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The Worlds Of Robert A Heinlein

Page 14

by Robert A. Heinlein

and tell me in plain language why I should not grant his prayer."

  Mr. Weems jerked his chin nervously, making his flabby gray dewlap drag

  across his high stiff collar, and resumed:

  "May it please the honorable court, I represent the public�"

  "Just a moment. I thought you were appearing for Amalgamated Life

  Insurance."

  "I am, your honor, in a formal sense. In a wider sense I represent several

  other of the major assurance, fiduciary and financial institutions, their

  stockholders and policy holders, who constitute a majority of the

  citizenry. In addition we feel that we protect the interests of the entire

  population, unorganized, inarticulate and otherwise unprotected."

  "I thought that I represented the public," observed the judge dryly. "I am

  afraid I must regard you as appearing for your client of record. But

  continue. What is your thesis?"

  The elderly barrister attempted to swallow his Adam's apple, then began

  again: "Your honor, we contend that there are two separate reasons why this

  injunction should be made permanent, and, further, that each reason is

  sufficient alone.

  "In the first place, this person is engaged in the practice of soothsaying,

  an occupation proscribed both in common law and statute. He is a common

  fortune-teller, a vagabond charlatan who preys on the gullibility of the

  public. He is cleverer than the ordinary gypsy palm reader, astrologer or

  table tipper, and to the same extent more dangerous. He makes false claims

  of modern scientific methods to give a spurious dignity of the thaumaturgy.

  We have here in court leading representatives of the Academy of Science to

  give expert witness as to the absurdity of his claims.

  "In the second place, even if this person's claims were true�granting for

  the sake of argument such an absurdity�" Mr. Weems permitted himself a

  thin-lipped smile�"we contend that his activities are contrary to the

  public interest in general, and unlawfully injurious to the interests of my

  client in particular. We are prepared to produce numerous exhibits with the

  legal custodians to prove that this person did publish, or cause to have

  published, utterances urging the public to dispense with the priceless boon

  of life insurance to the great detriment of their welfare and to the

  financial damage of my client."

  Pinero arose in his place. "Your honor, may I say a few words?"

  "What is it?"

  "I believe I can simplify the situation if permitted to make a brief

  analysis.

  "Your honor," put in Weems, "this is most irregular."

  "Patience, Mr. Weems. Your interests will be protected. It seems to me that

  we need more light and less noise in this matter. If Dr. Pinero can shorten

  the proceedings by speaking at this time, I am inclined to let him.

  Proceed, Dr. Pinero."

  "Thank you, your honor. Taking the last of Mr. Weems' point first, I am

  prepared to stipulate that I published the utterances he speaks of�"

  "One moment, doctor. You have chosen to act as your own attorney. Are you

  sure you are competent to protect your own interests?"

  "I am prepared to chance it, your honor. Our friends here can easily prove

  what I stipulate."

  "Very well. You may proceed."

  "I will stipulate that many persons have canceled life insurance policies

  as a result there of, but I challenge them to show that anyone so doing has

  suffered any loss or damage there from. It is true that the Amalgamated has

  lost business through my activities, but that is the natural result of my

  discovery, which has made their policies as obsolete as the bow and arrow.

  If an injunction is granted on that ground, I shall set up a coal-oil-lamp

  factory, and then ask for an injunction against the Edison and General

  Electric companies to forbid them to manufacture incandescent bulbs.

  "I will stipulate that I am engaged in the business of making predictions

  of death, but I deny that I am practicing magic, black, white or

  rainbow-colored. If to make predictions by methods of scientific accuracy

  is illegal, then the actuaries of the Amalgamated have been guilty for

  years, in that they predict the exact percentage that will die each year in

  any given large group. I predict death retail; the Amalgamated predicts it

  wholesale. If their actions are legal, how can mine be illegal?

