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Illustration: Tom meeting a prospective new group member.
_History records numerous small colonies, based upon unusual ideas of the family unit and social group. Most of these have failed in practice, but usually because they were based upon idealistic notions which had little to do with the economic or social necessities of their times. But what of a new theory of the family and social unit which is designed to conform with actual conditions? And what is such a group likely to face when a new member, a person without any understanding of the actual conditions, has to be accepted as a member?_
_The Way Of Decision_
_by_ M. C. PEASE
Tom Vord sat on the porch of his clan's house with his feet on therailing. Across the valley, he could hear the muted roar of the commutertrack that led south to New Haven; but all he could see were thesprawling rows of private houses that strung along the belt. And behindthem, more isolated from each other, the larger structures of the homesof other clans. The bright greenness of spring lay over the land, and itwas fresh and sparkling. A typical suburban scene in this year of 2013,Tom thought. Even the mixture of private houses and clan was symbolic ofthe time. And in a way, symbolic also of the problem he had.
Tom's face was brooding. His was a nature not easily satisfied, orcontent with half-solutions--and he took the problems of the clanseriously. Partly as a consequence of this, but also because he had theself-control to avoid crises, he was the unacknowledged leader of theclan, and its chief administrator. His age was hard to guess. He was notold; his face was unlined, and his hair both present and dark; his eyesshowed an enthusiasm that indicated youth. And yet he was not young;there was a maturity in his glance, an acceptance in his attitude thatmade him seem older than he was. And so he sat there, relaxed, idlylooking out over the countryside, even as he wondered if the presentcrisis was enough to disrupt the clan.
Below him Ricky Vord came toiling up the steps to the house. Ricky wasthe opposite of Tom. Young and intense, with a devil-may-care attitude,he was the born salesman. His enthusiasms came bubbling out, and he hadthe ability to carry with him anyone who might object. And if he did nothave the deepness of thought fully to understand the implications of allthat he said or did, he was the better salesman for it.
With a wave, Ricky entered the house. There were muffled sounds from theinterior, and it was not for several minutes that the boy appeared onthe porch. Then it was with two tall glasses in his hands. "I considerthis Tom Collins weather," he said. "I suspect you do, too, only you'retoo lazy to mix your own." He handed Tom the second drink and sat downbeside him.
"Possibly," Tom said with a smile. "I certainly won't refuse. What doyou know?"
"A lot of things," Ricky answered. He took a long drink. "Ah, that'sgood," he said. "You know, I been down talking to Graves again. We gotthat thing in the bag if we want it." His voice was off-hand,deliberately so, Tom knew.
"We have?" Tom's voice also was careful. "Do you mean with or withoutthe girl?"
"Well ... You can't blame Graves for wanting to see his daughtersettled. He figures that if she gets into a clan, maybe she'll calmdown. And he could be right. Maybe she will; who knows? After all, shedoes want to come in. That must mean something."
"Sure, it means something," Tom agreed, his voice slightly sardonic. "Itmeans she wants to collect a whole clan. And as far as I am concerned,she's welcome to it--as long as it isn't the Vord one."
"Look," Ricky swung up onto the edge of his chair, turning to face Tomand leaning towards him, "you're only seeing one side of this. You thinkMarcia's just looking for a thrill, for something new, anddifferent--and that that's why she wants to join us. Maybe it is; Iwon't deny it. I don't happen to think that's the reason, but it couldbe. But what if it is? Why do we have to rear back and stand on ourdignity? Why can't we take her in, let her have her thrill, and then getout. If a thrill is all she's looking for, she'll get out quick enough.Unless she gets converted--that could happen, too. What do we lose?
"And look what we lose if we do sit blindly on our dignity," he went onwith a rush. "The job at Midland's running out. Times are tough. There'snot many openings for a bunch of wiring-assemblers. As it stands now,the choice is between Eltron Electric and Universal. Universal we canget with no strings, except that we have to go to Detroit--and exceptthat it doesn't pay very well.
"Eltron, on the other hand, is Graves; and Graves doesn't like theclans. He's never had anything to do with them. A Free-Laborite from wayback. Only he's got a daughter, Marcia; and Marcia, bless her sweetlittle soul, wants to join a clan. So the old man's willing to takeanother look at things; he'll give us a contract when Marcia's a Vord,and it'll be a good contract. In fact, he'll damn near let us write it.What can we lose?"
