot.

You'll have a guide.

They're Delta-minuses, all specially
incubated for high eye-ear-nose acuity.

Unfortunately, at the expense
of some other faculties...

Well, first let's see if
you're properly out-fitted.

Ion-Heater.

Sens-u-Therma bag.

Extra Soma and Ampheta-Pep rations.

Condensed Syntho-food.

Ultra-Sonic Micro-Bomb Pop-Popper.

You know how to fire this, of course.

Safety off.

Aim.

Press firmly on the clip.

Entirely non-lethal.
It nearly causes temporarily paralysis.

The savages, if they are dangerous

I certainly don't want
to expose Miss Lysenko.

It's simply a precaution.
Actually the savages are quite tame.

If you're ready,
I'll show you to the Escaporter.

This way.

It's so seldom anyone visits
the Savage Reservation.

I rarely have the opportunity
to show off our treasures.

What is that?

Just some examples of our fauna.

They have all been conditioned to remain
in the Hunting Reserve beside the savages.

No, I meant this.

One of their cult superstitions,
meant to frighten off demons.

Their religion seems
partly based on demonology.

What sort of demons?

Almost anything at all.
Rocks, trees, animals.

Sometimes strangers, like you.

We must've come almost a mile by now.

Yes, um.

One moment!

How far is the Savage Reservation?

No no, not where. How far?

There!

Look!

Those things that they're putting in their
mouths. What are they doing that for?

Stop it!

They're eating them.

How can they? They're just
dirty things from the ground.

They're not even wrapped in plastic!
Don't they know any better?

Of course they don't.
They're not civilized.

Mamma!

Stop it, that's enough!

Why are they acting like that?

Hitting, laughing, crying. It's weird.

It must be some aberrational pattern.

I hear there once was a thing called
'madness' in primitive times.

That must be what it is.

Maybe we better get away from them.
It might be catching.

Fascinating.

I really should do a
Psycho-Graph read-out.

Perhaps on the degenerative
effects of a un-Decantation.

Yes, this is just the thing that'll
look really good on my Computo-file.

Well, move aside. I wanna go through.

No. It is forbidden to approach
the crucified God, Nakatun.

I just want to snap some Computo-pics.

No.

Where's the Director?
Who's in charge around here?

I am.

He's so old!

Linda!

A Ford, a Ford!

Tomakin!

Here I am!

It was so disgusting, so horrible.

There was this female,
she was actually-

Listen to me.
This could be a real coup for me.

Sacred artifacts, and I'm told there
is place not far from the village

where there's possibly, just possibly

there's a whole model T.

Where?

They call it the Demon's place.

Of course if you rather
stay behind I'll-

No! Any place is better than here.

I don't care what he says.
I can't go any further.

Better take an Ampheta-Pep.

What is it?

Mescal. A little is good.

Much is not good.

How awful.

Well? What are you waiting for?

Come on, move along!

Time for Soma-byes.

Yes, Tomakin.

Ready?

Just a second.

Day + 1 = none.

No, been two.

No?

One!

Coming Tomakin.

Oh, is that all you want?

Just try to be a little quieter.

No. The evil one that becomes
the spirit of wild animals.

Satan.

Nonsense, just leave us alone.

Get away!

No, the evil one. Satan!

Well, we'll just see about that!

Pop-pop them, Tomakin!

Oh, no.

Linda!

Linda?

After that, he seems to have
wandered for several days

before being found by
a Search-Helirocket

sent out by the Chief Warden,
Stalina Shell.

Apparently he suffered from deconditional
hallucinations, something about

demons and sacred relics
according to the Chief Warden.

Yes, Spiritual Psychosis.

Always a danger upon contact
with viviparous primitives.

I presume he was given a
Soma-Decompression therapy?

Yes, he was completely cured.

Subsequent tests showed he
conformed to proper Socio-Psy norms.

Then he can still be Computo-granted
to rise at least one more level

before any disabling incompetence
has to be seriously considered.

The female companion, Linda Lysenko.

No trace of her was found?

No trace.

But of course, there's no
practical reason for a search.

her body would've begun to
decompose and be much too

contaminated for Phophorus Chemocovery.

Tomakin?

Get away from me.

I'm not one of you.

I don't belong here.

I may as well have died.

Not that I mind dying

I had very high marks in
Death-Appreciation as a child.

Get away!

They're the ones.

It's all their fault.

Which one?

Both of them.

That is impossible! Which?

Must the truth be
torn from your tongue?

Both of them!

Horrible savages.
Get them away from me!

I want Tomakin back.

Then it was the one
from the Other Place.

Tomakin...

Since it was the other, you may stay.

Stay?

Stay here!?

What are you talking about!?

Get me some Soma.

Anything!

Can't you see that there's
something wrong with me?

Probably caught one of your horrible,
primitive diseases.

Makes me feel like this every morning.

And look!

That is because of the child.

Child?

Baby.

Baby?

Because you are pregnant.

Pregnant!?

Male, yes?

A male child?

I don't care.

You must choose a name for him.

Now, while the evening star
bares the fullness of moon.

I don't care.

Without a name, the goddess of life
can't touch breath to his lips.

One.

John, John, John!

I don't care!

Get out. Leave me alone.

It isn't fair.

Now no-one will ever want me.

After the orgy-service,
I've got tickets for the new Feelie.

Oh that's wonderful!

I'll be ready right after work.

Wrong. Wrong. Alcohol addict
to Alpha-plus bottle. Wrong.

Oh well.

No no! It is a sacred wine.

Nectar potion,
only meant to anoint you with.

But I don't have any Soma.

Cento-partuatary extract levels:
satisfactory.

Hyper-oxygenation levels: satisfactory.

Final DNA genetic scan-level-

An Alpha-plus bag of Bernard Marx.

Of course, it should've been caught
earlier in the production line.

The Chief Quality Engineer seems
to think some of the alcohol for

sub-stunting Epsilons embryos has
gotten into this Alpha-bag by mistake.

But, of course, that's quite impossible with
the zero-flow procedures I've instituted.

Probably some clerical mix-up before
the raw material reached my division.

But I can ensure you, that I intend
to institute more computer control.

Yes, I'm sure.

Are there any other production-defects?

Oh, no no no.

Just one random mistake.

A random error? Interesting.

The name again?

Bernard Marx, an Alpha-plus, male.

Shall I order the unit aborted?

No!

Proceed with the assembly.

Male, Alpha-plus.

Marx,
Bernard G. Inspected and approved.

Case number 8. Raquel Gandhi,
Beta-minus.

Eradication and
Rectification technician.

Consistent failure to share an
Orgy-Porgy devotional service.

Recommendation:
re-education center of subjects' choice.

Approved.

Case number 9. Bernard Marx, Alpha-plus,
aged 6, Central Nurseries Plant.

Bernard Marx...

So he's six years old now.

Continued socially
erratic behavior patterns.

Failure to conform to prescribed
Intellectual Achievement Norms.

He hasn't been able to keep up
intellectually with other Alpha children?

Just the opposite.

It seems he over-absorbed his studies
in less than the time-frame allotment.

A distinct pattern of
deviant over-intelligence.

I see.

And the recommendation
in Bernard's case?

Removal to a Recondition Nursery
for infants and older children.

Denied.

But I want to be kept informed
on Bernard's progress.

Because gray is the nicest-

How lucky to be a Delta-

...not too stupid and not too bright.

So glad to be a Beta.

How lucky to be an Alpha.

Everyone is happy.

Attention. Central Nurseries depot.

Alpha-ward one. Electro-stall 9.

Marx, Bernard G. Rectify.

Sleep refreshes, sleep revives.

Sleep is nice, sleep is good.

Sleep is what everyone should.

Mother?

No no no, I told you!

Don't ever call me that awful name.

I told you, John.

Linda, Linda!

Can't you learn that?
-Yes, Linda.

What are chemicals?

How would I know?

It's your book, Linda.

Well that doesn't mean I
know what chemicals are.

Where do chemicals come from?

From the chemical-supply depot,
of course.

Someone wants chemicals,
the chemical-workers bring chemicals.

Just like anything else.

Like anything?

Yes, anything.

Not like this awful place.

If you want Syntho-food,
the workers bring Syntho-food.

If you want plastic clothes,
the workers bring plastic clothes.

Whatever you want!

I wish I could go there, Linda.

I wish I could too.

Everything is so perfect there.

Everything's there you could want.

And anything you want, you could have.

Anything!

And if you're ever blue-blue.

Wonderful pills that never make you
feel bad afterwards like mescal.

And the people aren't evil and immoral.

And in the other place, everyone
engages with everyone as they should.

And you could engage all the
time with anyone you'd want.

Like Pele?

Oh, no.

I'd never bother engaging anyone
like Pele in the Other Place.

Can't we go there, please?

You don't understand. It's too late.

Hey, see what I got?

Mescal!

Let me have some, Pele!

Please?

Sure, the little one out first.

Run out and play, John.

I don't want to.

Come on, John.

Little wolves have little fangs.

I just don't know what to do with you,
Bernard!

Maybe the Chief
Computer-Structure does.

Well, well, Bernard Marx again.

Still refusing to participate in
Religious Sex Devotion exercises?

No, this time he distracted the Erotic Training
class by refusing to play Hunt the Zipper.

Well, well, Bernard.

Don't you like to play Hunt the Zipper?

No.

I see, I see.

Sit down, Bernard.

No, no in the Vibro-water chair.

Comfy?

Now Bernard,
do you want to play Hunt the Zipper?

No.

Are you sure?

You really do want to play, don't you?

No.

Let me ask you again.

Do you want to be allowed to go
back to your Erotic Training class

and play Hunt the Zipper?

Yes.

Fine, now run along back and play.

Quick! Quick!

He does seem to be bit of a problem.

I think we better schedule
him for clinical sessions with

one of the school's
Psycho-Sex therapists.

Whatever you say, of course.

Personally, I think there's
something wrong with him.

He's so little for his age.

Hardly bigger than a Gamma.

You know they say some alcohol got
into his pseudo-blood surrogate

while he was still in the bag.