  "I admit that it makes a difference whether I can do what I claim, or not;

  and I will stipulate that the so-called expert witnesses from the Academy

  of Science will testify that I cannot. But they know nothing of my method

  and cannot give truly expert testimony on it�"

  "Just a moment, doctor. Mr. Weems, is it true that your expert witnesses

  are not conversant with Dr. Pinero's theory and methods?"

  Mr. Weems looked worried. He drummed on the table top, then answered. "Will

  the court grant me a few moments' indulgence?"

  "Certainly."

  Mr. Weems held a hurried whispered consultation with his cohorts, then

  faced the bench. "We have a procedure to suggest, your honor. If Dr. Pinero

  will take the stand and explain the theory and practice of his alleged

  method, then these distinguished scientists will be able to advise the

  court as to the validity of his claims."

  The judge looked inquiringly at Pinero, who responded: "I will not

  willingly agree to that. Whether my process is true or false, it would be

  dangerous to let it fall into the hands of fools and quacks�" he waved his

  hand at the group of professors seated in the front row, paused and smiled

  maliciously�"as these gentlemen know quite well. Furthermore, it is not

  necessary to know the process in order to prove that it will work. Is it

  necessary for me to re-educate this entire body of self-appointed

  custodians of wisdom�cure them of their ingrown superstitions�in order to

  prove that my predictions are correct?

  "There are but two ways of forming an opinion in science. One is the

  scientific method; the other, the scholastic. One can judge from

  experiment, or one can blindly accept authority. To the scientific mind,

  experimental proof is all�important, and theory is merely a convenience in

  description, to be junked when it no longer fits. To the academic mind,

  authority is everything, and facts are junked when they do not fit theory

  laid down by authority.

  "It is this point of view�academic minds clinging like oysters to disprove

  theories�that has blocked every advance of knowledge in history. I am

  prepared to prove my method by experiment, and, like Galileo in another

  court, I insist, "It still moves!"

  "Once before I offered such proof to this Some body of self-styled experts,

  and they rejected it. I renew my offer; let me measure the life length of

  the members of the Academy of Science. Let them appoint a committee to

  judge the results. I will seal my findings in two sets of envelopes; on the

  outside of each envelope in one set will appear the name of a member; on

  the inside, the date of his death. In the other envelopes I will place

  names; on the outside I will place dates. Let the committee place the

  envelopes in a vault, then meet from time to time to
open the appropriate

  envelopes. In such a large body of men some deaths may be expected, if

  Amalgamated actuaries can be trusted, every week or two. In such a fashion

  they will accumulate data very rapidly to prove that Pinero is a liar, or

  no."

  He stopped, and thrust out his chest until it almost caught up with his

  little round belly. He glared at the sweating servants. "Well?"

  The judge raised his eyebrows, and caught Mr. Weems' eye. "Do you accept?"

  "Your honor, I think the proposal highly improper�"

  The judge cut him short. "I warn you that I shall rule against you if you

  do not accept, or propose an equally reasonable method of arriving at the

  truth."

  Weems opened his mouth, changed his mind, looked up and down the faces of

  the learned witnesses, and faced the bench. "We accept, your honor."

  "Very well. Arrange the details between you. The temporary injunction is

  lifted, and Dr. Pinero must not be molested in the pursuit of his business.

  "Decision on the petition for permanent injunction is reserved without

  prejudice pending the accumulation of evidence. Before we leave this matter

  I wish to comment on the theory implied by you, Mr. Weems, when you claimed

  damage to your client. There has grown up in the minds of certain groups in

  this country the notion that because a man or corporation has made a profit

  out of the public for a number of years, the government and the courts are

  charged with the duty of guaranteeing such profit in the future, even in

  the face of changing circumstances and contrary to public interest. This

  strange doctrine is not supported by statute nor common law. Neither

  individuals nor corporations have any right to come into court and ask that

  the clock of history be stopped, or turned back."

  Bidwell grunted in annoyance. "Weems, if you can't think up anything better

  than that, Amalgamated is going to need a new chief attorney. It's been ten

  weeks since you lost the injunction, and that little wart is coining money

  hand over fist. Meantime, every insurance firm in the country's going

  broke. Hoskins, what's our loss ratio?"

