by Robert Reed
does not know of the existence of the external universe . Somewhere,
THE GREAT GRAY PLAGUE, by Raymond F. Jones | 716
sometime, the first awareness of this external universe arises. In the
womb . Outside the womb . Early in fetal life, or late . When and
where this awareness comes is an individual matter . But when it
comes, it arrives with lethal impact .
“Awareness brings a million sensory invasions—chemical, phys-
ical, extrasensory—none of them understood, all of them terrifying .
“This terrible fear that arises in this moment of awareness and
non-understanding is almost sufficient to cause a choice of death
rather than life at this point . Only because of the developed tough-
ness, acquired through the aeons, does the majority of mammalian
life choose to continue .
“In this moment, choices must be made as to how to cope with
the external world, how to understand it so as to diminish the fear
it inspires . The library of genetic tapes is full of possible solutions .
Parental experience is examined, too, and the very sensory impacts
that are the source of the terror are inspected to a greater or lesser
extent to see how they align with taped information .
“A very basic choice is then made . It may not be a single decision,
but, rather, a system of decisions all based on some fundamental
underlying principle . And the choice may not be made in an instant .
How long a time it may occupy I do not know .
“When the decision has been made, reaction between the indi-
vidual and the external universe begins and understanding begins to
flow into the data storage banks. As data are stored, and successful
solutions found in the encounter with the world, fear diminishes .
Some kind of equilibrium is eventually reached, in which the organ-
ism decides how much fear it is willing to tolerate to venture farther
into areas of the unknown, and how much it is willing to limit its
experience because of this fear .
“When the decision has been made, and the point of equilibrium
chosen, a personality exists . The individual has shaped himself to
face the world .
“And nothing short of a Heavenly miracle will ever change that
shape!”
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“You have said nothing about how the crystal caused you to at-
tempt suicide,” said Fenwick .
“The crystal invalidated the molecular tape I had chosen to pro-
vide my foundation program for living . The tape was completely
shattered, brought to an end . There was nothing left for me to go
on .”
“Wait a minute!” said Fenwick . “Even supposing this could hap-
pen as you describe it, other programs could be selected out of the
great number you have described .”
“Quite true . But do you know what happens to an adult human
being when the program on which his entire life is patterned is de-
stroyed?”
Fenwick shook his head . “What is it like?”
“It’s like it was in the beginning, in that moment of first aware-
ness of the external universe . He is aware of the universe, but has
no understanding of it . Previous understanding—or what he thought
was understanding—has been invalidated, destroyed . The drive to
keep living, that was present in that first moment of awareness, has
weakened . The strongest impulse is to escape the terror that follows
awareness without understanding . Death is the quickest escape .
“This is why men are inflexible. This is why the Urbans cannot
endure the Galileos . This is why the Bill Bakers cannot face the Jim
Ellerbees. That was what Sam Atkins wanted to find out.
“If a man should decide his basic program is invalid and decide to
choose another, he would have to face again the terror of awareness
of a world in which understanding does not exist . He would have to
return to that moment of first awareness and select a new program
in that moment of overwhelming fear . Men are not willing to do
this . They prefer a program—a personality—that is defective, that
functions with only a fraction of the efficiency it might have. They
prefer this to a basic change of programs . Only when a program is
rendered absolutely invalid—as mine was by the crystal communi-
cator—is the program abandoned . When that happens, the average
man drives his car into a telephone pole or a bridge abutment, or he
THE GREAT GRAY PLAGUE, by Raymond F. Jones | 718
steps in front of a truck at a street intersection . I drove into a gully
in a storm .”
“All this would imply that the tape library is loaded with genetic
programs that contain basic defects!” said Fenwick .
Baker hesitated. “That’s not quite true,” he said finally. “The li-
brary of molecular tapes does contain a great many false solutions .
But they are false not so much because they are defective as because
they are obsolete . All of them worked at one time, under some set of
circumstances, however briefly. Those times and circumstances may
have vanished long since .”
“Then why are they chosen? Why aren’t they simply passed
over?”
“Because the individual organism lacks adequate data for evalu-
ating the available programs . In addition, information may be pre-
sented to him which says these obsolete programs are just the ones
to use .”
Fenwick leaned against the bed and shook his head . “How could
a crazy thing like that come about?”