I've heard that too.

Still, you must admit he's brilliant.

In Computo-reading and play-math, yes.

But he completely failed
his Sensitivity Training.

I think he should be put into
a Remedial Conditioning Class.

Yes, yes.

Or even an Immoral
Reformation Institute.

However, the fact is that,
for whatever reason,

Mustapha Mond has taken a special
interest in little Bernard.

And if the First Assistant
Controller is interested in him,

then we are too.

Aren't we Miss Arco?

Yes, we certainly are.

How all occasions do inform against me,

And spur my dull revenge.

What is a man

If his chief good and
market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed?

A beast, no more.

Leave her alone!

You know what she is?

Yes I know.

She is my mother.

But who is you're father?

Tomakin!

Now leave!

I'm just trying to be good
and do the right thing.

Engaging one is bad.

Having two is good,
having three is best.

Four, five, six is a perfect mix.

Seven, eight,
nine whenever there is time.

Everyone who's civilized knows that.

And now all I can have is Pele,
because he's drunk

and won't work.
And no-one else wants him.

No, not him!

I know it's immoral
to engage only Pele.

What can I do when-

Oh most pernicious woman!

Oh creature that dust in venom

while she's with the vile-

Say something nice for Linda.

From the old book
that Mitsima gave you.

About the pretty lady sleeping?

Tell me that one again.

Please?

But now sleep,

sleep and see what visions I have seen,

of towers cloud capped,

and men that like angels fly,

thither shall we go, you and I.

Alright sir.

Central Hatcheries,
red beam, first level.

Bernard Marx!

Oh, Helmholtz!

Central Hatcheries, please.

Alright, sir.

Miss Trotsky, Miss Meyer,
Miss Rothschild?

Didn't I order a Computer
Rejection Feasibility Chart

on increased production
of Delta Pluses?

Yes, Director.

But it's not there.

No, Director.

Then where exactly is it?

It was supposed to be
done by Bernard Marx.

He's the new Assistant Computologist.

Oh yes, I know the one.

A very spired moral
record to say the least.

Brilliant, I suppose.

But only if Mustapha Mond didn't
take a peculiar interest in him.

But if he's fallen
down an assignment...

Thank you!

Hello Bernard.

Oh Henry,
am I interrupting something important?

No Lenina, I'm doing a current
inventory on Epsilon production.

I just wanted to make sure that
it's tonight I'm engaging you.

Yes,
I'm going to pick you up after work.

You didn't forget, did you?

Oh no, I just wanted to make sure.
I'll be ready.

Bye Bernard!

Lenina.

Bye.

Mr. Marx!

I believe you were told to Comput-o-project
the Production Feasibility Rates

of increased Delta production.

Yes, Director.

Then where, may I ask, is the report?

Here, sir.

Here?
And not on my desk Comput-o-screen?

When then it's late.

Unfortunately I had to revise some
of the input from your office,

but I think you'll
find it all here now.

End use allocation percentages
of intensive maximization of

assembly personnel units

and a recommendation to rectify
some of the declining production-

Yes yes yes, we shall see.
We shall just see.

Bernard!

Hello again!

I tried to get you this morning
so we could come together.

Here? I thought you were
working on a new Feelie?

I was, but the producer came with
notion to produce a Docu-Jingle.

On the Central Hatcheries Plant?
That's interesting.

You must be very happy.

Yes, of course. Especially since
they selected me over several others.

Hi, are engaging you anyone tonight?
I'm free.

Actually, I'm tired of work.

Too bad, maybe next time.

Women...

they can be such a distraction.

Really.

How about engaging me tonight, Lenina?

I can't Benito,
I'm engaging Henry Exxon.

How can she let herself be part-

Be careful.

If someone heard you talking like that.
Even as a joke.

You've complained sometimes,
I heard you.

Yes, but not over something
trivial like that.

I have to go to a
Jingle board conference.

Stop by and see me sometime?

She's not trivial.

Hi again.

Hi.

I saw you with Lenina today.

I thought you might be
engaging her tonight.

Oh,
Bernard and I never engaged each-other.

Maybe Bernard doesn't
think I'm pneumatic enough?

I think you're very pneumatic.

Don't forget about the vacation-trip,
Lenina!

You're going on vacation with him?

Maybe.

I suppose you've decided which
girl you're going to take on yours.

No.

Well,
I just can't make up my mind either.

Benito asked me, and Henry Exxon

and Nikita Firestone.

I just don't know!

I want to go somewhere
different this time.

Somewhere special.

I guess I better be going.

Henry will be waiting for me.

I expected young Marx would be wanting
to something out of the ordinary.

I see no reason not
to grant his request.

But you don't agree.

Well, I know Bernard Marx is
a special project of yours.

but no-one has been allowed to visit the
Savage Reservation since Thomas Grahmbell.

All the more reason.

We can see how he reacts
to Bernard's going.

Of course,
it is young Marx I'm interested in.

As you say, a special project.

If a random variant, like Bernard,
proves to be socially adaptable

it might mean that certain
mutations would be useful.

'Course,
he could be Psycho-Emotively disordered

by exposure to the freedom
of the reservation.

Yes, and then he would be quite
useless for further testing.

Perhaps if a normative factor
is controlled in, a female.

Has he requested permission
to bring one along?

I believe so.

Yes, a Beta-technician in
the Central Hatcheries Plant

Lenina Disney.

Bernard Marx!?

You're actually going on your
vacation-trip with little Bernard Marx?

Yes!

But why?

Nobody goes anywhere with him.

I know, but this is something different,
special.

Bernard has permission to
go to the Savage Reservation

almost no-one except the
Director has ever been there!

Besides, I like Bernard.

Of course I've never engaged him, but

there's something about him that's so..

cuddly

Bernard, it's all set.

I've arranged my Comput-o-leaves so I can
go to the Savage Reservation with you.

That's wonderful!

Of course we should
engage once before we go.

Otherwise people would start talking.

Maybe even tomorrow night,
if I shift around-

Could we go somewhere
private to discuss this?

Whatever for?

Besides, I don't have time right now.

Come on Lenina, we're going to
be late for the Sens-u-Feelie.

Just a second!

Tomorrow night,
I'm sure I can fit you in.

Going off on vacation with Lenina!

Don't worry, you'll enjoy engaging her

I always do.

I don't care and I don't
want to hear about it.

You seem upset about something.

Maybe you've been working to hard.
Remember.

Work to play and play to work.

A little Soma, that'll fix you up.

Remember, a Soma a day-

I don't need any Soma!

And I don't want any Soma.

How about Ampheta-pep?

No!

Maybe a violence-passion surrogate
treatment? Sometimes that does wonders.

Maybe you're right.

Just step into the Psycho-porter, sir.

Let's make sure you're
comfy and secure in there.

We have electrode contact!

All in order.

What would your preference be?

An inquisition torture chamber?

A pirate raid?

Perhaps you'd like to try our new
"Gangster rub out" treatments.

A novelty, but we've had
excellent results with them.

What's your strongest treatment?

The gladiator circus, number 4.

But I would not recommend that for you,
sir.

It could be quite demanding,
physically.

Only Betas and Alphas are-

I am an Alpha!
Can't you see what I'm wearing!?

Yes! I just thought there
was a slight confusion.

I don't think so.

Number 4, thank you.

Yes, sir. Whatever you wish.

Why did you stop the treatment, sir?

Were you displeased?

Would you like to try a different one?

No, thank you. I'm just

There are some things I have
to think about... consider.

Think? Consider?

How awful it must be to be an Alpha.

And how lucky we are to be Gamma!

After all

To be good is Gamma,
because Gamma is good.

The girl I was telling you about,
Lenina.

I think about her all the time.

And what's worse,
now that I'm taking her on vacation

I feel even more wanting about her.

Where are you going to?
The new Lux-o-camps?

No, Savage Reservation.

Really?

How did you manage that?

Maybe something like
that is what I need.

You know how distracting
everything can be

too many awards, too many girls

too much of everything.

Sometimes, I wish I was young
again and starting out like you.

Helmholtz, you're successful,
you're talented.

Yes, everyone says I've written some
of the finest contemporary Jingles.

Still, lately I have the strange feeling that
there must something more I can write about.

Something different!

Really?

Like what?

Well,

like the Sens-u-emotions in the
Sens-u-Feelies and VPS-cubicals?

Suppose that

people can really feel those
things love, hate, passion-

Now look here, Helmholtz.
Suppose someone hear you talk like that.

Both of us could be send to
reconditioning centers or

even one of those free islands,
like Iceland or Madagascar.

And you what that means,
no Soma, no Ampheta-pep

no thank you.

You're right,
we shouldn't be talking like this.

I shouldn't even let myself
think about such things.

I wish my problems were simple,
like yours.

Simple?

Of course!

If you want this Lenina, just tell her.

What could be any simpler?

Don't be alarmed, sir.
It's just the Solidarity patrol.

Are you all right, sir?

Can we help you in some way?

I'm perfectly alright.

But you're alone aren't you? There must
be something wrong if you're alone.

No, I'm not alone. I'm coming to see
someone, there. In that compartment.

A female Beta.

That's different. Go right on, sir.

Bernard! What a coincidence!

I was just talking about you
while Henry Exxon was engaging me.

Don't just stand out there, come in!

Not here.

Isn't it awfully late for us
to go engage anywhere else?

That isn't what I mean.

I want you to come with me.

Now?

Yeah, now.

There's no-one here! It's empty!

I know, that's why I come here.

By yourself?

But Bernard, it's unnatural.

I know it.

Sometimes I just don't
understand you at all, Bernard.

Sometimes I don't
understand myself either.

I don't like it here Bernard.

It's so silent and empty.

There isn't even any Muzak.

Why ever did you bring me here?

Why don't we go somewhere,
so we won't be so alone.

I want to be alone. With you.

So that we can talk.

Talk?

Whatever would we talk about?
Especially alone?

No-one really wants to be alone.

I do. I want to be alone.

And I really don't know why.
Except sometimes it makes me feel...

more special. Different.

Like I feel about you know.

