When Day is Done

In Short

This story depicts a near-future society where middle-aged businessmen, worn down by the stresses of corporate life, spend their evenings participating in "the run." They don jungle suits and arm themselves with sonic pistols to navigate a fenced-in, artificial wilderness filled with programmable robot predators. It is a satire of post-war corporate culture, exploring how men seek to reclaim a sense of primitive mastery in a world that has otherwise sanitized and deskilled their existence. Its staying power lies in its precise, dry observation of how easily human nature adapts to absurd, violent rituals.

The Story

Bertram J. Bernard is a stocky, composed executive at Utopian Appliances, Inc. As the workday ends, he avoids the social pressures of his younger colleagues, who favor bars and musical theater. Instead, Bernard heads for the "Jungle Station," a facility located beneath the transit lines. After checking his equipment and buying a "dope sheet" from a local informant to track the current behavior of the mechanical wildlife, he dons a jungle suit and climbs the interior wall.

He enters a vast, enclosed wilderness—a five-mile stretch of terrain populated by robotic panthers, polar bears, and coyotes. These machines are designed to mimic real predators, though they double as benign, picturesque attractions for children on weekends. Bernard navigates the terrain with practiced, weary competence, adjusting his sonic pistol’s frequency to account for the specific threats—panthers—currently in the area.

As he moves through the underbrush, he balances his caution with a sense of pride in his "U-F" (Ulcer-Free) insignia, a badge of status among the runners. He encounters various hazards, including a rickety log raft across a river and the ever-present threat of robotic coyotes, which track heat signatures.

Deep in the woods, he hears a woman’s scream. He finds a young female runner backed against a tree by three panthers, her sonic pistol lying uselessly on the ground. Despite the lack of any regulation requiring him to assist, Bernard intervenes, disabling the machines with precise shots. The girl is grateful and suggests he join her for a drink at her nearby apartment, but Bernard politely declines.

He completes the final leg of his journey, walking home through the quiet streets of suburbia. Arriving at his house, he is greeted by his wife, Virginia. He recounts the incident with casual detachment, dismissing her playful jealousy regarding the rescued woman. As he showers, he reflects on his twenty-three years as a "pioneer" of the run, having begun the practice initially just to please a supervisor. He ends the evening with a cocktail, already mentally preparing for the next day's trek, wondering if the panther population will shift away from the water hole by tomorrow. For Bernard, the office is a distant memory, and the artificial jungle—with all its risks—remains the only place where he feels truly alive.

How It Unfolds

The daily transition Bernard leaves the office with measured grace, bypassing the social habits of his peers to reach the specialized transit that leads to the underground locker room. He sheds his business identity, carefully stowing his professional attire to adopt the gear of the runner.

Preparing for the hunt He consults official bulletins and street-level tipsters to determine which robotic threats are currently active. With his sonic pistol calibrated and his "U-F" status confirmed, he scales the wall to enter the enclosure.

Navigating the wilderness Bernard maneuvers through the terrain, calculating risks against the habits of various mechanical beasts. He successfully crosses a dangerous river, relying on his years of experience to avoid the traps set within the environment.

An act of intervention Hearing a cry for help, Bernard chooses to break his solitary path and saves a fellow runner from a pack of panthers. He maintains his professional distance, declining her invitation and continuing his journey home as if it were a routine commute.

The domestic return He reaches his home, where the transition back to suburban life is seamless and devoid of sentiment. The cycle closes as he looks forward to the next day, fully committed to the ritual that keeps his corporate anxieties at bay.

The People

Bertram J. Bernard is a man of middle age who defines his worth through physical resilience rather than corporate achievement. He seeks out the "run" to alleviate the stresses of his executive position, finding a strange, quiet satisfaction in the danger of the jungle. He is pragmatic, disciplined, and slightly detached, viewing his life as a series of calculated movements between the office and the wild.

Virginia Bernard is Bertram's wife, who serves as the anchor to his suburban life. She is perceptive enough to recognize the absurdity of his hobby and teases him about the women he encounters, yet she participates in the ritual by cleaning his gear and providing the drink that signals the end of his day.

The Young Female Runner acts as a mirror to Bernard. Her presence and her panic highlight the intensity of the jungle environment, and her subsequent attempt to thank Bernard serves to reinforce his sense of superiority and detachment. She is a reminder that the jungle is a place where professional status disappears, replaced by the immediate, primal reality of survival.

In Its Own Voice

If there is a bit of the jungle in every man--why not put every man into a bit of the jungle?

This rhetorical question, appearing early in the narrative, establishes the central premise of the society Bernard inhabits.

He checked the frequency setting on the sonic pistol, adjusting it to the panthers who were reported in ascendancy.

This quote illustrates the clinical, almost bureaucratic manner in which the characters approach their life-threatening hobby.

What It's Really About

The book examines the compartmentalization of the human spirit in a hyper-managed, corporate society. It argues that when work becomes entirely sedentary and sanitized, men will go to extreme lengths—even inventing artificial, life-threatening scenarios—to experience a sense of raw agency. The jungle represents a controlled outlet for the primal urges that the modern office cannot accommodate. By framing these hunts as a routine, regulated hobby, the story highlights the absurdity of a life where the only way to feel "ulcer-free" is to simulate a near-death experience. It questions whether "pioneering" in a fake environment actually fulfills a man, or if it simply makes him a more efficient, numb participant in the very system he is trying to escape.

Why Read It Today

This story will resonate with anyone who has felt the crushing weight of a professional routine that leaves no room for the senses. It captures the specific, mid-century anxiety of the "organization man," translating that abstract dread into a vivid, physical struggle. The prose is dry and remarkably efficient, reflecting the personality of its protagonist; it does not waste words, much like Bernard does not waste movement.

Readers should be prepared for a narrative that is firmly rooted in its 1960s origin. The gender dynamics, particularly the expectation that a man would be the provider of safety and the woman would be the grateful, seductive rescuee, are presented with a matter-of-factness that reflects the era's attitudes. There is little emotional melodrama; instead, the author focuses on the mechanics of the run and the quiet resignation of the characters. It is not an action-heavy thriller, but a character study of a man who has surrendered to a bizarre, state-sanctioned ritual. What stays with you is the haunting image of the commute—not the one to the office, but the one through the woods—and the realization that for many, the only path to sanity is a return to a very artificial, very dangerous "wild."