October 11, 2025 • 28 mins
A surreal sci-fi series exploring speculative concepts, dreams, and philosophical what-ifs. Each episode is a cerebral journey into the mind’s deepest questions.
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Speaker 1 (00:12):
Mind Web.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
Welcome to a half hour of mind webs short stories
from the world's speculative fiction. This is Michael Hanson with
(00:54):
a mind Web story from the collection edited by Harlan
Ellison again Dangerous Visions, Volume III. This is titled Moth
Race by Richard Hill. Most of them came early, flowing
smoothly into the stadium and finding their seats as if
by some miracle, and then blinking at each other as
(01:17):
they thought, I'm really here at last, and it's so easy.
It was unheard of to set in the direct sunlight
this way, and they marveled at the look, feel and
smell of perspiration on themselves. There was no weather control here,
and some of them were actually uncomfortable for the first
time in their lives. Of course, they had all experienced
some of the heat and smell and crowd noise through
(01:39):
the medium in the past years, but it was not
the same as being here. Although the race would not
begin for an hour or more, the stadium was nearly full.
John van Dorn had ridden the pet walk from the
transporter platform outside almost directly to his seat. He wasn't
certain just how he had managed it, and was still
(02:00):
amazed at his accomplishment. The few people he knew who
had been outside Johannesburg had told him how easy it was,
and now he had to admit they were right. Johannesburg
to Chicago in thirty minutes. A ticket to the race
was the only way a man like John could travel, unless,
of course, he won the race, and only one man
(02:21):
had ever done that. More people together than he had
ever seen before, and John felt the excitement they generated,
at once stimulated and disturbed by it. He saw medium
cameras perched around the stadium ring and around the track below,
and he knew that dwellings all over the world were
full of the re created sensations of the stadium. Even
(02:42):
those who could not go, he knew, were sinked in
hours before the race waiting.
Speaker 3 (02:48):
Those who had been.
Speaker 2 (02:49):
Before knew they could never go again. Those who hadn't
hoped for a ticket next year and wondered what they
could do to improve their chances. Only they the government
understood why some got tickets and others didn't. This year
there had been a ticket for John. You did not
(03:10):
know why. It was the one day of the year
that nobody used easy pills. John Love unaccustomed wildness covered
his blood. Probably they knew this would not work as
well if you used easy vittings, but because nobody used them,
(03:30):
there was anxiety. The dwellings, where screens glowed and people sat,
and in the stadium itself were the lucky ones get
There were even a few fights, impossible any other day
of the year. They were brief, chiefly because the men
fighting were not used to it. They were frightened by
their own bunds. John saw one such fights and one
(03:50):
man's nose began to believe both men who stopped and
stared at each other in surprise for a moment, and
sat down. There was also the wine, something you could
get only in the stadium, and everyone took advantage of
the chance to drink it synthetic. Of course, only the champion,
as far as John knew, got to drink real wine.
(04:11):
It came from dispenser's at the end of each row,
and people passed it down to others with comrade lee cheer.
John raised his pouch and shot a string the delicious
red stuff into his mouth. He was at the end
of the row, next to the dispenser and had only
to reach for more. He was also almost directly below
the dignitary's box, and would be able to see what
went on there. He filled his mouth again and thought
(04:33):
as he slowly swallowed, about those outside watching him drink
and wondering how taste it, or watching him and knowing
they who'd never tasted again. He didn't know why, but
the taste in the fact of the wine was never
broadcast over the medium. John turned and looked at the
dignitary's box and saw the champion. He must have just come,
(04:57):
And as the murmur of acknowledgment passed through the crowd,
h thought, how close he is. I could walk five
feet and touch him. Gray haired, an imposing, lined face.
The champion looked fixedly at the track, ignoring the chatter
of the unknown dignitary seated around him. Some complained he
(05:17):
was an unsatisfactory champion, too quiet or egotistical, and reluctant
to talk about himself after all, they argued, was it
not part of the champion's duties to share his experiences
with others? At least that was the theory, But since
there had never been another champion, comparisons were impossible. John
(05:39):
could remember when there was no champion at all, and
very dimly the times before the races. The race had
been held for five years before there was a champion,
and people whispered that they were thinking of stopping them
because it appeared no one could win. Then the champion
came and the roomers stopped. Like everyone else in the world,
(06:01):
John had followed him on the medium for seven years now.
They had watched him hunt lions, fish for marlin, climb
mountains all and off limits areas were none of them
to go. They had shared his romance, and Rita Landers
the medium star and the only one in the world
his fame approached his. Of course, there were government officials,
some of them in the Dignitary's box with him now,
(06:22):
but nobody knew or cared about then. They were not
the real government anyway, only its physical representatives, or so,
at least John suspected, though he never spoke of it
with anyone. He had once seen the champion on an
iceberg and thought the government must be like that, mostly
out of sight and different from what it appeared. There
(06:44):
was a rumor that Rita Landers every Man's idea of
perfect beauty was the result of an experiment in genetics
which they had abandoned after creating her. Since they had her,
the rumor went, they decided to make her the only
medium star, a receptacle of men's desires. It was shortly
after her rise to Feign that the Champion won. The
(07:07):
people had all seen the Champion make love to other women,
an endless string of them, chosen from all over the world.