I don't want anyone else, I want you.

Just you.

We shouldn't have left my place.
I guess we could go to yours.

You don't understand, I want you.

Just you, or no-one.

But everyone has everyone,
so no-one has no-one!

Yes, I know.

And everyone has everything,
so no-one wants anything.

That's right!

You feel better now, don't you?

A little.

What are you doing here, Marx?

You send for me, sir.

Oh, yes. In a minute then.

Miss Rothschild, would you come
to my office for a moment please?

Why have I send for him?

He's going off on his vacation,
you have to sign his Computo-leave.

Oh, yes.
Then why is his file not punched up?

It is.

Even worse than I suspected. His work
record is definitely aberrational.

He's actually been doing twice his
scheduled work in barely half the time.

That sort of thing can lead to complete
breakdown of the system-analysis automation.

When does he leave for his vacation?

Tomorrow.

Perhaps while he's gone,
I can do something about him.

Well I suppose I'll have to see him.

Send him in.

Send in Mr. Marx, please.

Tonight, Rochina?

I can't tonight,
I'm engaging Helmholtz Watson.

Oh yes, the Tele-Feelie Jingle writer.

Well check for me with Miss Trotsky and
Miss Meyer. Perhaps one of them is free.

Bernard Marx, your performance has
not been completely satisfactory.

I only hope

sincerely hope

that your time in vacation will
allow you to seriously reflect.

Do you follow me?

Yes, sir.

Good.

Well,
where is it you're planning to go?

To the Savage Reservation.

That's impossible.

Even in the past only the most rigorously
selected individuals were allowed to go there.

As a matter of fact,
I once went there myself.

Yes sir, I know that.

I can assure you it would much to
dangerous for someone like you.

Only stamina and skill
allowed me to survive it

and the female I took along,
I don't recall her name,

she was exceptionally pneumatic.

In any case she didn't survive it.

So you see, it would be quite impossible
for you to be allowed to go there.

But I've already been
granted permission to go.

Obviously a mistake of some sort.

Not really. As you'll notice,
it is official, signed by His Fordship.

Well yes, I see.

If you would sign it too, sir.

There.

I hope you...

enjoy yourself.

Thank you Director.

Vitina is busy too-

Not now, not now.

Insipid, pushy little...

With something like that
on his Computo-file,

he'll probably think he'll be
advanced to an administrative position

Well, we'll just see about that.

You mean him?

Yes, Marx.

Bet he's got the ridiculous idea he could
be Computo-upped to my position one day.

We'll just see about that.

And then Thomas called the
whole staff together. Everyone.

Even the Gamma clerks.

And he announced that he'll be
officially removed of all duties,

because of gross moral and
professional dereliction.

Bernard Marx?
-Yes.

I just love your feeling in bed, it so-

pneumatic.

Go on, I mean about Bernard.

Well then Thomas said

he was going to officially transferred
to one of the sub-stations.

On a free island. Iceland, I think.

As soon he's back from-

What are you doing?

I'm just checking the time.

But it's too early and I don't
have to be in office until-

Where are you going?

I have to make a Tele-call.

Now?

Bernard?
Are you done with your Tele-call?

Bernard!

Iceland.

What?

Iceland.

Ah, Bernard. You don't want to go there,
they say it's awful.

Transferred.

It's not fair.

Just because I got
permission to come here?

He's afraid how it will look on my file.
That's it.

What do I do?

Just take an extra few grams of sSoma.
It'll be alright.

Wasn't will make me ill,
I take a gramme and only am!

No,

he'll probably think
I'll run right back.

Then it won't be on my Computo-file.

Well, well, here you are.

I'm the Chief Warden, Stalina Shell.

I suppose you stayed over at
the Rocket-port Lux-hotel?

Climatization, that's the thing.

I see they haven't outfitted you yet.
We'll take care of that and show you about.

No, thank you,
we want to go straight there.

To the Savage Reservation?

But you should be out-fitted first.

Ultra-sonic micro-bomb pop-popper,
extra rations of Soma and Ampheta-pep.

Thank you, I don't need anything.

If we could go straight to
the reservation, please.

Then, I can't give you a
guided tour of our station...

whatever you wish. This way.

It was almost like a Feelie. Wasn't it?

Can I have a Soma?

But I used all of mine.

You should have taken the
ones the Warden offered you.

If only there where someone
here other than these savages.

There!

No, that's a savage.

Oh, but he's different than the others.

He's so beautiful.

Good morrow, strangers.

I pray to be of any service to you?

Oh, well, thank you.

You come from the Other Place,
do you not?

Who are you?

You see before you a man of besmirched
honour and heart-pierced shame.

Look, there.

Oh, damned spot.

A gramme is better than a damn.

Oh, if I could have suffered the slings and arrows
to rent my too, too sullied flesh like the others.

But you're not like the others.

Your skin is so smooth

and your hair is so fair.

Yes, because of my skin.
It should be my blood!

Like the multitudinous
seas incarnadine,

there for all to see.

What are you talking about?

There, there!

I should've been the one chosen.

I could have withstood the whips.

I could have appeased
the very bolts of heaven

and stood in proudest reignment
before the crucified son of Nakatun.

But no, they denied that to me.

Oh, unfortunate fool.

What a shame. If only I had
some Soma to share with you,

you'd feel better right away.

A Soma a day keeps the jim-jams away.

Sometimes Linda used to say that.

Oh, is she like me?

No, not like you.

Do you like me?

Maybe you'd feel better if we went-

Who's Linda?

What?

Who is Linda?

Oh, my mother.

She came here long ago from the Other Place,
but she was lost and separated from Tomakin.

My father.

Is Tomakin your?

My father.

Was he from the Other Place also?
When did he come here?

What did he look like?

Well, I'm afraid I couldn't tell you,
but Linda could. Do wish to speak to her?

Yes, right away.

Linda!

What is it?

Someone to see you!

Pelè?

No.

She'll be right out.

They're civilized!

Are you from the real world?

Ford be praised.

At last! At last!

Someone to come who can understand

You're a Beta, aren't you?

Just like me!

I'd love to wear something
nice like that again.

If you only how it's been like for me,

no Soma and no Feelies,

and no Gamma's and Delta's and
Epsilons to do the dreadful work.

Really,

worst of all,

they won't let you engage
with someone anytime you want.

He said his,

the one you came with, Tomakin?

No, I just called him that.

He was very important,

Assistant Director of
the Central Hatcheries.

But I've forgotten his real name.

Thomas Grahmbell?

Yes!

I suppose he's forgotten
all about me by now.

Don't be so sure.

How would you and your-

How would you both like to
come back there with me?

You mean to the Other Place?

You'll take us there?

Don't you want to go?

Oh yes, yes! Thank you!

Linda has told me how perfect it is.

I've dreamed of it.

But now to actually go there!

Being able to leave this place!

Be like Miranda and find
a new wondrous world.

Who?

Oh what wonders!

How many goodly creatures there be?
How beauteous mankind is!

How lovely and fair...

Are you married to her?

Am I what!?

Married.

Thus joined let two souls be as one.
You understand, forever.

here the word they speak mean that,
forever.

I wouldn't know.

Oh brave new world,
and such people in it.

The Computo-records verified her,
her name is Linda Lysenko.

A Beta-minus fertilization technician.

And, apparently, there is no doubt
that the young savage called John was-

Well, that is to say, she's actually-

His mother?

Yes! And it was Computo-facted and verified
that while in the Savage Reservation

she actually gave viviparous birth,
and it's quite clear that...

The father

Male impregnator could
not have been a primitive.

Is that all?

It's a dreadfully scandalous
thing to come to light.

Of course,
but interesting none the less.

Especially the young savage.

Viviparous birth and a unconditioned
environment, the perfect experimental subject.

After Marx removed them from the Savage
Reservaton, he took them to the local Luntz hotel.

He has made a number of Tele-calls seeking
permission to bring them back here.

Of course, it was denied.

Of course, such permission could only come
from Your Fordship himself, naturally.

Naturally.

Have the next call from
Marx transferred here.

Directly to Your Fordship's office?

Directly to me. And only to me.

What's wrong with her?

She's fine, she's just Soma-tripping.

Now, before I go let me acquaint you
with some of our modern conveniences.

Bernard!

Don't be afraid! It's just a
vibro-vacuum massager. Watch.

You see?

Maybe you'd like to try
our electro-healing couch?

Maybe later.

Oh, well alright, if you're not interested
in this, maybe you're feeling hungry.

Here we have our micro-mini snack-bar.

You just pick whatever item you like, push
one of the artificial flavour buttons,

how about minced burger and some imitation
chips? Go ahead, anything you like.

Bernard,
I'm afraid I'm not very hungry.

It's alright.

You see?

Perhaps there's something
worthwhile on the Tele-Feelie.

The following Tele-Feelie program
schedule is now available:

Channel 1: The Guiding Neon.

Channel 2:
The Fordian Tabernacle Sing-a-long hour.

Channel 3: General Dispensary.

Channel 4: High Holy Orgy day services.

Channel 5...

I'm afraid there's nothing
much on right now except,

detergent serials and
Syntho-Religious programs.

Maybe you'd prefer the view.

Something different, uh

a seascape.

Or whatever you feel like!

Oh, what wonders!

Is all this in the Other Place too,
Bernard?

Oh, more than this John, lots more!

John, you can have anything you want.

Then why weren't you happy there,
Bernard?

I don't know, uh,

sometimes I felt like I
didn't exactly belong, like,

I didn't quite fit in
with everybody else, but

you wouldn't understand about that,
John.

Oh, but I do, Bernard! I do understand!

That's the way I always felt in Malpais,
because I wasn't like everyone else.

Well it's going to be different now,
for both of us.

Just wait 'till we get back there and
they find out about you, you'll see.

When do we go Bernard? Soon? Now?

Well first I have to get permission, that's
why I'm going now to make a Tele-call.

While I'm gone, I want you stay right
here, I don't want you to go anywhere.

Do you understand, John?

Oh yes, Bernard!

You'll be allright, you're not afraid?

Afraid? No.

I mean, to be here all alone?

