Prescription for Chaos

by Christopher Anvil

  The three men huddled around the little pale-pink pill, looking at it as Eve may have looked at the apple.

  There was a slight commotion, and they glanced around.

  Viola had passed out cold.

  Peabody went for water.

  "Women," said Hommel, "are illogical."

  "True," said Banner, "but why so, particularly?"

  "Well, she came through all that trouble. She didn't faint then."

  Banner nodded. "I see your point."

  They glanced back at the new pill.

  "She only faints now, when there's nothing to be afraid of."

  Is Everybody Happy?

  Morton Hommel, Ph.D., Director of the Banner Value Drug and Vitamin Laboratories, Inc., beamed proudly as old Sam Banner, the company's founder and president, sat back and squinted at the little bottle of dark-purple pills.

  "They what?" said Banner.

  "Eliminate the allergic response."

  "You mean, they cure hay fever?"

  "They do. And not only hay fever, but the entire spectrum of—"

  "Hold on a minute. They do cure hay fever?"

  Hommel got control of his enthusiasm.

  "They alleviate the distress. They . . . ah—"

  "Stop the sneezing?"

  "Yes—and the other symptoms."

  "How about the side effects?"

  "Well . . . there we have a—" Hommel hesitated. "There seems to be only one side effect."

  "What's that?"

  "Well, it's . . . nothing uncomfortable. No sensation of tightness in the head, or sleepiness, or anything that can be classified as distressing in any way. Quite the contrary."

  Banner set the pills on his desk.

  Hommel struggled on. "It's . . . ah—Well, it's unusual, and yet, it s highly bene—That is, it's a good side effect."

  "What is it?"

  "There's an extremely pleasant sensation of . . . well . . . friendliness and fellow-feeling. Possibly, to some extent, this is a reaction from the distress experienced by the allergic individual—"

  "If you've got hay fever and you take these pills, the pills make you feel friendly?"

  Hommel hesitated. "Yes."

  "Friendly toward what?"

  "Well—There's a pleasant slightly euphoric—"

  "Never mind the gold paper and fancy ribbon, Mort. You feel friendly. Is that right?"

  "Yes. It's a . . . very pleasant sensation of fellow-feeling."

  "Do you see things?"

  Hommel blinked. "What—"

  "Does the lamp post grow big violet eyes? Do you get swept off on a wonderful voyage of discovery, and learn the inner secrets of the universe, which evaporate after you get back?"

  "No. It's definitely not hallucinogenic."

  "You just feel friendly?"

  "Yes."

  "Friendly towards what?"

  "Well . . . it's hard to define. It's a sense of fellow-feeling. By no stretch of the imagination could it be considered a harmful side effect."

  "You think it's a good side effect?"

  "Frankly, yes."

  "Then let's nail down what it does."

  "I don't know how better to describe it than to say it's a sensation of warm fellow-feeling and friendliness."

  "You've taken the pills, yourself?"

  "Yes. And they relieved my hay fever completely. I'm sure if you'd care to try the—"

  Banner said dryly, "I don't have hay fever. Now, since you've tried it yourself—"

  "And we've thoroughly tested it. My report—"

  "Your report read like a banquet with all the delicacies—cooked in the cans. Kind of hard to digest."

  Hommel opened his mouth and shut it. "I don't know how else to express it. You feel friendly. We need more friendliness in the world."

  "Suppose you drive somewhere, and take this pill so you won't have hay fever?"

  "Your reactions to driving situations are perfectly normal. There's no falling off in reaction time, no sleepiness, no feeling of unreality. You do feel more friendly toward other drivers. You're more likely to be accommodating, and less likely, for instance, to try to beat them at the light. We find the drug makes the user, indirectly, a more careful driver. This isn't its purpose, of course; but I don't see how it could be considered a harmful side effect."

  "This feeling of friendliness—Do you feel friendly toward your car, for instance? Or just toward other people?"

  "Possibly it's correct to say that a man is incidentally more careful of his car. I suppose that might be interpreted as friendliness. But the inner sensation is a sense of fellow-feeling, for other human beings."

  Banner sat back and scowled at the bottle of small dark-purple pills.

  "If it were entirely up to me, Mort, these pills would go straight down the nearest drain. Unfortunately—"

  Hommel was astonished. "Why should we try to suppress this?"

  "The question is academic, because we can't. But bear in mind, we get paid for killing germs and easing pain. Uplifting human nature is not our line of work."

  "But—"

  "If we're going to stay in business, we can't ignore a money maker like this. But we're going to have to find out if we can get hay fever relief without incidentally making the customer feel friendly."

  "But why eliminate a good side effect?"