  "It's hard to say, Mr. Bidwell. It gets worse every day. We've paid off

  thirteen big policies this week; all of them taken out since Pinero started

  operations."

  A spare little man spoke up. "I say, Bidwell, we aren't accepting any new

  applicants for United, until we have time to check and be sure that they

  have not consulted Pinero. Can't we afford to wait until the scientists

  show him up?"

  Bidwell snorted. "You blasted optimist! They won't show him up. Aldrich,

  can't you face a fact? The fat little pest has something; how, I don't

  know. This is a fight to the finish. If we wait, we're licked." He threw

  his cigar into a cuspidor, and bit savagely into a fresh one. "Clear out of

  here, all of you! I'll handle this my own way. You, too, Aldrich. United

  may wait, but Amalgamated won't."

  Weems cleared his throat apprehensively. "Mr. Bidwell, I trust you will

  consult me before embarking on any major change in policy?"

  Bidwell grunted. They filed out. When they were all gone and the door

  closed, Bidwell snapped the switch of the inter-office announcer. "O.K.;

  send him in."

  The outer door opened. A slight, dapper figure stood for a moment at the

  threshold. His small, dark eyes glanced quickly about the room before he

  entered, then he moved up to Bidwell with a quick, soft tread. He spoke to

  Bidwell in a flat, emotionless voice. His face remained impassive except

  for the live, animal eyes. "You wanted to talk to me?"

  "Yes."

  "What's the proposition?"

  "Sit down, and we'll talk."

  Pinero met the young couple at the door of his inner office.

  "Come in, my dears, come in. Sit down. Make yourselves at home. Now tell

  me, what do you want of Pinero? Surely such young people are not anxious

  about the final roll call?"

  The boy's pleasant young face showed slight confusion. "Well, you see, Dr.

  Pinero, I'm Ed Hartley and this is my wife, Betty. We're going to have . .

  . that is, Betty is expecting a baby and, well�"

  Pinero smiled benignly. "I understand. You want to know how long you will

  live in order to make the best possible provision for the youngster. Quite

  wise. Do you both want readings, or just yourself?"

  The girl answered, "Both of us, we think."

  Pinero beamed at her. "Quite so. I agree. Your reading presents certain

  technical difficulties at this time, but I can give you some information

  now. Now come into my laboratory, my dears, and we'll commence."

  He rang for their case histories, then showed them into his workshop. "Mrs.

  Hartley first, please. If you will go behind that screen and remove your

  shoes and your outer clothing, please."

  He turned away and made some minor adjustments of his apparatus. Ed nodded

  to his wife, she slipped behind the screen and reappeared almost at once,

  dressed in a slip. Pinero glanced up.

  "This way, my dear. First we must weigh you. There. Now take you place on

  the stand. This electrode in your mouth. No, Ed, you mustn't touch her

  while she is in the circuit. It won't take a minute. Remain quiet."

  He dove under the machine's hood and the dials sprang into life. Very

  shortly he came out, with a perturbed look on his face. "Ed, did you touch

  her?"

  "No, doctor." Pinero ducked back again and remained a little longer. When

  he came out this time, he told the girl to get down and dress. He turned to

  her husband.

  "Ed, make yourself ready."

  "What's Betty's reading, doctor?"

  "There is a little difficulty. I want to test you first."

  When he came out from taking the youth's reading, his face was more

  troubled than ever. Ed inquired as to his trouble. Pinero shrugged his

  shoulders and brought a smile to his lips.

  "Nothing to concern you, my boy. A little mechanical misadjustment, I

  think. But I shan't be able to give you two your readings today. I shall

  need to overhaul my machine. Can you come back tomorrow?"

  "Why, I think so. Say, I'm sorry about your machine. I hope it isn't

  serious."

  "It isn't, I'm sure. Will you come back into my office and visit for a

  bit?"