Alone?

Did the girl go away?

Lenina? No.
She's upstairs soma-napping.

John, don't worry.

What heavenly perfection rests
upon her hands, her eyes, her hair,

her cheeks.

Oh, but to steal an immortal blessing,

from the lips of my Juliette.

And of course, the moment I discovered
the actual background of the savage,

sort to speak, I realized this could be of
considerable scientific importance, naturally-

Yes, yes Mr. Marx,
I understand the situation.

Permission will be granted for you to
bring the savage and the woman back here.

And I will expect you to give me a full report
on the savage's activities and reactions.

Yes, Your Fordship, you can count on me to
do everything necessary to see that full

advantage is taken of the savage.
For science, of course.

Yes, of course.

Thank you, Mr. Marx.

I have called the members of the
upper staff of the plant here for

a necessary,

but unfortunous reason.

As Director of the
Central Hatcheries Plant,

I have a special responsibility,

to see that it's reputation
remains absolutely spotless.

Unfortunately,

a blemish has appeared.

A blemish that if allowed to remain,

could tarnish the reputation
of the entire plant.

I speak, of course,
of Mr. Bernard Marx.

I have, if I may say so,
been overly indulgent with Mr. Marx.

His work record has been deficient.
In all respects.

Still,
that could possibly be overlooked.

But Mr. Marx's morals,

or should I say lack of morals

cannot be ignored.

He has been officially observed
alone on numerous occasions.

He has twice refused to attend
High Holy Syntho-Sex services,

and that is by no means the
complete extend of his immorality.

Mr. Bernard Marx has engaged

with only three females

in the last year!

Therefore I have decided to request

his immediate transfer to
the free island of Iceland.

And I'm sure, after what you've
heard here of Mr. Marx's record

each of you

approves my decision.

Marx there?

Yes. But there's also-

Doesn't matter, whatever it is can wait.
Send him in.

Well! Mr. Marx.

I suppose you know why you've
been summoned here today?

Yes.

I've decided to make an example of you.

So it'll be clear that deviance and
immorality will not be tolerated.

That is why, as you see,
I've called the staff together.

So they derive the moral lesson from
your disgrace and your dismissal.

Good.

Good?

Yes, good!

I'm glad they're all here.

Mr. Marx you seem to be
taking this very lightly.

But once you've been transferred
to Iceland you'll begin to realize-

Just one moment!

Do you realize that
you're interrupting me?

Yes, I realize that.

But there's something of interest
I'd like to bring to your attention.

I'm not interested in anything
you have to show me, Marx.

I think you'll be interested in this,
Director.

Where is he?

Where's my Tomakin?

Oh, that's him! Of course it is.

Did you really think I wouldn't
recognize my very own Tomakin?

Stop it! What are you doing?

Get away from me!

Don't you remember me, Tomakin?

Don't you remember
your little Lindakin?

Get this awful creature away from me!

I have no idea who she is!
I've never seen her before in my life!

Oh yes, you have!

You took her to the Savage
Reservation with you.

You?

It's me, your Lindakin.

You can't be, you're dead.

The female I took with me, she died.

It's a lie!

Marx, he's the one! He's behind this!

I didn't die, Tomakin.

The savages found me and
took me to their village.

And I couldn't leave, because...

because of...

our John.

John?

John? Wha-what are you talking about?

Father!

Oh, the shame of it.

The shame of it!

My whole reputation. Gone.

After years of dedicated work.

Not a single moral blemish
on my Computo-file.

I never allowed myself to engage the
same female three times in a month.

I faithfully attended Orgy
services each and every week.

It just isn't fair!

Yes, I see your point.

But unfortunately your past good
record cannot undo the scandal.

Well, it's his fault!

He planned it all!

Surely not all of it.

Bernard wasn't even in his embryo-bag

when you went to the Savage
Reservation with Linda Lysenko.

It wasn't my fault.

Perhaps not. But it did happen.

I know. I know.

Everyone is snickering
at me and pointing at me.

I just can't face anyone again!

I don't know what to do!

It's just a thought,

maybe is you went away somewhere,
somewhere far away?

Yes, someplace where
they don't know about me.

I see, you want a transfer.

Yes, a transfer to a place where they
don't know about this awful scandal,

where I won't be the
object of ridicule.

I've heard

there's an opening with the
Hatcheries Sub-station on Iceland.

Iceland?
Yes, that sounds remote enough.

Would you see that his transfer to
Iceland is put through immediately?

This way.

Uh,

that awful Linda creature,
she isn't out there is she?

No she didn't come, just your-

your son.

Oh no, no, no.

Perhaps you better
take him the other way.

What a shame.

Yes, I could see how deeply affected
you were by his predicament.

Well, I mean, it's sad

a man who has given so much to so many,
out like that.

Oh, then you've modified your
opinions of our society I take it?

You know, Your Fordship,

I don't know who has been telling
you things like that about me.

That's of no consequence now.

You seem to have made quite
a splash with your savage.

Oh, it's amazing! People are clamoring-

I've received Tele-calls from
some of the most respected people.

Everyone wants to know
what he's really like.

Yes, I'm sure.

But, for the moment, I'm much more
concerned with what he thinks of us.

I'm going to leave
you in charge of him.

But of course, I will require complete
reports on everything he does.

You understand?

Yes, of course, Your Fordship!

So this is the savage!

Well, come in!

I'm summoned forth.

But you'll get to come and see me,
won't you?

Is that allowed?

Oh yes, that's allowed here.

In fact, required.

But come along now,
you'll have time for that later.

Fare thee well at once.

Bernard.

What's going to happen to him?

As a matter of fact,
I've been full responsability over him.

By His Fordship personally.

I've been instructed to show him
everything and to report back directly.

Oh, well that won't leave
much time engaging, won't it?

I'm afraid I'm going to be rather busy.

I meant John.

Perhaps I can work
something out for you.

Well then, what shall we call you?

My name is John.

But your last name I mean.

Why not Savage?

Mr. John Savage,
how does that strike you for a name?

It woulds't not.

A rose by any other name
would smell as sweet.

A rose?

Oh yes, of course!

You do not have roses here do you?

Oh, I'm sure we do. In one of our
Nature-Nausea classes or museums.

But don't people wish
to see flowers growing?

Oh, they did once. But we found
flowers to be counter-productive.

A time that could have
spend producing or consuming

was wasted idly looking at flowers.

I'm afraid I do not understand.

Well of course you don't. Yet.

But you will.

That is, if you stay with us?

You're not going to send me back?

No! No! Only if you wish.

You see Mr. Savage, here in our
world you may do anything you wish,

be anything you wish,
have anything you wish.

Yes, and have anyone you wish.

Linda?

No no, Mr. Savage,
you musn't disturb her.

She's having her Joy-hour.

How do I know she's alright?

You can see for yourself.

Just look at her.

If she is happy,

then beasts that reason not and
lack all discourse are happy.

Linda? Linda?

Go away.

But it's John, your son!

Go away!

Soma! Soma! So-

See what you've done,
you thrown off her Soma schedule!

I'm very sorry.

That is all Nanny-nurse.

I'm the Chief Dispenser.
What is it Mr. Savage?

Linda, I want to have her with me.

Quite out of the question.

But she belongs with me,
she's my mother.

I will not tolerate that sort of
dirty language in my dispensary.

And if you plan to say more
filthy things like that,

I'll simply have to ask you to leave,
immediately.

This way, please.

I-I'm sorry, forgive me.

But I do want to have her with me.

I don't think you understand,
Mr. Savage.

Here we have her on a
strict soma schedule,

two happiness hours and
one full joy hour a day.

Without proper dispensary
supervision she would immediately

'Soma-coma'.

And if she didn't get any Soma?

Then she would, of course, scream
incessantly. Is that what you want?

Oh, no no no.

But this Soma, aren't you actually
shortening her life by giving so much.

In one sense, yes.

But in another we're
actually lenghtening it.

A 'Mega Soma-coma'is bit what the
ancients used to call "eternity".

Eternity?

Eternity was in our lips and eyes.

You mean that?

Not exactly.

In any case, Mr. Savage,

you can be sure we do everything
possible for her here.

Although nothing,
of course, can save her.

You don't mean she's dying now!?

No, no, not now.

But sooner or later the
'Mega-Soma dosis'

will lead to paralysis of
the respiratory sector.

Her breathing will then cease and
she will die of terminal bliss.

I want to be with her when...

How soon will it happen?

It's difficult to say.
Especially in her case.

The first sign is usually
a brief reality relapse.

Of course,
you don't want to see her then.

But I would!

Very well, Mr. Savage.

I'll see that you're contacted.

-To: His Fordship, Mustapha
Mond. Western World Controller.

From: Bernard Marx.
Subject: John Savage.

I first took the Savage to the
Great Cathedral of Our Ford.

He was inspired by the deep synthetic
reverence of the worshipers.

And I also believe I was able to explain to
him the rudiments of surrogate spirituality

and 'placebic' belief.

John's tour of a Senior Kindergarten
Conditioning School was,

a complete success.

Naturally I couldn't explain all
the educational intricacies such as

Advanced Play-Math to him.

But I believe he might well be able to
grasp some of simpler things such as

Nature-Nausea
reinforcement conditioning.

Bernard, why-

While the Savage was obviously
charmed by the Erotic Play class,

it did seem to raise a
question in his mind.

He asked again, "where were the-

mothers where the children came from?"

Now, Mr. Savage, I think you'll
find this very interesting.

After the embryos are bagged,

they come along here for
initial model selection.

At the moment we are turning
out redesigned Delta's.

Oh, Juliette move not.
And on thy sweet lips would

my soul be perched.

Mr. Savage? Come along.

I want to show you our all new
Bokanovski Embryomatic Separator.

One Epsilon unit goes in and
out come sixty reproductions

absolutely identical to the original
in every production detail. Come along.

Please! I'm sorry, no more questions,
we must keep on schedule-

Are you engaging anyone tonight?

Perhaps, I'll give you a Tele-call.

John, hurry! we'll be late for
the Ford's day Syntho-service.