They were not Rita Landers, but they were the best
that accidental breeding could produce, and the people had experienced,
as well as seen the champion's conquests through the medium.
They had sex themselves, but never with such variety, and
(07:28):
they had dined through him on food none of them
could ever have. They took their vitamin in which yeast
and algae pills, three times a day and waited to
experience his meals. Shiny red lobsters with plump white meat,
succulent roasts and steaks, chickens with shiny brown crusts from roasting,
and much more. All this was only part of the
(07:52):
winner's prize. It was one of the reasons men raced.
John would never race, although as a member of the
audience he was eligible. Possibly some of the men around
him would try. Lured by the possibility of a life
like the champions, some always did. A man beside John asked, Eh,
(08:16):
why what do you think about? What about the race?
Why do you think I'm talking about? His accent was
difficult to identify. There were still many dialects of English,
despite the influence of the medium remnants John Guest of
the days before language unification influence of the original tongue
in English. John hadn't heard many other dialects. He didn't
(08:37):
think of his own speech as dialect, and he told
the man, Yeah, of course, it's exciting at you a race, No, no,
not neon? And the list to be married? Yeah, who isn't?
But we got about as much chance of marrying as
we do of winning this race. The man jabbing in
the ribs as he laughed, and the local custom maybe,
(08:58):
but that was how flight started. I still have hope.
I want a child. That world has enough children, But
we could use another champion. Don't you like him?
Speaker 3 (09:12):
Sure?
Speaker 2 (09:13):
I admire him, but why can't he loosen that pal?
It's it's undemocratic. What's the champion for if not to
tell us what raid? The Landers and those others are like.
Speaker 3 (09:24):
Eh, but we all all had.
Speaker 2 (09:27):
It on the medium, John said, remembering how roused he
and Betty had been afterward. Okay, good, but not good enough.
Remember what he said afterward when reporters asked him, you
saw for yourselves.
Speaker 3 (09:42):
That isn't the arrogance for you.
Speaker 2 (09:43):
I want to hear him talk about it. He did
seem excited about that African girl, said John, remembering how
strangely the champion had behaved in that interview. She must
have been something sometimes you know, it doesn't come across
on the medium. Yeah, yeah, true love. And too bad
they wouldn't let him stay with her, poor man. But
(10:06):
how about the rest. Imagine having all that stuff and
being moved from one to another and having nothing more
to say than that. And he glanced almost fearfully at
the champion again. Besides, I don't like the idea of
him preferring that black. Did you take your pills today?
Speaker 3 (10:25):
Ah?
Speaker 2 (10:26):
Of course not, damn you, nobody does on a day.
He realized what John was asking him, and looking burst.
It was the first prejudice John had seen in years.
The easy pills usually took care of that. I wouldn't
be that way, said a voice to John's left. He
was younger than John, really, only a boy.
Speaker 3 (10:47):
I wouldn't be that way. I'd be a good champion.
Speaker 2 (10:50):
Ha.
Speaker 3 (10:51):
You wouldn't know what to do.
Speaker 2 (10:52):
It would raid the landers. The boy was on his feet.
Take that back, the man hesitated and dropped his eyes. Yes,
right now, Hell, you'll want race anyway, but I will,
said the boy, as if he had just made up
his mind. I'm going now. The boy began walking down
(11:12):
the ramp. John had an impulse to stop him, but didn't.
After all, without racers there could be no race. Perhaps
he wouldn't make it, after all, the champion had.
Speaker 3 (11:25):
Well, what do you think of that?
Speaker 2 (11:27):
He's really going to do it? John looked away and
did not answer. There were six racers on the track now,
one more than last year. Perhaps there would be others,
although it was where for others to volunteer after the
race had begun. A boy like this one who had
just gone down, might have been expected to live another
eighty or ninety years before he failed. As physical he
(11:50):
would never be ill, never hungry, never anxious, neither too
hot nor too cold, never without a sexual partner. If
he wanted to a child, he could get on the
list like everyone else, And maybe before he was too old,
he could get permission to have one. If he were exceptional,
he might even go to college and do something really important,
(12:11):
like work in the undersea food farms or in a
moon lab. He might be selected for one of the
colonies or joined the government. If his tests indicated such
an aptitude, then he could have a travel permit, at
least on a need basis, and wouldn't have to wait
like the shop people for the race and hope for
a ticket just to leave his city. Yet he and
(12:34):
others did it. They risked everything just to be heroes.
It being a hero was all he wanted. That was
the way, even those were lost. The race became famous,
and their pictures all over the world for a year,
But it had never made sense to John. He had
his moments of foolishness when it occurred to him, But
(12:54):
then he would think of Betty's warmth and softness and smile.
Why should he risk using that? Or he would think
again of how hopeless it was to win, But the
race was rigged and the thought would frightening him. There
was something about the spectacle that disturbed him, though he
would never admitted to. When the sixth Borow presented their
(13:16):
info cassettes to the recorder so that everything about them
could be adjusted before the race. They waited as the
computer worked. He saw the boy move the street nervously.