"You think we should take her in," Tom said.
"Yes I do," Ricky answered. "Otherwise, we have to pull up stakes andmove, and that job out at Universal is no picnic. We won't do much morethan break even on it, and maybe it'll only last a few months; it's thatkind of a thing."
Tom smiled suddenly. "You are not quite consistent," he said. "You areworrying about Universal being temporary. And yet you brush aside thefact that Marcia may pull out. What would happen to us at Eltron if shedid?"
"I don't know," Ricky answered, unabashed. "Maybe by that time we'd haveGraves convinced. Most guys who run companies get to like the idea ofcontracting the clans, when they give it a try."
"They should," Tom grunted. "It's the answer to their labor problems."
"Sure," Ricky answered. "Only there are still guys like Graves aroundwho don't see it. His pet topic of conversation is the Iltor Clan; hementions it every time anyone suggests that the clans bring stability."
"But the Iltor clan was wrong from the first," Tom said. "The guys whoput it together were unstable themselves; they tried to make the clan asmall-size empire of their own--almost a bunch of slaves.
"So, eventually, they had a revolt. It had gotten to be a large outfit,since they were willing to accept anybody who would be a slave--andthere are always lots of those--so the revolt was extensive and bloody.That's not typical of the clans. Not of the better ones; not of thosethat are really clans--and not empires. With any new idea like theclans, you are bound to get some bad results. But do you hang the goodexamples for the bad ones?" He sounded irritated.
"Don't argue with me," Ricky said. "I'm just telling you what Graves hasin mind. Of course, actually, there's more to it than that. The thingis, he took over Eltron Electric when it was practically on the rocks;he salvaged it, built it up, made it what it is today. All by himself.Using his own wits and his own guts. It all came out of him. Oh, sure,he had help--some pretty able guys were in with him. But they were thesame type: Each of them knowing his own value, depending on himself andnot on any others. They worked together because that was where theirself-interest lay. A bunch of Free-Traders in the best tradition of theword. Free-Trading's been their life-blood; naturally none of them areapt to welcome the clan idea, and Graves least of all."
"Do they really think they can hold out indefinitely?" Tom asked. "Theymust know they are being left behind, that they're getting out of step."
"I doubt it," Ricky said. "Graves says that the world is off on acock-eyed binge with this clan idea, and I'm quoting his words. Hefigures it's going to come to its senses, eventually. At least that'swhat he says; what he really believes deep down in his heart, I don'tknow. Maybe, underneath, he's convinced; maybe if you could get him toadmit the truth, he knows he has to accept us if he's going to survive.Maybe that's why he's letting Marcia twist his arm; it could be."
Tom nodded. "In any case, we're in the middle," he said. He lookedsardonic. "Caught between the hammer of present reality and the stubbornanvil of Graves." He finished off his drink. "What do you propose todo?"
"I propose to let Graves pay our bills, in spite of his opinions," Rickysaid. "And if that includes Marcia, why I don't really mind. One has toput up with some inconveniences; and when the inconvenience is a dishlike her, I don't really mind at all." He leered in an exaggerated way.
Tom chuckled. "Yeah," he said, "I know what you mean." He becameserious. "But that's my point; the girls will hardly take this point ofview."
"They don't seem to object particularly," Ricky said. "Why should they?They're only six to our seven--so Marcia will just round things out,nice and even-like.
"Marcia, as you say, is a 'dish'," Tom agreed "and I can't quite see herrounding anything out to make it come out even. I think you're a damnedoptimist. Besides, I'm not so sure the girls don't mind. They joke aboutit, yes, but some of the jokes bite. I think maybe they hope they won'thave to object. Afraid we'll call them jealous. After all, what wouldyou do in their place?"
"I don't know," Ricky said. "But if that is a factor, then I think theyought to argue their own case. Where are they?"
"Oh, Betsy and Rita have taken the kids down to the beach. Sandy is outshopping for food. She figured she'd go down to Mark's Place, so she'llbe a bit late. Esther went over to see about shoes; she thinks she mayget a better bargain at a place she heard of down the line. Polly andJoan went in with the boys to work; they're trying to wind up thecontract with Midland by this week. Decided there's no point instringing it out. Get it wound up and then take a vacation. I've beenover at Midland finishing up the legal details. Also had to go downtownthis morning to see the Income Tax people. When do you suppose they'regoing to get a system set up that's reasonable for the clans?" His voicebetrayed a chronic irritation.