What are they doing?

These are the Delta workers
receiving their daily ration of Soma.

Like Linda?

Yes, not as much, but the same thing.

Why? You said they were happy?

Of course, they're happy,
everyone's happy.

Then why do they take the Soma?

Because it's prescribed, three after
work and six on the Ford's day.

Why, Bernard?

John,
really you must stop using that word.

Over here Mr. Savage!

That's enough, we have to go on
with our tour for Mr. Savage.

No more pictures.

But we need a statement
for the Daily Tele-Times.

Say one of your funny
things Mr. Savage!

O for a Muse of fire,

that would ascend the
brightest heaven of invention.

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act.

And nobles to behold
the swelling scene!

It's wonderful.
-That's perfect!

Shall I go on?

Say something more, anything!

That's all, I'm sorry,
we must go on with our tour.

You can all interview
Mr. Savage later on.

Right this way, Mr. Savage.

I hope none of that upset him?

I mean,
I do hope do put anything unfavourable

about our operation in your report?

Well, we'll see.

You can count on me to leave
out any minor matters as long we

understand eachother.
-Oh we do, we do Mr. Marx. I assure you.

Carefull Mr. Savage! Not too close.

What is this?

Those are Helio-fusion tubes.

You see we take
Helio-energy from the sun.

The sun. Up there. Pop-pop?

Then we pipe it,
thousands feet down there, underground.

Where it is turned into
nuclear-fusion energy.

Bubble bubble. Fizz fizz.

Then back up comes fusion-energy
through those tubes.

It's really quite simple.

Approach,
thou beacon to this under globe!

And thou, all-shaking thunder, strike
down the thick rotundity o' th' world!

Well, yes,
I suppose you could put it that way.

You will put that in your report,
won't you? I mean

that I explained everything to him?

What's wrong with them?

Oh, that's a batch of our specially
sub-stunted Epsilon workers.

As you can see, they were designed
specifically for Helio-fusion work.

Heat-emotion pigment,
growth-inhibiting hormones.

You will note that their
bodies were designed

to fit perfectly into
the coils of the tubes.

Bernard, may we go?

Oh, but we haven't seen the Delta
Radio-fax workers yet, we haven't-

I must go.

I feel a sickness of spirit. I'm sorry.

Oh, perhaps we better go.

You won't put any of this
in your report, won't you?

We have to leave.

You're behind schedule, take your
elevator down for another batch.

You did extremely well the
other day at Obstacle Golf.

I mean for having never
played the game before.

But it's not a game, Bernard.

Everyone sits at that
machine pressing buttons,

But no-one runs or jumps
or throws like any game.

It just to be like that once, I think.

With a round object that
people used to hit with sticks.

Naturally, not many people
could play at the same time.

But when they replaced these sticks
and round things with machines,

so more people could spend more
time consuming more energy.

But noone plays though, Bernard.

Why do you call it a game?

Because that's what it's called.

Central Slumbertorium. Two. Priority.

Very good, sir. First level. Pink beam.

What is this, Bernard?

This is the Slumbertorium
Garden of the Departed Ones.

And there is no need to whisper.

Beautiful, aren't they?

Are they truly dead?

Oh, yes. Naturally, the departed
ones aren't shipped here for

formal 'Cosmetic Reconstitution'
until they passed on.

But I can assure you this is
way they looked in real life.

What killed them?

Oh, nothing at all.

By taking the right chemicals we all
stay young untill perhaps 80, 90.

That's when the, uh,
metabolic strain causes P.P.O.

that's 'Peacefull Passing On'.

Where as a right of Creative Cremation-

It's alright,
you pushed a Disposa-button.

Where did he go!?

Down to the Chemo-recovery furnace.

The bodies are brought here
for Cosmetic Reconstitution

before cremation,
and final chemo-recovery,

that way the chemicals that
are salvaged from the body

are returned to usefulness,

and the individual goes around being
part of the Greater Society forever.

Do you want to play the Plop-Plop game?

Yeah!

Well, have you all finished your
'Yum-Yum Soma-candy'?

Yeah!

Since you've all been very, very
good on our Death-Training pick-nick,

I guess it's time for your reward!

Each gets one Plop-Plop!

Yay!
-But just one!

Go on.

Alright children, all together

Death is perfect, death is fun,
death is good for everyone!

Good! Very good!

Let's do it again,
and show Mr. Savage here,

how we sing our
'We're not afraid of dying' song.

When there's no-one left,

sing the song of death,

for a twenty corpses, baking in a stew,

making pretty chemicals,
just for me and you-

No! You don't understand!

Death is dark as night!

In that country from whose bourne,
no traveler returns.

And none need caught death,
but death will come to each.

And so let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories
of the death of kings.

Let us talk of graves-

Really Mr. Savage,

you've completely ruined
my Death-Training class.

Now I'll have to start
all over with them again.

Come on children, we'll go back
to the dying in the hospital

and have a fun pick-nick.

If you ask me, I think you should
start educating your savage.

Come on.

I'm sorry, Bernard.

I seem to have done something wrong.

John, this incident is
strictly between you and me.

And the savage then completely
disrupted an advanced

Syntho-Philosophy course by asking
strange questions to the students.

What sort of questions exactly?

Well, here for instance,

he asked them to explain to him why

life was a tale told by an idiot

full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Some sort of primitive gibberish,
obviously.

Ah, yes. Macbeth.

Yes, obviously gibberish.

How about females?
How many has he engaged with so far?

None!

I know it's incredible. But atleast
according ot this report from Marx,

that does seems to be the case.

And despite several illustrated
lectures on morality,

he still seems to attached to his...

His mother?

Yes, his mother. Decidedly unnatural.

For us, of course.
But not for John Savage.

Suppose he contaminates others
with his base animalistic attitude?

Unnatural is unnatural.

Perhaps, but then that's precisely
what the experiment is all about.

To determine whether the Savage

can adjust to our higher
plain of morality.

Of course,
if that proves to be impossible,

the experiment has to be terminated.

Should I advise Bernard Marx of that?

No, I don't think so. Afterall Mr. Marx
is part of that experiment now too.

I think I've really done
wonders with this boy.

You've no idea how difficult this
sort of responsibility can be.

Tours, interviews,
lectures and of course,

Our Fordship wants me to report
personally about the Savage.

Well, I suppose I should be quite
impressed by you these days, Bernard.

Well,

enough about me.

Tell me about yourself, Helmholtz.

What have you been doing?

Just a small piece of my
own I've been working on.

Maybe you'd like me to show it to you?

I'd love to, but I don't have the time.

I'm sorry. You do understand, do you?

Yes, I think I do.

You've changed, Bernard.

I'm not surprised that you noticed.
Everyone has.

As a matter of fact,
just yesterday Sigmunda Lüse,

head of the Human Element
Reconditioning Bureau,

told me that everyone's been
saying that I'm a new, improved

Bernard Marx.

What happened to the young man

I used to be able to
share any concerns with

and questions on the
nature of free will?

What happened to the young man who,
so often,

wondered what it to be like
to live free of conditioning?

What happened to that Bernard Marx?

All Computo-lescent nonsense,
I've outgrown all that.

Now, I really have to hurry if I want
to make my engagement with Sigmunda.

Helmholtz,
just a wise word from a friend.

The sort of things that
you were talking about,

concerns, free will.

I really think you
should be more carefull.

I will.

Tonight?

You're going to engage
with the Savage tonight?

How thrilling!

Bernard arranged it.

Oh, I really do envy you Lenina.

I mean, everybody's talking about you

being interviewed by
the Feelie-tone News,

being asked to lecture at the
Young Women's Fordian Association

and being engaged by the President

of the External and Internal
Secretions Corporations.

Oh, it's so wonderfull. Except.

What?

One part of it bothers me a little,

the trouble is I feel like I'm getting
all this attention under false pretenses.

The first thing everyone
wants to know is

"what's it's like to
engage the Savage?"

The trouble is...

I just can't tell them.

Because I don't know.

You don't know?

You mean you've never
engaged with the Savage?

Why not?

I've given him every opportunity!

There must just be something
about me that he doesn't like.

Although I can't imagine
what it could be.

Well I don't know either, I mean,

you're very pneumatic.

Maybe tonight will be different.
We're going to see the new Feelie.

And then we're going to
take a Sens-u-Pleasure Tour.

He's bound to be in the
right mood after that.

Everyone says it's just wonderful!
It's about this Blast-o-food worker,

that's Roger,

and he eats something that
accidentally preconditions him

and when he sees June,
he only wants her,

but because he's sick, he doesn't
want anybody else to have her either.

So he comes all alone at night to the-

Shh!

Oh, there is my June!

Just like the moon.

Up there in the sky,
like a big plastic pie.

Who's there? Roger?

Roger!

Where are you Roger?
-Here I am!

Oh come fly away with me

and be my little Valentine.

We'll engage all day

and engage all night.

And soar forever to the highest height.

What is it, what's wrong?

You have to put your
hand on the Feelie-mitt

or else you won't get all the effects.

Oh June-June,
I swear by yonder moony-moon.

Hmmph, no, no!

I hear someone coming!

You must go! Quick!

Saying goodbye is so much fun,

that I will keep it up
'till night is done.

No!

No, it's wrong!
Romeo and Juliette isn't like that!

Lenina,

you shouldn't go to
see things like that.

The Feelie you mean?

It was based and ignoble.
It was unworthy of someone like you.

Well, I didn't know it
was going to be like that.

That it would something
that would upset you I mean.

You didn't know?

Well then, that explains everything.

It does?

Oh, then I'm glad!

Well,

Good night.

Good night?

Aren't you-

I mean I thought that-

No.

Don't you like me?

Don't you like the way I look?

Why don't you just come in?

No, I musn't.

Good night.

No Henry.

But why?

I-I don't know.

What do you think?

It's fine, I'm sure.

Fine?

Fine!?

This going to be perfect!
You don't know who I've got coming,

Director of the Institute
of Illustrated Mechanics,

Headmistress of Harvard,

Head of the Joint
Chiefs of Computability,

President of the Council
of Decantation Control.