Once the computer had your casset, you had to go.
The cars were lined up at the starting gate. They
seemed smaller than in years past when he'd seen them
(13:38):
on the medium. They were bright colored aluminum machines with
room for only the driver. The gates were buried in
the track, now apparently under the control of the track computer.
John realized with surprise that he was already sunburned and
wine was working on him. He looked around the crowd,
noticing that the noise level had risen, and that the others, too,
(13:59):
were a fad. It was a strange feeling, something like
power and something like courage, so those words were just
beginning to have meaning. The track was clear now, and
the crane stood ominously in the infield. The sight of
it sobered John somewhat. Ladies and gentlemen, the race will
(14:21):
begin in five minutes. The announcer's voice surprised him. He
hadn't realized race time was so close. Tension was heavy
in the air, and the crowd noise suddenly hushed. The
language of the program was simple, low key, nothing to
detract from the serious purpose.
Speaker 1 (14:38):
Of the day.
Speaker 2 (14:39):
They would never have allowed this, John thought vaguely if
it were not serious and important. He didn't know where
the idea had come from, though there had been rumors
about that too. One was that the social engineers, or
whoever controlled them, were worried about the easy pitons. They
were not sure that undesirable behavior were not somehow come
(15:00):
to the surface despite the easy gifts, nor were they
certain that everyone could be trusted to take them. Strict
enforcement was possible, but not dishonorable. They wanted some way
to release the tension that bills merely covered up. Someone
had come up with the race. The events here today
are serious and of great magnitude for the world. We
(15:24):
have gathered to admire the courage of those who race
today and to praise once again our great champion. The
crowd was immediately on its feet, despite the earlier grumbling,
applauding wildly. As the grizzled champion stood, all the wine
reddened and sunburnt faces grinned, and there was even more noise.
(15:46):
Wine skins popped to the floor. The other dignitaries with
the champion were clapping and trying to shake his hand,
trying to draw some of the glory to themselves. John
realized that Rita Landers had arrived and was now standing
beside the champion, as though true to an ancient ritual,
she had arrived at the last minute, Champ. The crowd
(16:07):
screamed Rita, champ Rida, champ Rita, and John was caught
up in their emotion. Surely there had never been two
more desirable and admirable people, he thought, and his eyes
were wet with curious pride. Yet somehow the champion seemed
untouched by the crowd. Almost sad and bored, John chanted
(16:31):
ladders though I would break the champion in his dark mood,
and the tears streamed down his sun reddened cheeks. He
yelled until he grew dizzy and had to sit down. Finally,
the crowd's noise began to subside, but not completely. There
was now that frenzied undertone he remembered hearing from the
medium at other races. This was what they had come for.
(16:54):
The announcer knew it and moved them expertly before they
could begin their chant again. Our first racer Isadakichi Muramoto
from Tokyo. He is twenty five years old and works
in Shop thirteen. The announcer went on using the computer
organized biography. By the time he had finished, John felt
(17:16):
he knew the man from Tokyo. No felt that he
was the man from Tokyo. Then it was time for
the first race. Sadakichi climbed into his car, a red one,
and was pushed the few feet to the starting line.
An official stood by the button with his hand raised.
There was, as everyone knew, no controlling the speed. It
(17:39):
was sixty miles an hour, calculated to around the track
in two minutes. If the driver could avoid the gates,
the gates would rise, as the computer determined at various
places along the five lanes. At that speed was unrealistic
to try to avoid them. Indeed, by the time the
car reached one, it might well have snapped back to
(18:00):
the track. It was all simply a matter of chance.
There was no controlling one's fate on the track. Yet
almost every driver tried yourromotto got almost a mile, weaving
from lane to lane before a gate rose in front
of him, and swerved to avoid it and ran into
another which had risen where a moment before no gate
(18:21):
had been. The gate he had swerved to avoid was
already back in place by the time his car impacted.
The car crumpled as it was designed to do, like
an accordion, breathed the crowd as one, and then individual
shouts of oh, and he's hid it all around him.
(18:45):
People were crying. John felt tears again in his own eyes.
It was difficult to remember from year to year what
it was like. The easy pills probably prevented that. But
this was it all night, and much stronger than what
you got through the medium. His head drobbed with the
(19:05):
wine as he let his emotions be purged with the others.
He was such a promising young man, but why couldn't
he make it? She was comfortable by a man said
next to her, who said, sadly, it's all right, you know.
They they have to try. But you can't beat the gates.
(19:28):
She said, and the man said, without much conviction, Well
the champion did. The crane moved slowly to the place
on the track where the car had struck, and lifted it.
The gate snapped back into place unharmed, and the crane deposited,
(19:49):
crumpled car and driver into a vehicle waiting on the enfield.
There would be a collected burial drivers in their cars
after the race. Our next racer is a man from
and so it continued. John knew why it was better
(20:09):
to be here at the stadium than to experience it
at home. The crowd was his one, sharing its collective
sorrow and strength. There was no more hatred, no more separation.
