"It will keep themalive, perhaps even permitting minor wounds to heal, until I deliverthem to the authorities on Vinin. You see, sir, my little ship iswell-equipped." He slammed the round door of the hospital room shutand led Dirrul to the control blister.
"How long will it be, this trip to Vinin?" Dirrul asked, speaking veryslowly in classical Vininese. Like everyone in the Movement he hadstudied the language of Vinin as a sort of courtesy and duty but hehad no illusion about his small ability to handle it.
"In terms of your time," the pilot said, "about thirty days."
"Only thirty? The Planetary Union hasn't a ship that could make itunder sixty!"
"But this is a Space-dragon." The words were self-explanatory.
Proudly the pilot showed Dirrul the controls, as functional and asuncomplex as the cool clean lines of the ship herself. The design wasso logical, so basically simple, that within a few minutes Dirrulunderstood enough of the mechanism to have driven the ship himself.
"Your scientists could do as well," the pilot suggested, "if theywished."
"Not mine," Dirrul said.
"Pardon--the scientists of the Planetary Union. On Vinin we create forthe future, for the progress of the Confederacy. We have no patiencewith petty argument, tedious experimentation or the pointlesssplitting of hairs that seems to occupy so much of your time here. Forus a scientist is a producer, like everyone else. If he fails to dohis job we replace him."
Pleased with the comparison the pilot chuckled over his dials as heturned on the power. Above the roar he said to Dirrul, "We must talkagain one day, sir. If you ever have the good fortune to come to Vininbe sure to look me up."
II
As the Vininese ship shot smoothly out into the night sky, Dirrul'ssurface jet slashed back toward the Agronian capital. A synthetictension, which he deliberately fed with nightmare improbabilities,kept him reasonably alert until he had safely returned the jet to itsplace in the compound. Then weariness engulfed him. Groggily hestaggered to the pneumotube and within five minutes he was asleep inthe small two-room worker's apartment where he lived.
The insistent _ping_ of the door visiscope woke him. Dirrul glanced athis wall clock and saw that it was still early morning. He had sleptless than three hours. Swearing angrily he turned down the visiarm.Dr. Kramer's serene aging white-bearded face was mirrored on thegrey-tinted screen.
"Good morning, Edward," Kramer said with excessive cheerfulness. "Fora moment I was afraid I had missed you. I've brought a transcriptionof the lecture you missed yesterday."
Dirrul swung out of bed and pushed the entry release. Soundlessly thethin metal door slid into the wall and the little professor bouncedinto the room. The door shot back into place.
"But you're not dressed!" the professor exclaimed without theslightest regret. "I always supposed you Air-Command men had to reportfor work at eight."
"Yesterday I was out on emergency call," Dirrul said dully. "Fortwelve hours, so I've the morning off. I had planned to pound thepillow until--"
"Good! We can talk, then. I don't have a class until ten and I alwayslike to make the personal acquaintance of my students." Dr. Kramermade himself comfortable in Dirrul's Cloud-foam lounge, clasping hissmall, white hands over the little bulge of his belly. "Nice apartmentyou have here, Edward--excellent taste in furnishing."
"You don't mind if I shave and dress and have a bite of breakfast, Dr.Kramer?" Dirrul's sarcasm was quite lost on the professor.
"Do, by all means," Kramer said. "And you might order a pot of coffeefor me."
Dirrul touched a button and the bed rolled up into the wall--anotherand the gleaming metal shower-room slid open. He stripped and bathed,setting the aquadial so that his body was pounded by a sharp rain oficy water. When he snapped it off the massage arms shot out, rubbinghim dry with soft, plastic puffs. He sprayed the newly patentedNo-Beard Mist on his face and, after waiting the required threeseconds, wiped it off with a disposable fiber towel. The skin waspink and clean, refreshingly invigorated. When he took a fresh uniformout of the wall-press and put it on he felt very much himself again,scarcely annoyed by his lack of sleep.
He pushed the button and the bathroom rolled out of sight. The wholeprocess had taken less than five minutes.