  "Thank you, doctor. You are very kind.

  "But, Ed, I've got to meet Ellen."

  Pinero turned the full force of his personality on her. "Won't you grant me

  a few moments, my dear young lady? I am old, and like the sparkle of young

  folks' company. I get very little of it. Please." He nudged them gently

  into his office and seated them. Then he ordered lemonade and cookies sent

  in, offered them cigarettes and lit a cigar.

  Forty minutes later Ed listened entranced, while Betty was quite evidently

  acutely nervous and anxious to leave as the doctor spun out a story

  concerning his adventures as a young man in Terra del Fuego. When the

  doctor stopped to relight his cigar, she stood up.

  "Doctor, we really must leave. Couldn't we hear the rest tomorrow?"

  "Tomorrow? There will not be time tomorrow."

  "But you haven't time today, ei
ther. Your secretary has rung five times."

  "Couldn't you spare me just a few more minutes?"

  "I really can't today, doctor. I have an appointment. There is someone

  waiting for me."

  "There is no way to induce you?"

  "I'm afraid not. Come, Ed."

  After they had gone, the doctor stepped to the window and stared out over

  the city. Presently he picked out two tiny figures as they left the office

  building. He watched them hurry to the corner, wait for the lights to

  change, then start across the street. When they were part way across, there

  came the scream of a siren. The two little figures hesitated, started back,

  stopped and turned. Then a car was upon them. As the car slammed to a stop,

  they showed up from beneath it, no longer two figures, but simply a limp,

  unorganized heap of clothing.

  Presently the doctor turned away from the window. Then he picked up his

  phone and spoke to his secretary.

  "Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. . . .

  No. . . . No one. . . . I don't care; cancel them."

  Then he sat down in his chair. His cigar went out.

  Long after dark he held it, still unlighted.

  Pinero sat down at his dining table and contemplated the gourmet's luncheon

  spread before him. He had ordered this meal with particular care, and had

  come home a little early in order to enjoy it fully.

  Somewhat later he let a few drops of fiori d'Alpini roll down his throat.

  The heavy, fragrant syrup warmed his mouth and reminded him of the little

  mountain flowers for which it was named. He sighed. It had been a good

  meal, an exquisite meal and had justified the exotic liqueur.

  His musing was interrupted by a disturbance at the front door. The voice of

  his elderly maidservant was raised in remonstrance. A heavy male voice

  interrupted her. The commotion moved down the hall and the dining room door

  was pushed open.

  "Mia Madonna! Non si puo entrare! The master is eating!"

  "Never mind, Angela. I have time to see these gentlemen. You may go."

  Pinero faced the surly-faced spokesman of the intruders. "You have business

  with me; yes?"

  "You bet we have. Decent people have had enough of your damned nonsense."

  "And so?"

  The caller did not answer at once. A smaller, dapper individual moved out

  from behind him and faced Pinero.

  "We might as well begin." The chairman of the committee placed a key in the

  lock box and opened it.

  "Wenzell will you help me pick out today's envelopes?"

  He was interrupted by a touch on his arm.

  "Dr. Baird, you are wanted on the telephone."

  "Very well. Bring the instrument here."

  When it was fetched he placed the receiver to his ear. "Hello. . . . Yes;

  speaking. . . . What? . . . No, we have heard nothing. . . Destroyed the

  machine, you say . . . Dead! How? . . . No! No statement. None at all. . .

  Call me later."

  He slammed the instrument down and pushed it from him.

  "What's up?"

  "Who's dead now?"

  Baird held up one hand. "Quiet, gentlemen, please! Pinero was murdered a

  few moments ago at his home."

  "Murdered?"

  "That isn't all. About the same time vandals broke into his office and

  smashed his apparatus."

  No one spoke at first. The committee members glanced around at each other.

  No one seemed anxious to be the first to comment.

  Finally one spoke up. "Get it out."

  "Get what out?"

  "Pinero's envelope. It's in there, too. "I've seen it."

 

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