After the third racer, a woman named Gonzuela from Buenos Aires,
who barely got away from the starting line before a
gate crushed her like a moth against a moving transport window,
(20:33):
he saw the man who had shown bigotry earlier walk
down three rows to put his hand on a weeping
black woman's shoulder. Everyone was crying now, everyone except the champion.
John saw him above, sitting impassively while Rita wept on
his shoulder. The boy was last. They saw him hesitate,
(20:57):
then climb into a yellow car. The officials hand came
down and he was off, attaining top speed almost immediately.
He too, chose to dodge from lane to lane. The
second hand moved on the stadium clock as he got
farther around the track. You were from Jacksonville, John thought,
(21:17):
as the tiny car moved. You work in Chop thirty six.
Your name is Henry Matthews. All of that must count.
Make it count. Then a gate caught the boy too.
You can't beat the gates. It was the last race.
(21:38):
So the crowd released its pity and relaxed its fear
for all the racers. The stadium was filled with it.
The race was over now, and they mourned their heroes well.
But in the process they compared themselves to carry on.
We did not race. They thought we must go on living.
(22:02):
They felt a load had been lifted from them. They
felt almost light hearted. But suddenly there was a commotion.
People turned to look. It was the wrong time for
a disturbance, and they resented it. Then someone said the champion.
John too looked behind and saw the champion standing. His
(22:24):
expression had not changed. He still looked bored. The champion
dead beat the gates. They remembered together. Was he going
to speak? John wondered. He had never spoken voluntarily before.
John stood and turned around to see better. Then he
noticed Rita pulling on the champion's arm. She was screaming no, No.
(22:49):
Dignitaries tried to hold the champion back and were shrugged off.
The champion began to walk down the ramp. John still
did not understand until someone screamed, He's going away. Pe Yes,
he thought, as he watched the champion come down the
ramp toward him. It could only mean that. But why,
John wondered, and heard voices in the crowd echo his question.
(23:13):
The champion had everything in the world he could want.
He had travel and women, and food, and adventure and fame.
He had earned it already and did not have to
earn it again. The champion looked at some of the
crowd as he passed. John was one of those whose
eyes met his for long minutes, it seemed, and he
felt drowned in sadness. He felt the champion was trying
(23:36):
to tell him something. Was that it could the champion
be tired of his life? Was there something about it?
None of them knew something to confirm John's nagging doubts
that could make him do this. The wine had his
head so hot, so confused. It was a terrifying idea,
and John fought to put it from his mind. Surely
(23:58):
that wasn't what the champion had tried to tell him,
but the way he had looked at him. Then the
champion was walking on to the field. He spoke briefly
with the announcer, who appeared not to know what to do.
The announcer disappeared for a few minutes, and then reappeared
at the microphone. The Champion will defend his title. A
(24:24):
silver gray car the color of the Champion's hair, was
rolled under the track. With no hesitation. He climbed in
and allowed it to be pushed to the line. The
crowd was becoming hysterical.
Speaker 3 (24:37):
No, don't let him, John heard.
Speaker 2 (24:40):
And turned to see Rita struggling with two of the dignitaries.
Speaker 3 (24:43):
But the crowd picked it up.
Speaker 2 (24:45):
Don't let him, don't let him. They began to chance.
Speaker 3 (24:49):
Don't let him.
Speaker 2 (24:51):
John chanted with them, but when he looked back, the
race had begun. The champion had won the first time
by driving straight now in the center lane. He knew
the odds and didn't try to odd maneuver the gates.
Others had tried his system without success, but there was
no doubt it had worked for him, and he was
using it again this time. Already he was beginning the
(25:14):
second mile and still moving. Did he have some special charm?
The champion made it with the luck that brought him
through the first time, bring him through again. Then suddenly
the Champion was gone and unseen but felt red explosion
inside a silver, gray lump of aluminum. The crane did
(25:38):
not move, as though it could not believe its next task.
There was a deep and long silence. Then there was
a growing noise in the stadium. John realized part of
it was coming from him. At first it was inarticulate,
like the cries of animals. Then it found words. He's gone.
(26:06):
Someone screamed, there's no more champion. We've lost him. The
Champion didn't make it. A pounding grew in John's head
and became a refrain with which he led the crowd.
We need a champion, We need a champion. He did
(26:31):
not know its origin, not even really its meaning, but
it was there, throbbing in his head, overwhelming him completely.
It had now been communicated to the others, and the
whole stadium shook with the sound. We need a champion,
We need a champion, We need the champion. Then suddenly
(26:57):
it was I will be the champ. I will be
the champion. I will be the champion. And then John
was running down the ramp toward the track, waving his
arms and shouting I will, I will, I will, and
(27:22):
behind him came others. The story you've heard this time
was Morthwrace.
Speaker 3 (27:39):
Written by Richard Hill. It appears in.
Speaker 2 (27:42):
The collection again Dangerous Visions, Volume two, edited by Harlan Ellison.
I'm Michael Hanson. Technical operation for this program by Marsha Phillips.
