The male gametes,” and here he opened another door, “they have to be kept at thirty-five instead of thirty-seven. “These are the incubators.” And opening an insulated door he showed them racks upon racks of numbered test-tubes. “I shall begin at the beginning,” said the D.H.C. And in this year of stability, A.F.632, it didn’t occur to you to ask this question anyway. Old, young? Thirty? Fifty? Fifty-five? It was hard to say. Tall and rather thin, he had a long chin and big rather prominent teeth. “Tomorrow,” he would add, smiling at them in a slightly menacing way, “you’ll be settling down to serious work. For of course some sort of general idea they must have, if they were to do their work intelligently, if they were to be good and happy members of society. “Just to give you a general idea,” he would explain to them. for Central London always made a point of personally conducting his new students round the various departments. A few newly arrived students, very young and callow, followed nervously at the Director’s heels. “And this,” said the Director opening the door, “is the Fertilizing Room.”īent over their instruments, three hundred Fertilizers were plunged, as the Director of Hatcheries and Conditioning entered the room, in the scarcely breathing silence. The only colourful things were the yellow barrels of the microscopes streak after luscious streak in long recession down the work tables. The overalls of the workers were white, their hands gloved with a pale corpse-coloured rubber. A harsh thin light glared through the windows. The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a shield, the World State’s motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.

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