This is just the beginning!
You name them, I've got them!

Oh, and Helmholtz,
if you'd like to come yourself,

that's fine, you're more than
welcome to. Now if you'll excuse me.

You realize that my guests are
from the top echelon of society,

I want the best.

High tone stuff you mean.

Like after the Feelie is over?

That's fine.

What about 'How I love that dear old
bottle of mine'? Can you play that?

Yes, it's programmed for that one too.

That's what I'm talking about.
We want things that are sedate.

Good old Mr. Marx,
strictly high-class stuff.

It's such a responsibility,
but I suppose it is worth it.

After this party,
I'll be invited everywhere.

Is that what you want?

Of course! Don't you?

I suppose,

or at least I know I used to.

I'll put in the right word
with the right people for you.

Well, since I've been in charge of
John I've met some influential people.

Where is John?

Oh, John! He should be out here by now.
I better go check on him.

You're absolutley sure you
won't stay for the party?

I don't think I'll fit
in with your guests.

I'm sure you know best.

What are you doing? No!
That won't do at all!

What?
-What!? What you're wearing!

I want you to change
into what you had on

when you came from the Reservation.

Bernard.

I need to talk to you
about some things.

John, my guests are arriving.

I need to talk to you about Lenina.

No, no, she would not do at all.

They're expecting to see
the Savage naturally.

I want you to look like a savage.
Change.

Mr. Marx, where is the Savage?

He's getting ready.

There's Elton Lynn, a marvelous
Tele-cartoonist. If you'll pardon me-

Anita Shapely,

Director of the Bureau of Standards
and Practices of Socio-Sex Norms.

Bernard Marx?

Yes, I thought so.
From your record of course.

My record?

Oh yes, we keep all
Sex-Deviants records on file.

Now I think it would be best
if I saw the Savage alone.

Naturally, I prefer to conduct my
Socio-Sex examinations in privacy,

so if you could just show me to him-

I couldn't! I-I-I'm...

Couldn't?

Perhaps you're forgetting about the
file on your deviant perversions?

Mr. J. Edgar Milhouse,
Professor of Shredology of the

Advanced College of Histo-Bunk
Rectification Studies.

Prof. Milhouse, I'm so delighted that-

Who are you?

I'm your host, I'm Bernard Marx.

Ah, well, where is he?
Where is the Savage?

I didn't come here to chitchat,

I want to see him. Now.

Yes, of course professor.
I'm just on my way to get him.

Her Reverence
Archdeaconess Rona DeMille,

Director of Orgy-Porgy
Services and Disco-Worship.

Your Reverence,
I shall return in one moment.

You have to come out John,
and that's all there is to it.

I promised everyone that they can
meet you and everyone is here.

You should have asked me first.

But you don't even
have to say anything.

Maybe one or two of
your little speeches.

Please come out, John. Please.

I will not be as flies to wanton boys,

they kill us for their sport.

That's exactly the sort of
thing that I'm talking about.

If you could just come and
say something wonderful

to them like that,
they would adore you!

No.

John how could you act like that?

After all that I've done for you?

Bringing you back here
and everything else?

John.

This party is very important to me and
it should be important to you also!

Everybody's here! Everyone who matters!

They're all waiting to see you!

John you're acting like
an absolute Epsilon!

I promise he's on his way!
He'll be right here, he's coming!

Excuse me, you haven't tasted
the artificial soybean pods!

No, I haven't! And I do not intend to!

I have never been so
humiliated in my life!

Imagine!

Rearranging my entire schedule to
come here and examine the Savage.

And all for nothing!
- Oh no no, not all for nothing,

he's marvelous-

I made a note of this Marx,
and as far as I'm concerned,

you should have been
sent away somewhere.

And after this, you will be.

Professor, what-

And to think I was actually going to
invite him to a High-Holy Disco-Mass,

you can be certain that after this
he'll never be invited anywhere.

If you all just please wait-

Don't think you'll get away with this,
you little nothing.

I'm going to see that everyone finds
out about this little fiasco you staged.

If you would all wait and
be patient for one moment!

Obviously Thomas was right about you!

Now everyone will know
what you're really like!

Benito, don't go!
We can talk about old times,

we've always been friends!

Not now, Bernard. I mean,

if stay here with you,
then they start laughing at me too.

Get out of here, all of you!

Get out! Just get out!

Stop playing and get out.

Get out of here! What are you deaf?

Bernard?

Did you send them away?

No, they left.
When they couldn't see you, they left.

It's a scandal.

Everybody is going to
be talking about it.

Everyone is going to be laughing at me.

Once in Malpais, on the Reservation,

more than anything I wanted to be
chosen to be one of the hunters.

They didn't want me.
They laughed at me.

Well what did you do?

I hunted alone.

Well, it's not like that here John.

The most important thing is Community,
Identity,

Stability.
It's wrong to do something alone.

Besides, what would I do?

Anything you wished to do.

Um, I know you want to
help an dl appreciate it,

but you couldn't possibly
understand what I'm going through.

Afterall, you're nothing
but an uncivilized savage.

Bernard,

everything will be allright again.

I don't think so.

I think it will be exactly
the way it was before.

The way you were when I first met you?

But that would be very good!

What are you talking about?

Oh Bernard, there's nothing
wrong with being unhappy.

Perhaps I do not understand.

Perhaps you should speak
to a friend you can trust.

You have a friend, don't you?

Of course I do.
I have dozens of them! Dozens.

Helmholtz!
He's got time for me day, night.

Come on.

Whoever it is, go away!
I don't want see anyone!

Helmholtz, it's me!

Please!
There are people trying to engage!

Instead of wandering about shouting
in the middle of the night!

Oh, Bernard, John.
Well come in, come in.

Really. Some people just have
no sense of decency at all!

It was horrible!

To have everyone leave me there.

To be left

alone,

all alone.

You can't imagine what that felt like!

But I can!
That's exactly what happened!

I found out I could imagine it!

I was invited for a lecture at the school
for Advanced Emotional Engineering,

I don't know what possessed me, but
instead of using the prescribed rhymes,

I started reciting a work of my own.

A new Jingle.
Well what's the harm in that?

No, it's different than that. Wait.

I'll read some of it for you.

I flee from all committees,

stick but a broken drum,

midnight in the city,

suits in a vacuum,

shut-eye sleepy faces,
every stopped machine-

Stop it!

I know! I know, it's full of ideas!
Dissident ideas!

There's even a part later on
about the pleasures of solitude-

Well don't read it!

Ideas like that, my Ford!
Suppose they got inside someone's head!

Yes, that's what the president
of the Solidarity Council said,

when I had to appear before them.

And of course they're right,
I know they're right!

I just that I can't-

You should have destroyed these,
Computo-shredded them!

They're not-Jingles,
I have no idea what they are.

Poetry.

Poetry!?

Po-e-try?

What kind of thing is this?
Explain it to me.

Well it's...

it's not like anything else.

It's beautiful.

Like this,

What a piece of work is a man,

how noble in reason,
how infinite in faculties,

in form and moving,
how express and admirable

and in action how like
an angel in apprehension,

how like a god.

That's worse than what Helmholtz read!

Beauty of the world,
the paragon of animals,

and yet to me what is
this quintessence of dust.

Just stop it! Stop it!

Bernard!

Bernard is right.

The words aren't civilized. Vulgar.

And yet the song,

the ritmes,

obviously whoever wrote them was a
first-rate propaganda technician.

Some primitive Jingle-writer,
I suppose.

But the emotions! The ideas!

Grief, hate!

Computo-lescents vowing
to angels and gods!

No, it's all too uncivilized, vulgar.

If only there was some kind
of believable madness and

violence and passion
one could write about.

But what?

What could it be?

First of all,

I hope that you understand
that I've made every attempt

to reform the Savage's thinking.

The constant contact with
the Savage has allowed me to

rededicate myself to the ultimate principles
of Community, Identity, Stability.

So that I can fulfill-

Yes, I'm sure it has Mr. Marx.

I'm sure.

At the moment, I'm more interested
in the social and emotional

development of the Savage,
than I am in you.

Oh yes, of course, I'm getting to that.

I merely wanted to make sure that
Your Fordship understood that any

maladjustment shown on the part
of the Savage is not my fault.

Then whose fault is it, Mr. Marx?

Well,

as a matter of fact,

he's been spending a great deal
of time with Helmholtz Watson.

They spend hours together talking
about all sorts of aberrational things

like, grief, passion, love.

Not that I let myself be contaminated
about what they're saying.

But of course, you listened yo it?

Yes, of course, I have to.
It's part of my duty isn't?

On the other hand,
if you feel that I shouldn't-

No! Not at all.

How else would you be
able to report to me?

Yes, that's what I thought. And, of
course, it's only reason I did listen.

You say the Savage talks
a great deal about passion

and in fact, love.

Perhaps his maladjustment has to
do with his relations with women.

It can't be. He doesn't have any.

Relations with women I mean. Not that
I haven't tried my very best to explain

that he should engage with
as many women as possible,

but apparently he's just too primitive
to understand about morality.

As a matter of fact,
he actually seems to think it's wrong

to want more than one female.

Then there is one particular female he's
shown a more than ordinary interest in.

Yes, I've made do note of it.
I can give you the name,

not that I've observed them myself,

but I did hear the Savage mention
the name to Helmholtz. It's Lenina,

Lenina Disney.

Perhaps I could speak
to her if you like, uh,

warn her of the consequences.

No.

Since she is apparently part
of the experiment now too.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Cease all Computo-six order operations.

What happened Lenina?

I don't know! I was supposed to be
fertilizing a batch of Gamma females

and I think I turned them
all into Epsilon males.

There, you see. It's all right now!

Besides, they can always use
an extra batch of Epsilons.

But that's the third
mistake I made today.

I don't know what's wrong with me!

Well I do. You haven't engaged
with a single man in over a week

and you refused to go to the
Orgy-session last night at the YWFA.

I suppose everybody's talking
about how bad and immoral I am,

but I can't help myself.

All I want is him, John.

But he doesn't want me.