Mind Webbs comes to you from WHA Radio and Madison,
a service of University of Wisconsin Extension. Yeah.
Mind Web.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
Welcome to a half hour of mind webs short stories
from the world's speculative fiction. This is Michael Hanson with
(00:54):
a mind Web story from the collection edited by Harlan
Ellison again Dangerous Visions, Volume III. This is titled Moth
Race by Richard Hill. Most of them came early, flowing
smoothly into the stadium and finding their seats as if
by some miracle, and then blinking at each other as
(01:17):
they thought, I'm really here at last, and it's so easy.
It was unheard of to set in the direct sunlight
this way, and they marveled at the look, feel and
smell of perspiration on themselves. There was no weather control here,
and some of them were actually uncomfortable for the first
time in their lives. Of course, they had all experienced
some of the heat and smell and crowd noise through
(01:39):
the medium in the past years, but it was not
the same as being here. Although the race would not
begin for an hour or more, the stadium was nearly full.
John van Dorn had ridden the pet walk from the
transporter platform outside almost directly to his seat. He wasn't
certain just how he had managed it, and was still
(02:00):
amazed at his accomplishment. The few people he knew who
had been outside Johannesburg had told him how easy it was,
and now he had to admit they were right. Johannesburg
to Chicago in thirty minutes. A ticket to the race
was the only way a man like John could travel, unless,
of course, he won the race, and only one man
(02:21):
had ever done that. More people together than he had
ever seen before, and John felt the excitement they generated,
at once stimulated and disturbed by it. He saw medium
cameras perched around the stadium ring and around the track below,
and he knew that dwellings all over the world were
full of the re created sensations of the stadium. Even
(02:42):
those who could not go, he knew, were sinked in
hours before the race waiting.
Speaker 3 (02:48):
Those who had been.
Speaker 2 (02:49):
Before knew they could never go again. Those who hadn't
hoped for a ticket next year and wondered what they
could do to improve their chances. Only they the government
understood why some got tickets and others didn't. This year
there had been a ticket for John. You did not
(03:10):
know why. It was the one day of the year
that nobody used easy pills. John Love unaccustomed wildness covered
his blood. Probably they knew this would not work as
well if you used easy vittings, but because nobody used them,
(03:30):
there was anxiety. The dwellings, where screens glowed and people sat,
and in the stadium itself were the lucky ones get
There were even a few fights, impossible any other day
of the year. They were brief, chiefly because the men
fighting were not used to it. They were frightened by
their own bunds. John saw one such fights and one
(03:50):
man's nose began to believe both men who stopped and
stared at each other in surprise for a moment, and
sat down. There was also the wine, something you could
get only in the stadium, and everyone took advantage of
the chance to drink it synthetic. Of course, only the champion,
as far as John knew, got to drink real wine.
(04:11):
It came from dispenser's at the end of each row,
and people passed it down to others with comrade lee cheer.
John raised his pouch and shot a string the delicious
red stuff into his mouth. He was at the end
of the row, next to the dispenser and had only
to reach for more. He was also almost directly below
the dignitary's box, and would be able to see what
went on there. He filled his mouth again and thought
(04:33):
as he slowly swallowed, about those outside watching him drink
and wondering how taste it, or watching him and knowing
they who'd never tasted again. He didn't know why, but
the taste in the fact of the wine was never
broadcast over the medium. John turned and looked at the
dignitary's box and saw the champion. He must have just come,
(04:57):
And as the murmur of acknowledgment passed through the crowd,
h thought, how close he is. I could walk five
feet and touch him. Gray haired, an imposing, lined face.
The champion looked fixedly at the track, ignoring the chatter
of the unknown dignitary seated around him. Some complained he
(05:17):
was an unsatisfactory champion, too quiet or egotistical, and reluctant
to talk about himself after all, they argued, was it
not part of the champion's duties to share his experiences
with others? At least that was the theory, But since
there had never been another champion, comparisons were impossible. John
(05:39):
could remember when there was no champion at all, and
very dimly the times before the races. The race had
been held for five years before there was a champion,
and people whispered that they were thinking of stopping them
because it appeared no one could win. Then the champion
came and the roomers stopped. Like everyone else in the world,
(06:01):
John had followed him on the medium for seven years now.
They had watched him hunt lions, fish for marlin, climb
mountains all and off limits areas were none of them
to go. They had shared his romance, and Rita Landers
the medium star and the only one in the world
his fame approached his. Of course, there were government officials,
some of them in the Dignitary's box with him now,
(06:22):
but nobody knew or cared about then. They were not
the real government anyway, only its physical representatives, or so,
at least John suspected, though he never spoke of it
with anyone. He had once seen the champion on an
iceberg and thought the government must be like that, mostly
out of sight and different from what it appeared. There
(06:44):
was a rumor that Rita Landers every Man's idea of
perfect beauty was the result of an experiment in genetics
which they had abandoned after creating her. Since they had her,
the rumor went, they decided to make her the only
medium star, a receptacle of men's desires. It was shortly
after her rise to Feign that the Champion won. The
(07:07):
people had all seen the Champion make love to other women,
an endless string of them, chosen from all over the world.