At his panel-control Dirrul dialed a sizable breakfast for himself andcoffee for the professor. Before he could draw up chairs thegrey-topped table had rolled from its wall slot, the steaming foodcontainers fixed to it.
"The marvels of invention!" Dr. Kramer said. "When I was young we hadnothing like this. Many times, Edward, I had to prepare my ownmeals--and mighty skimpy ones they were too, some of them. A youngteacher in those days wasn't paid very much."
"You survived, Dr. Kramer," Dirrul reminded him dryly. "A little worknow and then wouldn't hurt us, either."
"That's the old argument, Edward. How we frothed and stewed over itwhen this new system was in its infancy! That was before your time, ofcourse." Kramer poured a cup of coffee and after a thoughtfulhesitation quietly took a slice of toast from Dirrul's platter. "Theysaid we'd create a race of helpless children--defenseless lazysofties. They said if the individual wasn't forced to fight for hisown survival, for the small comforts of life, he would die of boredom,drown initiative in luxury."
Dr. Kramer smiled--and took another slice of toast. "Like so many ofthe terrifying predictions of the Cassandras none of it came to pass.Today we're stronger and more vigorous than ever. Today we have morenew inventions, more new discoveries, more fine philosophical insightthan ever before in our entire history.
"Actually what we did was save time on the trivial routines so wecould spend our work-potential where it mattered. After all, what wasgained by a social system that forced me to spend so much of my energyfeeding and housing and clothing myself? Weigh the loss against thegreater contribution I might have made if I had spent the same time inresearch."
"Why, yes, Dr. Kramer--you could have given us the Cloud-foam lounge ageneration earlier," Dirrul said bitterly, "or perhaps the Safe-sweetcandy."
Again his sarcasm lost its savor, for the professor simply beamed andsaid, "Possibly, if that had been my field of interest. As it happensI'm a psychologist specializing in emotive linguistics--thesymbologies for conveying meanings." The professor smiled.
"Our present vigor and strength, no doubt, is reflected in the sort ofthing we do with all this extra time our gadgets give us--thescholarly research in the Arena or the Phonoview."
"You're being very uncritical, Edward. Under any social form a greatmajority of the people would spend everything on personal pleasures.Why not? Each generation produces only a few leaders--we simplyrecognize that fact and adjust to it."
"But without the incentive of personal gain, Dr. Kramer...."
The professor laughed uproariously. "Incentive! You amaze me, Edward.I haven't heard the word used in just that context since I was a boy.You're a throwback--an anachronism. You sound like one of the elderlyprophets of doom. I thought the breed had died out generations ago."The professor laughed again. "So our system creates no incentives.Tell me, Edward, why are you spending your Work-Equivs to take mynight course?"
"Because, when I've passed enough university hours I can take thepromotional test and become a full-fledged space-pilot."
"And still you say there's no incentive?"
"For myself, yes--but all of us ought to have the same kind of drive,"said Dirrul.
"Such a condition never existed, Edward. Always there have been a fewto make the inventions and the discoveries, a few to create the newdreams and frame the new ideas. Our people are no different. Incentivecomes from within the individual--it cannot be imposed from theoutside.
"The poorest sort of incentive, therefore, is economic need. Oursystem provides all our people with the basic necessities for everydayliving. Some few of us are content with these and never want anythingelse. But the great majority work to earn Work-Equivs, which they canspend as they please--on amusement, luxury, education or the races atthe Arena.
>
"Whatever the goal, it is a personal goal, set by each individual forhimself. It's the only kind of incentive that makes any sense. Takeyourself as an example--you spend your share of Work-Equivs onadditional education because you want to become a space-pilot. By thetime you've earned the promotion you'll have lifted yourself to aposition of leadership.
"As you are well aware the space-pilot is the politician--statesman isa better word--of the Planetary Union. Through his ingenuity, hisskill with languages, his psychological understanding of diverseracial groups, he holds our planets and peoples together, in one unionwith a common social
The Instant of Now Page 2