Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

by James H. Schmitz

  Hair took his figures to Mallory, pointed out the political dangers of failure if ACCED was continued on its present scale, recommended cutting it back sharply to the level of a controlled experiment until Curtice’s group was able to show that the current stages of their work would not bog down in the same type of problems as the first had done. This would release department funds for the investigation of other approaches to the educational problem which could be brought into development if it appeared eventually that ACCED had to be written off.

  Mallory heard him out, then shook his head.

  “I’ve been aware of what you’ve told me, George,” he said. “The trouble is that neither you nor I have the background to understand fully what Curtice is up to. But the man has a fantastic mind. There’s nobody in his field to approach him today. He feels he needs the kind of wide, general experimentation he’s getting through ACCED and his work with SELAM to produce the information he’s after. I’ve seen some of the results of both, and I’m betting on him!”

  He added thoughtfully, “If you’re right in suspecting that the approach has an inherent weakness in it which will make it ultimately unusable, it’ll show up within another few years. Time enough then to decide what to do. But until we do have proof that it isn’t going to work, let’s let the thing ride.”

  He grinned, added again, “Incidentally, I’ll appreciate being kept informed on what’s going on in the department. ACCED is Wirt’s baby, of course, but there’s no reason it should be his baby exclusively . . .

  Which made Hair’s role clear. Mallory was curious about Sebert’s interest in ACCED, had wanted a dependable observer who would be associated closely enough with the project to detect any significant developments there. Hair was now in a position to do just that. But he was not to interfere with Curtice because that would defeat Mallory’s purpose.

  Hair accepted the situation. He could not act against Sebert’s wishes unless he had Mallory’s authority behind him; and if Mallory had decided to wait until it was certain Curtice had failed, his role must remain that of an investigator. In time, the evidence would present itself. The reports he was receiving from the ACCED Building could not be considered reliable, but he was installing his own observers at key points in the project; and if that did not increase his popularity with Curtice and his colleagues, it would insure, Hair thought, that not too much of what was done escaped his attention. In addition, there was an obvious pattern to the manner in which the various project activities were stressed or underemphasized which should serve to guide him now.

  THE emphasis during the next two years shifted increasingly to SELAM. After the first wave of acute psychoneurotic disturbances had subsided, Curtice’s selective amnesia machines had played a limited role in the ACCED project itself; but they had been used experimentally in a variety of other ways. SELAM, when it was effective, produced a release of specific tensions by deleting related portions of the established neural circuitry and thereby modifying the overall pattern of the brain’s activity. It had a record of successful applications in psychiatric work, the relief of psychosomatic problems, some forms of senility, in the rehabilitation of criminals, and finally in animal experiments where the machines could be used to their fullest scope. The present limiting factor, according to Curtice, lay in the difficulty and the length of time required to train a sufficient number of operators up to the necessary level of understanding and skill in handling the machines. Most of SELAM’s more spectacular successes had, in fact, been achieved by himself and a handful of his immediate associates.

  The story was now that this problem was being overcome, that a corps of SELAM experts soon would be available to serve the public in various ways, and that the average citizen could expect a number of direct benefits for himself, including perhaps that of a virtual rejuvenation, in the foreseeable future. George Hair did not give such attention to these claims. They were, he thought, another distraction; meanwhile, ACCED could receive correspondingly less publicity. And ACCED, as a matter of fact, if it had not yet encountered a renewed serious setback, was, at least, being slowed down deliberately in order to avoid one. A number of the teen-age schools had quietly closed, the students having been transferred to country camps where the emphasis was on sports and recreation, while accelerated education had been reduced to a few hours a day. Curtice admitted privately that certain general danger signals had been noted and that a pause in the overall program was indicated until the difficulties had been analyzed and dealt with. He did not appear unduly concerned.

  It was during the third year following Hair’s attempt to persuade Mallory to have ACCED cut back at once to the level of experimental research that Oliver Wingfield launched his first public attacks on the project. Wingfield was then campaigning for the governorship he was to win with startling ease a few months later, while continuing his crusade for the general elections he hoped would move him into the top spot in the Administration. The detailed nature of his charges against ACCED made it evident that he had informants among the project personnel.

  It put George Hair in a difficult position. If it was a choice between supporting Wingfield and supporting Mallory, he much preferred to support Mallory. This was due less to his remaining feelings of friendship for Mallory than to the fact that Oliver Wingfield’s policies had always had an aspect of angry destructiveness about them. As one of the Big Four, he had been sufficiently held in check; his pugnaciousness and drive had made him extremely useful then. If he was allowed to supplant Mallory, however, he would be a dangerous man.

  In all reason, Hair thought, they should have closed out ACCED before this. The political damage would have been insignificant if the matter was handled carefully. To do it now, under Wingfield’s savage criticism, would be a much more serious matter. The government would appear to have retreated under pressure, and Wingfield’s cause would be advanced. But he was not sure the step could be delayed much longer.