Oh, nonsense! I mean,
every man wants you, why wouldn't he?

Yes,

why shouldn't he?

Oh Helmholtz!
I'm very glad you could come,

I need to talk to you-

I'm here for you, John.

I just don't understand you.

Sometimes I think you want me,
and sometimes I think youh don't.

Don't you even like me a little?

Oh yes. Oh yes, more than that.

More than words can wheel the matter.

Oh,

I knew you really wanted to be with me.

You do, don't you?

Lenina, I want to be with you always
and forever, for all eternity.

No! Don't say things like that!

First you say such nice things to me,

then you talk to me as if I
were some awful, bad woman.

Oh, no. You,

so perfect, so perfect and so peerless,

created of every creatures best.

But if I'm so perfect then
why haven't you asked for me?

Because I'm not worthy of you.

In Malpais, I would've brought
you the skin of a mountain lion,

but here I do not know what it is
I should do to prove myself to you.

Lenina, set me a task, anything!

I'll make mountains level and the
continent melt itself into the sea.

Oh mistress that I serve,

who makes my labours pleasure.

If only this.
Let me fetch and carry for you.

But why?

There are machines to do everything.

Or at least Epsilon semi-morons.

Besides,
you needn't do anything at all.

Just take me.

Oh please, take me.

Oh please, make me quick. I'll set
my dials so you can drive me wild.

Oh, hug me! Hug me 'till you drug me.

Give me kiss that's full of bliss.

Oh shame, where is thy blush?

Impudent strumpet! Whore!

Get thee to another and go!

A what?

Assume a virtue, if you have it not!

Out of my sight, damned whore!

A gramme is better than a damn!

When your nerves go jingle-jangle,
Soma will make you spick-and-spangle.

The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes
to't with a more riotous appetite.

Oh frialty, thy name is woman.

Was this goodly book made to write
'whore' upon it?

Huh? Yes?

John Savage?

Yes, this is John Savage.

Linda Lysenko.

How serious?

Approaching terminal bliss.

Euphoria, dying in the hospital,
I'll be on my way.

I did love you,

once.

Love is madness.

John?

a Tele-call, it's allright.

What is all this commotion about?

He insists on going into
Intensive Euphoria Unit.

Are you the Head-Nanny nurse?

My name is John Savage,
there's someone here,

Linda Lysenko, I have to see her.

I'm sorry, but no visitors
are allowed in the IEU-ward

without permission from
the Chief Dispenser.

I received a call she was dying.

Of course,

we naturally assumed that you
would be glad to hear the news.

I'm not glad to hear it!

Well we can't have that, after all

death is happy, death is good.

I'll see that you get
an Amphetapep pill.

No no, I don't want a pill.

I just want to see my mother.

Mr. Savage,

we don't allow that sort
of dirty talk in here.

That is all Nanny-Nurse?

Yes, Chief Dispenser.

Now then, Mr. Savage. I assume that
you're here about Linda Lysenko.

Well I can only tell you that
she's doing extremely well.

Her 'Mega-Soma infusions'
have had to be slightly increased.

But she really seems quite cheery
and happy as of course is normal.

Altogether,
we're quite pleased with her condition.

You mean, she's going to be allright?

She is allright, Mr. Savage.

But the Tele-call.
They said she was dying.

Yes, any moment now I should imagine.

Tests indicate it will really
be quite quick and simple,

no need at all for a Central
Euthanasia treatment.

May I see her first?

I can't imagine why.

But she's through there,
in the Final Euphoria Lounge.

Don't disturb the others who are dying.

Others?
-Of course.

Death is social and death is shared.

There!

Yes, exquisite isn't?

Of course, I can't do the sort of finished
artistic work they do on post-termination

with Moulded Plastic Application,
Silicone injection and pigment infusion.

Still, I actually prefer the little,

how shall I call it?

Lifelike quality that's always
lacking in post-termination.

This isn't Linda Lysenko.

No, I was going to start next on her.

And believe me, you absolutely
will not know her when I'm through.

No.

But results are so much better if I can
start while they're in pre-terminal-

No!

Well,

if you don't care how she looks.

Linda, Linda.

Hmm, John.

Were you playing outside?

Yes.

You have to study now, so

when we go back to the Other Place,

you'll know everything.

Say your Alphabet now with me.

A, B, C,

Vitamin D, the...

I forgot, what is it?

I've forgotten.

A, B, C, Vitamin D,

The fat's in the liver,
the cod's in the sea.

That's it, that's it.

E, F, G, H and I

Ford's in his Flivver,
and there's goodies in the sky.

Linda?

John!

Is that you?

Yes.

Don't go away again.

I won't.

Tell me,

tell me again about, about...

What was it?

About the pretty lady dreaming.

Tell me that now, please.

But now sleep,

sleep and see what visions I have seen,

of towers cloud capped,

and men that like angels fly,

thither shall we go, you and I

and such perfection-

My children,
everyone will get his turn.

And the one who does the best will
get an extra 'Soma-cream' treat.

Yay!

You don't mind if my class
plays a little, do you?

Oh no, not all.
That's part of the fun of my job.

Good. Everybody ready?

Get set.

Go!

What's wrong with her?

Leave her alone.

I said leave her alone!

Get them out of here, you understand?

Get them out of here!

Certainly not, Mr. Savage.

You should know by now that this is
a prescribed Death-Training class.

How dare you interfere with the
children's Death Conditioning?

Get them out of here!

Come along, children. Come along.

We'll go play somewhere else.

We'll have a nice game of 'Hunt the Zipper'
and then we'll go to the crematorium-

Pelè?

No.

It's John, mother.

It's John, your son.

Hold me, I feel so-

Help me!

Please help me.

Yes?

But there is nothing at all wrong.
She's just dead.

Attention in the
Intensive Euphoria Lounge,

a new happy one has just passed on.

They'll be right in to get her.

Are you sure she wouldn't benefit
from a little touch-up before...

Please form yourselves into lines
for Soma distribution, thank you.

How many goodly
creatures there are here,

how beauteous mankind is,

Oh brave new world.

Listen to me, this Soma is bad.

It's poison.

It hurts you-

Please don't do that, Mr. Savage.

Soma makes you into slaves.

It robs you of everything
magical and special within you.

Mr. Savage, please don't do that!

You can never be free
untill you're free of Soma!

Everyone be calm! There is an ample
supply of Soma, enough for everyone.

I'm not going let you take anymore.

Now listen to me,

don't you want to feel alive?

Don't want to feel free? Don't you want
to feel the blood coursing in your veins!?

Mr. Savage, don't do that.

This is poison!

Mr. Savage, please.

Mr. Savage, they need their Soma.

No, they don't.

Emergency, Helio-fusion plant number 3.

Send Solidarity Enforcers immediately.

There! It's gone, all of it!

Park Court, please. Number 3-1-7.

Occupant: John Savage.

Present location, activity, respond.

Where's the Savage?

I'm finding out now.

Soma Distribution Centre,
Helio-Thrax Energy Plant.

Activity: Inciting riot.

Amazing!
-Oh my Ford, they're going to think this my fault!

Where are you going?

To help John!

Soma! Soma! Soma!

No! You're not getting any Soma!

You want to be free!

Soma! Soma! Soma!

Where's John?

There!

He's out of control,
he's totally out of control!

Let's get out of here.

No! Let's help him!

There! Stop them!

It's allright now,
we'll take care of everything.

Ready to spray them with Soma-Vapor!

Cover them with Anesthetic Hypo-beam!

Bring up the Sytho-Muzak speaker!

Ready to Syntho-cast.
Voice of Reason tape?

No, I think the Voice of Good Feeling,

Anti-roit speech number two,
medium strength.

Yes, sir.

My friends, my friends...
-Move out.

Please, please,
what is the meaning of this?

My dearest friends, why aren't you
all being happy and good together?

Happy and good. At peace.

Be calm. Be calm.

Please. Please.

I do want you to be happy.

Be happy. Be happy. Be happy.

Yes, be happy!

Now goodbye,
my dearest dearest friends.

May the Good Ford keep
you and watch over you.

Destroy Soma. Destroy Soma.

Apparently the Soma vapour didn't completely
restore them to emotional stability.

Destroy Soma. Destroy Soma.

Farewell.

We don't need your Soma.

We're free, right?

He's the one who caused it.

The Savage.

Nevertheless, I'm afraid we'll
have to take them all in.

Will the three of you come
quietly or must we anaesthetize?

We'll come.

Thank you.

Who, me? Why me?

I-I'm not involved with it,
this is a mistake.

I'm sorry.
But orders have been issued directly

from the Western Controlers Office.
By His Fordship, Mustapha Mond.

All three of you are to be taken in,
immediately.

They're here?

Yes, they're waiting for you.

It's a shame.

Especially the Savage.

After all,
he was anthropologically unique.

Why are they taking so long?
What are they going to do?

If I can just explain to
someone this isn't my fault...

What are you doing?

I'm making some notes on a
new Jingle about feeling-

Feeling what?

I don't know, something, anything!
Just feeling.

That's ridiculous,
it's certainly not going to be any help

I don't care about that.

Well I do! What about me?

What rhymes with hurt?

Quirck? Dirt? Spurt! That's it.

Not the deepest wounds could hurt,

though from them
life's blood did spurt.

You'll tell him for me,
won't you, John?

What?
-That this isn't my fault?

Tell me what you...

Look at this, Bernard!

It's an antique, they call it a book.

No. It's Shakespeare.

Looks like a book to me.

Your Fordship,
I can explain everything.

It was a mistake, we didn't mean it.

I did! I meant to do what
I did and I'm not sorry.

Well, I want Your Fordship
to know that I'm sorry.

I'm deeply, deeply sorry for
everything that I've done wrong,

Yes, yes, Mr. Marx.

And what about you, Mr. Savage?

Any apologies from you?

No.

Apparently you don't like our
civilization at all, do you?

No.

Then you find nothing in our way of
life to your liking. Nothing at all?

The music. That sometimes is pleasant.

Oh, yes.
If music be the food of love...

Well, enough of that.

You've read Shakespeare?