“Cultures become diseased,” said Baker . “Sparta was such a
one in ancient times . A more psychotic culture has scarcely existed
anywhere, yet Sparta prevailed for generations . Ancient Rome is
another example . The Age of Chivalry . Each of these cultures was
afflicted with a different disease.
“These diseases are epidemic . Individuals are infected before
they emerge from the womb . In the Age of Chivalry this cultural
disease held out the data that the best life program was based on the
concept of Honor . Honor that could be challenged by a mistaken
glance, an accidental touch in a crowd . Honor that had to be de-
fended at the expense of life itself .
“Pure insanity . Yet how long did it persist?”
“And our culture?” said Fenwick . “There is such a sickness in
our times?”
Baker nodded . “There’s a disease in our times . A cultural disease
you might call the Great Gray Plague . It is a disease which premises
THE GREAT GRAY PLAGUE, by Raymond F. Jones | 719
that safety, security, and effectiveness in dealing with the world may
be obtained by agreement with the highest existing Authority .
“This premise was valid in the days when disobedience to the
Head Man meant getting lost in a bog or eaten by a saber-toothed
tiger . Today it is more than obsolete . It is among the most vicious
sicknesses that have ever infected any culture .”
“And you were sick with it .”
“I was sick with it . You remember I said a molecular program
is chosen partly on the basis of data presented by parental sources
and the spears of invasion from the external world . This data that
came to me from both sources said that I could deal with the world
by yielding to Authority, by surrounding myself with it as with a
shell . It would protect me . I would have stature . My world-problems
would be solved if I chose this pattern .
“I chose it well . In our culture there are two areas of Authority,
one in government, one in science . I covered myself both ways . I
became a Government Science Administrator . You just don’t get any
more authoritative than that in our day and time!”
“But not everyone employs this as a basic premise!” exclaimed
Fenwick .
“No—not everyone, fortunately . In that, may be our salvation . In
all times there have been a few infected individuals—Pope Urban,
for example . But in his time the culture was throwing off such ills
and was surging forward under the impetus of men like Galileo .
“In our own time we are on the other end of the stick . We are just
beginning to sink into this plague; it has existed in epidemic form
only a few short decades . But look how it has spread! Our civil insti-
tutions, always weak to such infection, have almost completely suc-
cumbed . Our educational centers are equally sick . Approach them
with a new idea and no Ph . D . and see what happens . Remember
the Greek elevator engineer who did that a few years ago? He bat-
tered his way in by sheer force . It was the only way . He became a
nuclear scientist . But for every one of his kind a thousand others are
defeated by the Plague .”
THE GREAT GRAY PLAGUE, by Raymond F. Jones | 720
Fenwick was grinning broadly . He suddenly laughed aloud . “You
must be crazy in the head, Bill . You sound just like me!”
Baker smiled faintly . “You are one of the lucky ones . You and
Jim . It hasn’t hit you . And there are plenty of others like you . But
they are defeated by the powerful ones in authority, who have been
infected .
“It’s less than fifty years since it hit us. It may have five hundred
years to run . I think we’ll be wiped out by it before then . There must
be something that can be done, some way to stamp it out .”
“Well,” said Fenwick . “You could give Clearwater enough to get
us on our feet and running . That would be a start in the right direc-
tion .”
“An excellent start,” said Baker . “The only trouble is you asked
for less than half of what you need . As soon as I get back to the of-
fice a grant for what you need will be on its way.”
William Baker stayed in the hospital two more days . Apart from
his family, he asked that no visitors be admitted . He felt as if he
were a new-born infant, facing the world with the knowledge of a
man—but innocent of experience .
He remembered the days before the accident . He remembered
how he dealt with the world in those days . But the methods used
then were as impossible to him now as if he were paralyzed . The
new methods, found in that bright portal to which Sam Atkins had
helped guide him, were untried . He knew they were right . But he
had never used them .
He found it difficult to define the postulates he had chosen. The
more he struggled to identify them, the more elusive they seemed
to become . When he gave up the struggle he found the answer . He
had chosen a program that held no fixed postulates. It was based on
a decision to face the world as it came .
He was not entirely sure what this meant . The age-old genetic
wisdom was still available to guide him . But he was committed to
no set path . Fresh decisions would be required at every turn .