  Then he had his first reports of six-year-old and seven-year-old psychotics in several of the nursery schools. They were unofficial reports coming from his own observers; and the observers were not entirely certain of their facts; the local school staffs had acted immediately to remove the affected children, so that the seriousness of their condition could not be ascertained. It looked bad enough; it was, in fact, what Hair had expected and, recently, had feared. But he told himself that these might be isolated cases, that there might not be many more of them. If that turned out to be true, the matter conceivably could be ignored until the political climate again became more favorable to the government.

  Unless, of course, Oliver Wingfield heard of it . . .

  Wingfield apparently didn’t hear of it. His attacks during the next few weeks were directed primarily at the camps for ACCED’s teen-age subjects. Curtice’s group had volunteered no information on the incidents to Hair; and Hair did not press them for it. For a while, there was a lull in the reports of his observers.

  Then the reports began to come in again; and suddenly it was no longer a question of isolated incidents. An epidemic of insanity was erupting in the ACCED nursery schools, and Hair knew he could wait no longer.

  HE had come to the ACCED Building expecting to find Curtice and his associates evasive, defensive, perhaps attempting to explain away what could no longer be explained away. That they might have the gall even now to think that giving the project another shift would avert the storm of public criticism due to burst over ACCED as soon as Wingfield’s informants learned of the swiftly rising number of psychotic children in the nursery schools would never have occurred to him if he had not been warned by Eileen Randall’s manner. Even so, he felt shocked and amazed.

  The ACCED group might delude itself to that extent, he thought. But Wirt Sebert must be standing behind them in this. And how could Sebert show such incredibly bad judgment? Further, at so critical a time, Sebert would have conferred with Mallory before committing himself to giving Curtice further support, and Mallory must hav
e agreed to it.

  He could not believe that of Philip Mallory. Unless . . . George Hair stood frowning out of the window of the ACCED Building at the river curving through the valley below. Unless, he thought, Curtice had, this time, come up with a genuine breakthrough, something indisputable and of great and exciting significance, something that could not be challenged. Because that might still do it, stifle Wingfield’s declamations and dim the picture of lunatic children in the public’s mind. The public forgot so easily again.

  “Mr. Hair,” Eileen Randall’s voice purred from the doorway.

  Hair turned. Her mouth curved into a condescending smile.

  “Will you come with me, please? They’re waiting to see you now . . .”

  A hundred feet down the hallway, she opened the door to Curtice’s big office for him. As Hair stepped inside, he was barely able to suppress a start of surprise. Beside Curtice and Dr. Longdon, there was a third man in the office whose presence, for a moment, seemed completely incongruous.

  “Good morning, Felix,” Hair said. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  Felix Austin, Chief Justice and President Mallory’s right-hand man for the past five years, smiled briefly. He was tall and sparse, in his late fifties, almost exactly Hair’s age.

  “As a matter of fact, George,” he said, “I hadn’t expected to meet you today either. But I happened to be in the building, and when I heard you wanted to speak to Dr. Curtice, I thought I might sit in on the discussion. If you’d rather I’d leave, I shall do it at once, of course.”

  Hair shook his head. “No, you’re quite welcome to stay.” He took a seat, laid the briefcase he had brought with him on his knees. Eileen Randall sat down across the room from him, not far from Curtice.

  Hair’s fingers were trembling, though not enough to be noticed by anyone but himself, as he opened the briefcase and drew out three copies of a resume made up from the reports of his ACCED observers during the past six weeks. Austin’s presence, of course, was not a coincidence; and he wasn’t expected to believe that it was. He was being told that he should not count on Mallory backing him against Curtice today. He had suspected it, but the fact still dumbfounded him because he could not see Mallory’s motive. He looked at Eileen Randall.

  “Dr. Randall,” he said, “I have here three copies of a paper I should like the group to see. Please give one each to Dr. Curtice and the Chief Justice. Perhaps you and Dr. Longdon will be willing to share the third.”

  Eileen Randall hesitated an instant, then stood up, came over and took the papers from him. Austin cleared his throat.

  “We’re to read this immediately, George?” he asked.

  “Please do,” Hair said.

  HE watched them while they read. Austin frowned thoughtfully; Curtice seemed completely uninterested. Longdon and Eileen Randall exchanged occasional glances. Curtice finished first, waited until the others put down their copies.

  He said then, “These figures are remarkably accurate, Mr. Hair. Of course, we’ve known you had good men working for you. The current incidence is perhaps a trifle higher than shown.” He looked over at Dr. Longdon. “About eight per cent, wouldn’t you say, Bill?”

  “Approximately,” Longdon agreed.

  “We understand and appreciate your concern, Mr. Hair,” Curtice went on with apparent sincerity. “But as it happens”—his forefinger tapped the resume—“this is not a matter which need give any of us concern, although you were not in a position to know it. The situation was anticipated. We have been sure almost from the beginning that immature brains would not be able to absorb the vast volume of information forced on them by ACCED indefinitely, and that the final result would be the acute stress and confusion expressed in these figures.”

  “You were sure of it almost from the beginning?” Hair repeated.

  “I became convinced of it personally within a few months after I was brought into the project,” Curtice said.

  George Hair stared at him. “Then, in Heaven’s name, why—if you were certain of eventual failure—did you continue with these monstrous experiments for years?”