Oh yes, and others.

Music hath charms to
soothe the savage beast.

You see, Mr. Savage. My special
conditioning has allowed for all this.

Even though it's prohibited
to everyone else,

for those of us who must ultimately
guide others to what is right,

it is imperative to understand
the lure of what is wrong.

And of course it is a lure, isn't it?

Yes!
-No! No! I hated every moment of it.

Well,

whatever the motivations,
your actions have caused problems.

Definite problems.

But then there's a quite
simple way of removing them.

What is that?

By removing both of you, of course.

Oh, no.

You will have to be removed
to some other place,

so the possibility of contamination
will be removed with you.

You mean you're going to send us
away to a free island, like Iceland?

I don't deserve a faith like that,
Your Fordship.

No, no, Mr. Marx, nothing like that.

You and Mr. Watson will be allowed
to choose among any of the islands.

Tahiti, Jamaica, Hawaii and,
of course, you will be

allowed absolute and complete
freedom to do anything you want,

read anything you want,
even think anything you want.

That's wonderful!

That's perfect! That's all I've want
to be free to write anything I want

and not just Jingles,
but something more, something...

different.

But not somewhere like Tahiti.

No, that would be too easy, too
pleasant. Too much like the life here.

Isn't there somewhere else that's
harsher, colder, less perfect?

Oh yes, there's a free free island
to meet every dissonant taste.

Lapland, Greenland,
Antartica, the Falklands.

Of course,
we don't have many calls for those

and life on them can be
a bit bleak and lonely.

Wonderful! That's perfect!
That's exactly what I want.

Something cold and harsh, and bleak.

Then I know I'll be able to
write something different.

I'm ready to go. The sooner the better.

Well fine, fine. You can arrange everything
with the Extended Vacation Bureau,

just tell my assistent, Maoina Krupps.

Thank you, Your Fordship.

John...

But we'll talk before I go.

May I read your poetry?

Yes! Thank you! Wonderful!

Bernard, coming?

Have you gone insane!?

I can't go somewhere like
Lapland or Antartica!

I don't have to go someplace like that,
do I, Your Fordship?

No, no of course not, Mr. Marx.

I think you'd much prefer
somewhere like Tahiti.

Tahiti?

Yes, a pleasant climate, no work
and charmingly pneumatic females.

Females?
-Yes, as many or as few as you desire but,

study the brochures Mr Marx, I'm sure
you'll find the right thing just for you.

John, uh, I'm off to Tahiti and, uh,

I just want to say that
I wish all the best.

Thank you.

I hope you find what you want.

Tahiti.

Charmingly pneumatic females.

Do anything you want.

Read anything you want.
Think anything you want.

What about me?

Yes, what about you, Mr. Savage?

You pose a much more difficult problem.

Unfortunately,
your dissidence is so ingrained,

so much a part of you,

that it might even be dangerous to
send you to the Free Free Islands.

And, of course, it would be
impossible now to send you back

to the primitive Reservation after
your exposure to civilization.

And, on the other hand,
you have made it quite clear that

you can't be allowed to openly wander
about this part of our society.

I don't want to be a part of
your society. I want to be alone.

I think it best,
to find some isolated place where I can

completely and totally by myself.

Yes, that may just be the answer.

Thank you.

And for your sake, I hope it is.

Yes, we'll try it for a while,
Mr. Savage.

I'll make all the arrangements for you.

John! John!

Go away, please, go away!

I'm sorry,
no-one can look at the Savage today!

But I have to see John the Savage,
I know him!

No visitors today, you'll have to leave.
Move along!

But-

You'll have to leave with the others.
Move along!

Good morning, Mr. Savage.

I took advantage of my position to
let myself in. I hope you don't mind.

No.

If you'd like to join me,
I think I've enough for two.

Enough of what, exactly?

It's going to be stew.
Potatoes, carrots, onions,

fresh fishheads.

Oh no, thank you. I had some imitation
scrambled cholesterol before I left.

But you go right ahead.

Interesting, you've grown your own food,
built furniture,

woven colth for yourself.

So, now you're Robinson Crusoe
and this is your very own Walden.

I'm sorry?
-I am sorry!

I was referring to some other books
that you, perhaps, haven't read.

But then I'm sure the same ideas
can be found in Shakespeare.

Someone cast on an island who builds
a dwelling for himself to live in.

Be not afraid,
the Isle is full of noises,

sounds and sweet airs that
give delight and hurt not.

Ah yes, the native Caliban from
your Mr. Shakespeare's The Tempest.

And, uh, is that what you are now,
Mr. Savage?

Not afraid? At peace with yourself?

And if so, why do you have this?

To drive evil spirits out of your body,
I suppose?

I don't believe in
evil spirits anymore.

I'm not even sure I believe in the
good ones. I wish I could, but I can't.

So we've taken that away from you too.
I'm sorry.

But if you don't believe in evil spirits
anymore, why do you whip yourself?

I still believe in my spirit.

And the desires within
me which are evil.

But my dear Mr. Savage!

With a Violence-Passion Surrogate
treatment, you achieve the same end

but without any of the
unpleasantness and inconvenience.

No need for hair shirts and whips.
Just the proper button to push,

in complete comfort.

I don't want comfort.

Then what do you want?

Unpleasantness? Suffering? Pain?

Yes, I want it all.
All of the things you've done away with.

I want danger, I want poetry,
I want goodness,

I want sin, I want freedom.

Put more directly,
what you are saying is that

you are claiming the
right to be unhappy.

Allright then,
I claim the right to be unhappy.

But that also means
the right to be sick,

to be crippled, to be insane,

the right to grow old and ugly,
and wrinkled.

The right to protect
yourself from violence.

The right to kill or be killed.

The right to have too little to eat.

And the right to hope, to love.

Yes, even the right to fall in love.

And then be spurred, betrayed,
left raft with pain and jealousy,

is all of that really what you want,
Mr. Savage?

That's exactly what I want.

I claim all of it!

You're welcome.

Right, right!
Now there's the angle I want!

Right through there!

Now, remember! I want the Feelie-camera
following him at all times.

Now D.B?

No, no, no. Wait 'till the Savage
comes outside, I'll tell you when.

I'm sorry! Visitors are not
allowed here any longer.

Who's in charge here?

I am, officer!

The name is Darwin Bonaparte,
and I happen to be Feelie-film director.

And this is Darwin Bonaparte
Feelie-Film conceived,

produced and, of course,
authored by Darwin Bonaparte.

Who gave you permission to do this?

The Western World Controller,
His Fordship Mustapha Mond.

Oh! That's different!

I'm afraid you're in the way there,
if you don't mind,

I don't like this action
when I'm creating.

There he is!

Cameras!

Ready when you are D.B!

You see how I've caught the artistic
essence of the Savage, Your Fordship.

A lone outcast, surrounded by
the uncivilized forces of nature.

Yes, I do see.

It's quite beautiful.

Alluring, in fact.

But I assume you wouldn't
want it to be too-

Too persuasive?
-Right, exactly what I thought too.

Of course, this is just a rough cut.

Naturally I plan to get rid
of all the alluring parts,

you'll see, once it's edited,
speeding up,

slowing down, changing words.
So that the Savage will be a charming,

comic figure.

Charming? I thought you
meant to say something else.

Pathetic?

P-Primitive?

R-Ridiculous? Ridiculous!

Yes, that's exactly the
word I was looking for.

When I finish, the Savage
will be completely ridiculous.

The Sens-u-Feelie Corporations
presents a new Feelie-Film

by Darwin Bonaparte.

A farcical comedy produced and
authored by Darwin Bonaparte.

Simple Simon Savage.

Stop it!

Stop that!

Why are you laughing at him!?

That isn't the way he is!
He isn't like that!

Stop it!

I think we're going
to need more guards.

They're all bottled on their
holiday ration of Ampheta-pep.

If the Savage doesn't come out soon,
it could turn into a riot.

You better send for Soma gass.
You may need it.

Yes, Sir!

No, please!

Why don't you leave me alone!?

This is my home!

Stay away from me!

Leave me alone!

There he is!

Get away!

This is my home!

Get away! Now!

I understand!

I know what you meant, I felt it!

I own love, my heart proclaims.

Do you understand, John?

Bring up the Soma gass!

Lenina!

Whoever you're looking for,
sir, we must already have them.

I'm just trying to-

Perhaps she's over at
the Collection Station?

No, she's here.

She's waiting for me.

Breathe!

Happily breathe, Lenina.

Then no more shall I.

Eyes, look your last.

Take your last embrace.

And, lips, O you the doors of breath,
seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death.

Here's to my love.

Any termination casualties, sergeant?

No, sir. But there was one
case of a complete derangement,

a Beta, female, Lenina Disney.

And when we revived her,
she began talking very strangely.

We couldn't make out all the words.
Except-

Except for some very vulgar ones.

Yes?

Love, marriage.

And some even filthier than that!

She kept pleading to be left here.

Of course we re-Somatized
her immediately!

See that's she's taken to the
nearest Moral Reconditioning Centre.

Obviously, a case of acute Sexomania.

But a few days of Syntho-therapy

and she'll be quite
normal and happy again.

Yes, sir!

Mr. Savage?

Mr. Savage?

Is it finished?

Yes all records of the experiment
have been Computo-shredded

and completely Electro-erased.

Of course, he posed great problems.

People wondering how he
could do without Soma.

Why he lived alone.

How? Why? How? Why?

But still I wonder.

Was there another way, Maoina?

For the Savage? What?

I don't know.

Well, you tried to civilize him,

to teach him.

Yes, like Caliban, the blade take
you Prospero for teaching me.

Caliban?

A different savage, also a magician.

Whom an ancient kind of controller
named Prospero, tried to civilize.

Just a story.

I don't understand.

No, but John did.

Will there be anything more,
Your Fordship?

No, nothing more at all.

The cloud capped towers,
the gorgeous palaces,

the solemn temples,
the great globe itself shall dissolve

and like insubstantial pageant faded,

leave not a rack behind,

we are such stuff dreams are made on

and our little life is
rounded with a sleep.

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