Ricky shrugged. "When the clans carry most of the votes. The whole ideaof a clan is too new in society for the law to have caught up with it.If the clans had a majority, they could force things--and eventuallythey will. But not yet. Particularly, since the most vocal part of thenon-clan majority considers us immoral. Destroyers of the family,mockers of the sacrament of marriage."
The sarcasm was heavy in his voice. "Someday, they'll see we've savedthe home and the family--not destroyed it. We've brought it into linewith the social facts of today, rescued it from the perennialfrustrations that filled the divorce courts. Aye, and the insaneasylums, too. Damn few people used to get out of marriage anything likewhat they ought to. Take the average Free-Trader and Monogamist: Hisfamily is just one small part of his life. Separate, distinct. It shouldbe a solid rock on which he can build his life outside. But it isn't,except maybe in a very rare case. Mostly, it's just a thing thatoccupies some certain hours of his day, with no relation to the rest. Heis left without an anchor. And the girl? She is boxed into a smallsphere of activity, bound by her duties to an inexorable frustration oflimited horizons."
He jumped up and started pacing up and down, gesturing with his arms."Is this the great and beautiful thing they want to preserve? Or willthey admit the realities? Will they admit the truths of anthropology?Realize that the idea of the family unit has had real meaning only whenit has been the economic unit as well? And that in the modern world theeconomic unit is larger--and, therefore, the family must be, too? In themodern world, the economic unit is a team of workers; therefore, thefamily must be large enough to include the team. What's immoral aboutthis? It gives the family meaning in the modern world, and it gives theindividual something to live by. It gives him a reality that he couldnot have alone."
"Clear, concise, and possibly illuminating if I didn't know it already,"Tom smiled at the younger one's missionary instincts. "Why don't youtell Graves this? Maybe we would not have to absorb his daughter."
"What do you think I've been telling him?" Ricky asked. He looked atrifle abashed, knowing that his enthusiasm had run away with him. "Hehit the ceiling when Marcia first started talking up the clan idea,vowed that no daughter of his would ever disgrace the family name. Imanaged to talk him out of that, anyway. But, I'm no magician; he'sstill a Free-Trader of the old school. So my convincing him meant thathe was willing to use his power to get his daughter what she wants.Which is us."
"In other words," Tom said, "you talked him out of thinking the clansare immoral, so he decided to _buy_ one." He bit the sentence off.
"Well, yes," Ricky admitted; "that's one way of looking at it. But let'slook at it another way. The rules of the clan are that a new member isprovisional for a year. Any time in that year, we can always throw herout if we have to. And even afterwards--when we can no longer throw herout, and it could be we won't want to--there'll still be no reason whywe should have to bow down to the old man. We can walk out on him, atleast, any time. If Marcia doesn't want to come, then she can staybehind; and neither Graves nor anybody else can stop us."
"It sounds good," Tom said. "It's just that I don't believe it. Thestrength of the clan is its independence. We thirteen, and our children,against the world. One unit, free, and in a sense, complete. If we letanyone else decide who shall be in us and who shall not, then we areless free by that much. And by that much we are less strong. Maybe I'm astubborn fool, Ricky, but that's the way I see it."
Ricky leaned against the porch railing. His face was thoughtful. "I wishI could convince you," he said. "The trouble is, I haven't got time.Graves has to have his answer now, to plan his production. Anyway,Marcia's getting restless; I think I'll have to tell them yes or notomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Tom looked startled. "What are you going to do? Caucus ittonight?"
Ricky nodded. "I have to, Tom. It isn't that I want to bull it throughyou. But if we don't get a vote on it tonight, then we've given up.Graves has said he has to know, so he can plan; we can't keep it in theair any longer. And I think the clan has a right to vote on theproblem." He looked apologetic.
Tom sighed. "We seem to have agreed to disagree," he said. "So maybeit's better to get the showdown over with." He got up, walked over toRicky, and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Let's break clean andcome out fighting at the bell." And he walked back inside the house tohis room.