  “Because,” Curtice said patiently, “they were producing a great deal of information—information we absolutely needed to have, absolutely needed to test in practice.”

  “For what purpose?” Hair demanded. He looked over at Austin. “Felix, you’re informed of what these people have been doing?”

  Austin nodded. “Yes, I am, George.” His voice and face were expressionless.

  “Then supposing you . . .”

  “No, let Dr. Curtice tell it, George. He can answer your questions better than I can.”

  It appeared, Hair thought, that Austin was deferring deliberately to Curtice, to make it clear that Curtice was now to be considered the equal of either of them.

  “We needed the information,” Curtice continued, as if there had been no interruption, “for a purpose it would not have been advisable to make public at the time. It would have made much of the research we were planning virtually impossible, particularly since we had no way of proving, even to ourselves, that what we wanted to do could be accomplished. Even today, less than two dozen people are fully informed of the plan.

  “Our purpose, Mr. Hair, was and is the creation of a genuine superman—a man who will be physically and mentally as fully developed as his genetic structure permits. I have had this goal in mind for many years—it has been the aim of all my experiments with SELAM. When ACCED was formed, I saw the possibilities of incorporating its methods into my own projects. I went to Secretary Sebert and informed him of my plans. That was why I was made Director of the ACCED project. All ACCED’s activities since that day have been designed solely to supply us with further information.”

  “And how,” Hair asked, making no attempt to keep the incredulous distaste he felt out of his voice, “do you propose to go about creating your superman?”

  Curtice said, “An adult brain, and only an adult brain, has the structural capacity to assimilate the information supplied by the accelerated educational processes as it streams in. A child’s brain is not yet structured to store more than a limited amount of information at a time. It is developing too slowly to meet our purpose.

  “But, as the first experiments with ACCED showed, an adult brain, even the brain of a young adult, already has accumulated so much distorted information that the swift, orderly inflow of ACCED data again produces disastrous conflicts and disturbances. Hence the work with SELAM techniques during these years. We know now that a brain fully developed and mature, but with all memory, all residual traces of the life experiences which brought about its development removed from it, can be taught everything ACCED can teach, perhaps vastly more—it will be able to absorb and utilize the new information completely.”

  THERE was a long pause. Then Hair said, “And that is the story you will tell the public? That you can delete all a man’s present memories, subject him to the ACCED processes, and finally emerge with a new man, an ACCED-trained superman—who happens to have been the goal of the project all along?”

  “Essentially that,” Curtice said.

  Hair shook his head. “Dr. Curtice,” he said, “I don’t believe that story! Oliver Wingfield won’t believe it. And, this time finally, the public won’t believe it. You’re just looking for another lease of time to continue your experiments.”

  Curtice smiled without rancor, glanced at Austin.

  “Felix,” he said, “perhaps you’d better talk to him, after all.”

  Austin cleared his throat.

  “It’s true enough, George,” he said. “Dr. Curtice has proof that he can do exactly as he says.” Hair looked back at Curtice. “Does that mean,” he asked, “that you actually have produced such a superman?”

  “No,” Curtice said. He laughed, apparently with genuine amusement now. “And with very good reason! We know we can remove all memory traces from a human brain and leave that brain in undamaged condition and in extremely good wor
king order. We have done it with subjects in their seventieth year of life as well as with subjects in their fifth year of life, and with no greater basic difficulty. We also have applied modified ACCED methods to the five-year-old subjects and found they absorbed information at the normal rate of a newly born infant—much too slowly, as I have explained, for our purpose, but we have not applied ACCED methods of instruction to the adult memoryless subjects. We want supermen, but we want them to be supermen of our selection. That’s the next and the all-important stage of the project.”

  “Then,” George Hair said flatly, “I still do not believe you, and the public will not believe you. Your story will be put down as another bluff.”

  Curtice smiled faintly again.

  “Will it?” he asked. “If the Director of ACCED becomes the first subject to undergo the total process?”

  Hair’s mouth dropped open. “You are to be . . .”

  “And if,” Curtice went on, “Chief Justice Felix Austin has volunteered to be the second subject?”

  Hair looked in bewilderment from one to the other of them.

  “Felix, is this true?”

  “I fully intend to be the second subject,” Austin told him seriously. “This is a big thing, George—a very big thing! The third and fourth subjects, incidentally, following Dr. Curtice and myself by approximately two years, will be President Mallory and Secretary Sebert . . .”

  GEORGE HAIR sat in his study, watching the public reaction indicator edge up above the seventy-two mark on the positive side of the scale. Two hours before, just after the official announcement of the government’s Rejuvenation Program was made, the indicator had hovered around forty. The response had been a swift and favorable one, though no more favorable than Hair had expected.

  It was a little over five weeks since his meeting with Curtice and Felix Austin in the ACCED Building. Mallory’s and Sebert’s publicity staffs had been in full action throughout that time, operating indirectly except for an occasional, carefully vague release which no more than hinted at a momentous development to come. The planted rumors were far more direct. “Rejuvenation” was a fully established concept in the public mind days before the actual announcement; the missing details, however, were the sensational and unexpected ones—precisely the explosive touch required to swing the skeptical and merely curious over to instant support of the official program.