Story by R.T Mason from Janus 42 The subway station was ultra-modern, spacious, brightly lit, and of course spotlessly clean. A far cry from the London Underground or the New York Subway, with not a sign of graffiti marring the sparkling walls. For naturally here in this Socialist State no one would be so antisocial as to wish to deface public property. And if by some faint chance someone did he would only do it once. A clean new train drew quietly in, its doors sliding smoothly open. From the first two compartments came a party of teenagers, 16- to 18-year-olds, laughing and chattering but at the same time orderly and well behaved. Socialist youth, disciplined and self-disciplined; no London punks here. There were perhaps 20, all in casual summer clothes, the boys in open-necked shirts and shorts, the girls in blouses and skirts or light dresses. They all carried rucksacks. There was an excited buzz for the school year had just