They were not Rita Landers, but they were the best
that accidental breeding could produce, and the people had experienced,
as well as seen the champion's conquests through the medium.
They had sex themselves, but never with such variety, and
(07:28):
they had dined through him on food none of them
could ever have. They took their vitamin in which yeast
and algae pills, three times a day and waited to
experience his meals. Shiny red lobsters with plump white meat,
succulent roasts and steaks, chickens with shiny brown crusts from roasting,
and much more. All this was only part of the
(07:52):
winner's prize. It was one of the reasons men raced.
John would never race, although as a member of the
audience he was eligible. Possibly some of the men around
him would try. Lured by the possibility of a life
like the champions, some always did. A man beside John asked, Eh,
(08:16):
why what do you think about? What about the race?
Why do you think I'm talking about? His accent was
difficult to identify. There were still many dialects of English,
despite the influence of the medium remnants John Guest of
the days before language unification influence of the original tongue
in English. John hadn't heard many other dialects. He didn't
(08:37):
think of his own speech as dialect, and he told
the man, Yeah, of course, it's exciting at you a race, No, no,
not neon? And the list to be married? Yeah, who isn't?
But we got about as much chance of marrying as
we do of winning this race. The man jabbing in
the ribs as he laughed, and the local custom maybe,
(08:58):
but that was how flight started. I still have hope.
I want a child. That world has enough children, But
we could use another champion. Don't you like him?
Speaker 3 (09:12):
Sure?
Speaker 2 (09:13):
I admire him, but why can't he loosen that pal?
It's it's undemocratic. What's the champion for if not to
tell us what raid? The Landers and those others are like.
Speaker 3 (09:24):
Eh, but we all all had.
Speaker 2 (09:27):
It on the medium, John said, remembering how roused he
and Betty had been afterward. Okay, good, but not good enough.
Remember what he said afterward when reporters asked him, you
saw for yourselves.
Speaker 3 (09:42):
That isn't the arrogance for you.
Speaker 2 (09:43):
I want to hear him talk about it. He did
seem excited about that African girl, said John, remembering how
strangely the champion had behaved in that interview. She must
have been something sometimes you know, it doesn't come across
on the medium. Yeah, yeah, true love. And too bad
they wouldn't let him stay with her, poor man. But
(10:06):
how about the rest. Imagine having all that stuff and
being moved from one to another and having nothing more
to say than that. And he glanced almost fearfully at
the champion again. Besides, I don't like the idea of
him preferring that black. Did you take your pills today?
Speaker 3 (10:25):
Ah?
Speaker 2 (10:26):
Of course not, damn you, nobody does on a day.
He realized what John was asking him, and looking burst.
It was the first prejudice John had seen in years.
The easy pills usually took care of that. I wouldn't
be that way, said a voice to John's left. He
was younger than John, really, only a boy.
Speaker 3 (10:47):
I wouldn't be that way. I'd be a good champion.
Speaker 2 (10:50):
Ha.
Speaker 3 (10:51):
You wouldn't know what to do.
Speaker 2 (10:52):
It would raid the landers. The boy was on his feet.
Take that back, the man hesitated and dropped his eyes. Yes,
right now, Hell, you'll want race anyway, but I will,
said the boy, as if he had just made up
his mind. I'm going now. The boy began walking down
(11:12):
the ramp. John had an impulse to stop him, but didn't.
After all, without racers there could be no race. Perhaps
he wouldn't make it, after all, the champion had.
Speaker 3 (11:25):
Well, what do you think of that?
Speaker 2 (11:27):
He's really going to do it? John looked away and
did not answer. There were six racers on the track now,
one more than last year. Perhaps there would be others,
although it was where for others to volunteer after the
race had begun. A boy like this one who had
just gone down, might have been expected to live another
eighty or ninety years before he failed. As physical he
(11:50):
would never be ill, never hungry, never anxious, neither too
hot nor too cold, never without a sexual partner. If
he wanted to a child, he could get on the
list like everyone else, And maybe before he was too old,
he could get permission to have one. If he were exceptional,
he might even go to college and do something really important,
(12:11):
like work in the undersea food farms or in a
moon lab. He might be selected for one of the
colonies or joined the government. If his tests indicated such
an aptitude, then he could have a travel permit, at
least on a need basis, and wouldn't have to wait
like the shop people for the race and hope for
a ticket just to leave his city. Yet he and
(12:34):
others did it. They risked everything just to be heroes.
It being a hero was all he wanted. That was
the way, even those were lost. The race became famous,
and their pictures all over the world for a year,
But it had never made sense to John. He had
his moments of foolishness when it occurred to him, But
(12:54):
then he would think of Betty's warmth and softness and smile.
Why should he risk using that? Or he would think
again of how hopeless it was to win, But the
race was rigged and the thought would frightening him. There
was something about the spectacle that disturbed him, though he
would never admitted to. When the sixth Borow presented their
(13:16):
info cassettes to the recorder so that everything about them
could be adjusted before the race. They waited as the
computer worked. He saw the boy move the street nervously.