  "The customer isn't asking for it. The ideal drug does exactly what the customer buys it to do, and nothing else. He buys drugs to relieve an ache or kill a germ, not to have his head feel tight, to get sleepy, or to have green fur grow on his tongue."

  "This is different."

  "And, since we probably can't get rid of this side effect, we'll start work on an antidote."

  Hommel felt staggered. "Antidote?"

  "Right, Mort. An antidote. Just in case."

  Despite Hommel's objections, Banner insisted. Being the boss, Banner got his way. The problem itself proved as interesting as the original problem, so that Hommel soon forgot his objections.

  Meanwhile, the new drug appeared on the market, and Hommel exasperatedly read the label:

  Nullergin-20

  For relief of Allergy Symptoms. Take one to three tablets per day as required, to relieve symptoms of hay fever, or allergic response to dust, cat hair, egg white, or other causative agent. Nulllergin-200 is a new formulation, designed to overcome symptoms of allergic response to a wide range of substances. Like all drugs, it should be used in moderation. CAUTION: In some persons, Nullergin-200 has been found to apparently induce a sense of friendliness; discontinue use where this side effect is undesirable.

  Where, Hommel asked himself, would a sense of friendliness be "undesirable"? Then he shrugged. The main thing was, this blessing for allergy sufferers was on the market.

  The sales of Nullergin-200, with a minimum of advertising, picked up steadily. By hay-fever season, the cash registers were ringing all over the country. It was then that Banner called Hommel into his office.

  "How's that antidote coming?"

  "It's quite a complex problem. But we're making measurable progress."

  "Measurable progress? Well, put all the man power on it you need, because we're getting into a measurable mess."

  Hommel looked blank. "What do you mean?"

  Banner had several newspapers on his desk, and tossed one over. "Look at the headlines."

  Hommel read:

  ULTERIOR STRIKE SETTLED

  Management Yields After Long Struggle

  Banner said, "Take a look at that picture."

  Hommel frowned at a photograph of two men, the first grinning in triumph, the second smiling benevolently, with his arm around the other's shoulder. Behind them stood several rows of men, some smiling, some scowling, a few with handkerchiefs at their faces.

  Hommel said blankly. "I see it. But—"

  "Look at the part of the story that's circled."

  Hommel spotted several paragraphs marked in heavy pencil:

  Mr. Scharg explained th
at he wished the union well, and hoped the company would be able to offer a similar raise every year.

  Asked for his comment, Mr. Kraggenpaugh, the union representative, expressed contentment with the contract "for the time being. If the management had accepted this offer earlier, it would have saved everyone trouble. This proves they could have done it all along."

  Not available for comment was Maurice De Pugh, executive vice president, who earlier argued that accepting the union's demand would put the company out of business.

  Mr. Scharg's sudden reversal took everyone by surprise. The question now raised is how Ulterior, in light of the latest drop in sales, can afford a pay raise it rejected last year, when it was making a profit.

  Mr. Scharg's report to the upcoming stockholders' meeting is eagerly awaited.

  Hommel frowned, and looked back at the photograph. The man smiling in friendship was identified as Mr. Scharg. The man grinning in triumph was Mr. Kraggenpaugh.

  He studied the photograph more closely, and noticed that, of the men who had handkerchiefs raised, two apparently were blowing their noses, and one had his eyes shut, as if sneezing violently.

  Banner said, "Kind of an unusual thing, Mort."

  "It certainly is." Studying the photograph, Hommel could see a bulge in the pocket of Scharg's suit coat. It could be a pair of gloves. But who would carry gloves in hot weather? It could be a handkerchief. But Scharg did not look as if pollen were bothering him.

  Or it could be a pill bottle.

  Banner said, "Mort, this stuff doesn't put a man into a stupor, does it?"

  "No."

  "What happens if he takes an overdose?"

  "Well, the more he takes, the greater the . . . the effect."

  "The more pills he takes, the friendlier he gets?"

  Unwillingly, Hommel said, "Yes."

  Banner handed across another paper.

  Hommel was confronted by large headlines:

  KIDNAP VICTIM SAFE!

  Police Recover Youth

  In High-Speed Chase

  Father Hugs Kidnapper

  A photograph showed a well-dressed man pumping the hand of a tough-looking individual handcuffed to an astonished policeman. Hommel glanced at the text:

  ". . . But this is the man who kidnapped your son!"

  "I don't care," the boy's father told the police officer. "I just feel friendly toward everyone."

  Hommel looked up. "We don't know he was using our product."

  "Can you think of some other explanation?"

  "No." Hommel looked puzzled.

  "Neither can I. And here's something else I never heard of before." He handed Hommel a page torn out of a magazine.