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A single shot of vaccine could not stem an epidemic . His im-
munity to the sickness of his culture could not immunize the entire
populace . Yet, he felt there was something he could do . He was just
not sure what it was .
What could a single man do? In other times, a lone man had been
enough to overturn an age . But William Baker did not feel such
heroic confidence in his own capacity.
He was not alone, however . There were the John Fenwicks and
the Jim Ellerbees who were immune to the great Plague . It was just
that William Baker was probably the only man in the world who had
ever been infected so completely and then rendered immune . That
gave him a look at both sides of the fence, which was an advantage
no one else shared .
There was something that stuck in his mind, something that Sam
Atkins had said that night when Baker had been reborn . He couldn’t
understand it . Sam Atkins had said of the molecular program tape
that had been broken: When you cease to be fearful of Authority,
you become Authority .
The last thing in the whole world William Baker wanted now
was to be Authority . But the thought would not leave his mind . Sam
Atkins did not say things that had no meaning .
Baker’s return to the office of NBSD was an occasion for out-
pouring of the professional affection which his staff had always
tendered him . He knew that there had been a time when this had
given him a great deal of satisfaction. He remembered that fiftieth
birthday party .
Looking back, it seemed as if all that must have happened to
some other man . He felt like a double of himself, taking over posi-
tions and prerogatives in which he was a complete impostor .
This was going to be harder than he had anticipated, he thought .
Pehrson especially, it appeared, was going to be difficult. The
administrative assistant came into the office almost as soon as Baker
was seated at his desk . “It’s very good to have you back,” said Peh-
rson . “I think we’ve managed to keep things running while you’ve
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been gone, however . We have rejected approximately one hundred
applications during the past week .”
Baker grunted . “And how many have you approved?”
“Approval would have had to await your signature, of course .”
“O .K ., how many are awaiting my signature?”
“It has been impossible to find a single one which had a high
enough Index to warrant your consideration .”
“I see,” said Baker . “So you’ve taken care of the usual routine
without any help from me?”
“Yes,” said Pehrson .
“There’s one grant left over from before I was absent . We must
get that out of the way as quickly as possible .”
“I don’t recall any that were pending—” said Pehrson in apology .
“Clearwater College. Get me the file, will you?”
Pehrson didn’t know for sure whether the chief was joking or
not . He looked completely serious . Pehrson felt sick at the sudden
thought that the accident may have so injured the chief’s mind that
he was actually serious .
He sparred. “The Clearwater College file?”
Pehrson managed to get out with a placid mask on his face, but
it broke as soon as he reached the safety of his own office. It wasn’t
possible that Baker was serious! The check that went out that after-
noon convinced him it was so .
When Pehrson left the office, Baker got up and sauntered to the
window, looking out over the smoke-gray buildings of Washington .
The Index, he smiled, remembering it . Five years he and Pehrson
had worked on that . It had seemed like quite a monumental achieve-
ment when they considered it finished. It had never been really fin-
ished, of course. Continuous additions and modifications were being
made . But they had been very proud of it .
Baker wondered now, however, if they had not been very short-
sighted in their application of the Index . He sensed, stirring in the
back of his mind, not fully defined, possibilities that had never ap-
peared to him before .
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His speculations were interrupted by Doris . She spoke on the in-
terphone, still in the sweetly sympathetic tone she had adopted for
her greetings that morning . Baker suspected this would last at least
a full week .
“Dr . Wily is on the phone . He would like to know if you’d mind
his coming in this afternoon . Shall I make an appointment or would
you rather postpone these interviews for a few days? Dr . Wily would
understand, of course .”
“Tell him to come on up whenever he’s ready,” said Baker . “I’m
not doing much today .”
President George H . Wily, Ph . D ., D .Sc ., of Great Eastern Uni-
versity . Wily was one of his best customers .
Baker guessed that he had given Wily somewhere around twelve
or thirteen million dollars over the past decade . He didn’t know ex-
actly what Wily had done with all of it, but one didn’t question Great
Eastern’s use of its funds . Certainly only the most benevolent use
would be made of the money .
Baker reflected on his associations with Wily. His satisfaction
had been unmeasurable in those exquisite moments when he had
had the pleasure of handing Wily a check for two or three million
dollars at a time . In turn, Wily had invited him to the great, com-
memorative banquets of Great Eastern . He had presented Baker to