Once the computer had your casset, you had to go.
The cars were lined up at the starting gate. They
seemed smaller than in years past when he'd seen them
(13:38):
on the medium. They were bright colored aluminum machines with
room for only the driver. The gates were buried in
the track, now apparently under the control of the track computer.
John realized with surprise that he was already sunburned and
wine was working on him. He looked around the crowd,
noticing that the noise level had risen, and that the others, too,
(13:59):
were a fad. It was a strange feeling, something like
power and something like courage, so those words were just
beginning to have meaning. The track was clear now, and
the crane stood ominously in the infield. The sight of
it sobered John somewhat. Ladies and gentlemen, the race will
(14:21):
begin in five minutes. The announcer's voice surprised him. He
hadn't realized race time was so close. Tension was heavy
in the air, and the crowd noise suddenly hushed. The
language of the program was simple, low key, nothing to
detract from the serious purpose.
Speaker 1 (14:38):
Of the day.
Speaker 2 (14:39):
They would never have allowed this, John thought vaguely if
it were not serious and important. He didn't know where
the idea had come from, though there had been rumors
about that too. One was that the social engineers, or
whoever controlled them, were worried about the easy pitons. They
were not sure that undesirable behavior were not somehow come
(15:00):
to the surface despite the easy gifts, nor were they
certain that everyone could be trusted to take them. Strict
enforcement was possible, but not dishonorable. They wanted some way
to release the tension that bills merely covered up. Someone
had come up with the race. The events here today
are serious and of great magnitude for the world. We
(15:24):
have gathered to admire the courage of those who race
today and to praise once again our great champion. The
crowd was immediately on its feet, despite the earlier grumbling,
applauding wildly. As the grizzled champion stood, all the wine
reddened and sunburnt faces grinned, and there was even more noise.
(15:46):
Wine skins popped to the floor. The other dignitaries with
the champion were clapping and trying to shake his hand,
trying to draw some of the glory to themselves. John
realized that Rita Landers had arrived and was now standing
beside the champion, as though true to an ancient ritual,
she had arrived at the last minute, Champ. The crowd
(16:07):
screamed Rita, champ Rida, champ Rita, and John was caught
up in their emotion. Surely there had never been two
more desirable and admirable people, he thought, and his eyes
were wet with curious pride. Yet somehow the champion seemed
untouched by the crowd. Almost sad and bored, John chanted
(16:31):
ladders though I would break the champion in his dark mood,
and the tears streamed down his sun reddened cheeks. He
yelled until he grew dizzy and had to sit down. Finally,
the crowd's noise began to subside, but not completely. There
was now that frenzied undertone he remembered hearing from the
medium at other races. This was what they had come for.
(16:54):
The announcer knew it and moved them expertly before they
could begin their chant again. Our first racer Isadakichi Muramoto
from Tokyo. He is twenty five years old and works
in Shop thirteen. The announcer went on using the computer
organized biography. By the time he had finished, John felt
(17:16):
he knew the man from Tokyo. No felt that he
was the man from Tokyo. Then it was time for
the first race. Sadakichi climbed into his car, a red one,
and was pushed the few feet to the starting line.
An official stood by the button with his hand raised.
There was, as everyone knew, no controlling the speed. It
(17:39):
was sixty miles an hour, calculated to around the track
in two minutes. If the driver could avoid the gates,
the gates would rise, as the computer determined at various
places along the five lanes. At that speed was unrealistic
to try to avoid them. Indeed, by the time the
car reached one, it might well have snapped back to
(18:00):
the track. It was all simply a matter of chance.
There was no controlling one's fate on the track. Yet
almost every driver tried yourromotto got almost a mile, weaving
from lane to lane before a gate rose in front
of him, and swerved to avoid it and ran into
another which had risen where a moment before no gate
(18:21):
had been. The gate he had swerved to avoid was
already back in place by the time his car impacted.
The car crumpled as it was designed to do, like
an accordion, breathed the crowd as one, and then individual
shouts of oh, and he's hid it all around him.
(18:45):
People were crying. John felt tears again in his own eyes.
It was difficult to remember from year to year what
it was like. The easy pills probably prevented that. But
this was it all night, and much stronger than what
you got through the medium. His head drobbed with the
(19:05):
wine as he let his emotions be purged with the others.
He was such a promising young man, but why couldn't
he make it? She was comfortable by a man said
next to her, who said, sadly, it's all right, you know.
They they have to try. But you can't beat the gates.
(19:28):
She said, and the man said, without much conviction, Well
the champion did. The crane moved slowly to the place
on the track where the car had struck, and lifted it.
The gate snapped back into place unharmed, and the crane deposited,
(19:49):
crumpled car and driver into a vehicle waiting on the enfield.
There would be a collected burial drivers in their cars
after the race. Our next racer is a man from
and so it continued. John knew why it was better
(20:09):
to be here at the stadium than to experience it
at home. The crowd was his one, sharing its collective
sorrow and strength. There was no more hatred, no more separation.