  Reluctantly, Hommel took it, to see an advertisement showing a cheerful overalled figure holding an electric drill, a section of an article about a high-speed passenger train, a small ad for a suction-plunger to clean out drains, and finally a paragraph circled in heavy pencil:

  LONELY? NEED FRIENDS?

  Our method brings Guaranteed Results. No need to exchange photos. This is not a pen-pal club. This method is New and Proven. You pick who you want for a friend in advance. Then take our Mystery Substance and use it. That's all. Now you have a friend! Can be used on anyone. Sex, age, social class, do not matter. Sound great? It is great! Full instructions included. Send $2.25 to Friendly Universe, Box 250, Dept. W3 . . .

  Hommel looked up dizzily.

  Banner pulled open a desk drawer, took out a small stamped package, opened it up, removed a stoppered vial from a cardboard tube, and unfolded a large sheet of paper labeled: "Now—A Friendship Essence—Here are your Instructions!"

  Hommel swallowed hard, and read "Now, an ancient mystery from the mysterious East, but guaranteed by Modern Science, makes it possible for anyone—even you!—to have friends! And it is so easy! . . . Contained in this vial is the Mysterious Miracle Essence compounded from an ancient formula . . . some say the mysterious vital essences of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water are condensed into it by magically enchanted strictly scientific equipment . . . but we say only, it works, and it's wonderful . . . All that you need to do is buy a simple atomizer at any drugstore, and spray this Mystery Essence around the room before your chosen friend gets there. Or, you go where they are, and squirt it around when they aren't looking . . . The Mystery Essence will do the rest. It never fails! . . . There is no law against this. It is perfectly legal, and you are doing them a favor . . . The power of the Mystery Essence will secretly protect your chosen friend against hay fever, cold and poison ivy! Refills available at $2.25 each from Friendly Universe, Box 250 . . ."

  Hommel looked up in stupefaction. "Great, holy, leaping—"

  Banner said, "You see, Mort, it isn't such a harmless side effect, is it?"

  "I never imagined—" He stared at Banner. "Could you foresee all this?"

  "Not the details. But if you should come in here with a little pill that cured headaches, and had no side effects, and nothing wrong with it, except that if you hit it with a hammer it would blow out ten city blocks . . . well, no one might be able to foresee the details, but they could tell something would happen when it went on the market."

  "Yes, but this was friendliness."

  "Are you saying, Mort, that friendship isn't a power in the world?"

  "No. But—"

  "Then, you see, these pills exert power. Just as surely as if they were TNT."

  Hommel sat back in bafflement. "I see it. But it doesn't seem right."

  Banner nodded. "If these pills were used right, there'd be no great problem. Some people will use them just as they should. But I would bet you, Mort, that right this minute there are others mashing these pills into a fine powder, touching a match to the powder, and then sniffing the smoke to see what happens. If one of these people dives out a tenth-story window because he has turned into a bird, and another starts eating ground glass because he can't be hurt, who do you suppose will get blamed?"

  Hommel only nodded his head.

  "Right. Keep working on that antidote."

  Hommel did as he was told. Fueled by a large proportion of Banner's profits, the "antidote" project forged ahead at a strenuous pace. But Nullergin-200 went faster.

  As the hay-fever season ended, the common-cold season took over. It developed that Nullergin-200 eliminated most of the symptoms of an ordinary cold. Sales increased.

  Hommel, more and more immersed in his work, paid little attention to the outside world. But it was impossible to ignore it completely.

  On his way to work one morning, he nearly smashed into the car in front, which had stopped considerately in a long line of traffic to let a second car back out of an alley. The driver of the second car, in his friendly appreciation, walked back to thank his benefactor. As Hommel stared in disbelief, this first driver got out to shake hands, and the two beamed upon one another until some unregenerate ten cars back let go a long blast on his horn.

  Farther on, two small children were playing in the middle of the street, and all the traffic laboriously detoured around their cardboard tent. A large oil truck, in front of Hommel, had to back and fill to get around, and finally came to a stop. The driver, a large, tough-looking man in a worn leather jacket, walked over to the two children, bent down, and rumpled their hair. He smiled at Hommel in pure friendship.

  "You live for your kids. Right, Jack?"

  Hommel stared at the truck driver's massive shoulders, and snarled, "Right."

  When Hommel got to the plant, he was an hour late. He wasn't in a very friendly mood himself.

  Banner at once called him to his office.

  "How's that antidote coming?"

  "Our program would go a good deal faster if we had less socializing and more work."

  "Our own people are taking the drug, eh?"

  Hommel nodded. "They say it cuts down the symptoms of the common cold. That may be true, but—"

  There was a brief tap at the door, and Hommel glanced around. The door opened, and Ban
ner's secretary looked in, to gush, "Oh, Mr. Banner, I just had to come in for a minute, to say how much I do enjoy working for you."