After the third racer, a woman named Gonzuela from Buenos Aires,
who barely got away from the starting line before a
gate crushed her like a moth against a moving transport window,
(20:33):
he saw the man who had shown bigotry earlier walk
down three rows to put his hand on a weeping
black woman's shoulder. Everyone was crying now, everyone except the champion.
John saw him above, sitting impassively while Rita wept on
his shoulder. The boy was last. They saw him hesitate,
(20:57):
then climb into a yellow car. The officials hand came
down and he was off, attaining top speed almost immediately.
He too, chose to dodge from lane to lane. The
second hand moved on the stadium clock as he got
farther around the track. You were from Jacksonville, John thought,
(21:17):
as the tiny car moved. You work in Chop thirty six.
Your name is Henry Matthews. All of that must count.
Make it count. Then a gate caught the boy too.
You can't beat the gates. It was the last race.
(21:38):
So the crowd released its pity and relaxed its fear
for all the racers. The stadium was filled with it.
The race was over now, and they mourned their heroes well.
But in the process they compared themselves to carry on.
We did not race. They thought we must go on living.
(22:02):
They felt a load had been lifted from them. They
felt almost light hearted. But suddenly there was a commotion.
People turned to look. It was the wrong time for
a disturbance, and they resented it. Then someone said the champion.
John too looked behind and saw the champion standing. His
(22:24):
expression had not changed. He still looked bored. The champion
dead beat the gates. They remembered together. Was he going
to speak? John wondered. He had never spoken voluntarily before.
John stood and turned around to see better. Then he
noticed Rita pulling on the champion's arm. She was screaming no, No.
(22:49):
Dignitaries tried to hold the champion back and were shrugged off.
The champion began to walk down the ramp. John still
did not understand until someone screamed, He's going away. Pe Yes,
he thought, as he watched the champion come down the
ramp toward him. It could only mean that. But why,
John wondered, and heard voices in the crowd echo his question.
(23:13):
The champion had everything in the world he could want.
He had travel and women, and food, and adventure and fame.
He had earned it already and did not have to
earn it again. The champion looked at some of the
crowd as he passed. John was one of those whose
eyes met his for long minutes, it seemed, and he
felt drowned in sadness. He felt the champion was trying
(23:36):
to tell him something. Was that it could the champion
be tired of his life? Was there something about it?
None of them knew something to confirm John's nagging doubts
that could make him do this. The wine had his
head so hot, so confused. It was a terrifying idea,
and John fought to put it from his mind. Surely
(23:58):
that wasn't what the champion had tried to tell him,
but the way he had looked at him. Then the
champion was walking on to the field. He spoke briefly
with the announcer, who appeared not to know what to do.
The announcer disappeared for a few minutes, and then reappeared
at the microphone. The Champion will defend his title. A
(24:24):
silver gray car the color of the Champion's hair, was
rolled under the track. With no hesitation. He climbed in
and allowed it to be pushed to the line. The
crowd was becoming hysterical.
Speaker 3 (24:37):
No, don't let him, John heard.
Speaker 2 (24:40):
And turned to see Rita struggling with two of the dignitaries.
Speaker 3 (24:43):
But the crowd picked it up.
Speaker 2 (24:45):
Don't let him, don't let him. They began to chance.
Speaker 3 (24:49):
Don't let him.
Speaker 2 (24:51):
John chanted with them, but when he looked back, the
race had begun. The champion had won the first time
by driving straight now in the center lane. He knew
the odds and didn't try to odd maneuver the gates.
Others had tried his system without success, but there was
no doubt it had worked for him, and he was
using it again this time. Already he was beginning the
(25:14):
second mile and still moving. Did he have some special charm?
The champion made it with the luck that brought him
through the first time, bring him through again. Then suddenly
the Champion was gone and unseen but felt red explosion
inside a silver, gray lump of aluminum. The crane did
(25:38):
not move, as though it could not believe its next task.
There was a deep and long silence. Then there was
a growing noise in the stadium. John realized part of
it was coming from him. At first it was inarticulate,
like the cries of animals. Then it found words. He's gone.
(26:06):
Someone screamed, there's no more champion. We've lost him. The
Champion didn't make it. A pounding grew in John's head
and became a refrain with which he led the crowd.
We need a champion, We need a champion. He did
(26:31):
not know its origin, not even really its meaning, but
it was there, throbbing in his head, overwhelming him completely.
It had now been communicated to the others, and the
whole stadium shook with the sound. We need a champion,
We need a champion, We need the champion. Then suddenly
(26:57):
it was I will be the champ. I will be
the champion. I will be the champion. And then John
was running down the ramp toward the track, waving his
arms and shouting I will, I will, I will, and
(27:22):
behind him came others. The story you've heard this time
was Morthwrace.
Speaker 3 (27:39):
Written by Richard Hill. It appears in.
Speaker 2 (27:42):
The collection again Dangerous Visions, Volume two, edited by Harlan Ellison.
I'm Michael Hanson. Technical operation for this program by Marsha Phillips.
Mind Webbs comes to you from WHA Radio and Madison,
a service of University of Wisconsin Extension. Yeah.
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