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diff --git a/59267-0.txt b/59267-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f3fecc --- /dev/null +++ b/59267-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,643 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59267 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + The Laboratorians + + BY EDWARD PEATTIE + + _Playing "Napoleon" can get to be a + habit, especially when a man is devoted + to pure science. Which was Dr. Whitemarsh's + devotion--until Dr. Sally Chester came along!_ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1955. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +"Yeah, we drop in just three c.c. from this here tube," said Rocco as +he expertly twirled the erlenmeyer flask and watched the color shoot +past the methyl orange end-point. Whitemarsh was annoyed and said so. + +"That's the sixth straight you've missed, and the acid comes out of the +burette, not the tube; and you don't call the graduations c.c., you +call them milliliters." + +"Yeah? Well, here we call it a tube!" + +"And why don't you go down to the end-point drop by drop?" + +"Because the book don't say so! That's why! You technos make me sick. +Here we do all the blasted work, and you try to tell us how to do what +we've been doing for ten years!" + +Rocco was beginning to work himself into one of his famous rages. His +bull neck was beginning to redden; his eyes started to flash. His +entire squat body started to quiver. + +Whitemarsh wasn't impressed. Over at the atomic plant, Phobus's Quercus +Mountain, he had bossed a pretty quarrelsome crew of isotope wranglers. +He had never dodged a fight in his life. But this was in a chemical +laboratory and it surprised him to hear the assistants talk back. + +The only assistants he had ever known were clear-eyed youths taking +a year away from their studies to recoup their tuition money and who +tried to copy everything the chemists did. But Whitemarsh was new to +the Interspatial Research Center on the Moon, and he still could not +figure why the assistants acted as they did. So he waited. + +Rocco banged the flask down on the stone bench, glared at Whitemarsh +for an instant, and then rushed out of the Laboratory, muttering a few +obscenities. + +"Queer place this," mused Whitemarsh, filling up another flask and +finishing the titration himself. "Here the helpers tell the chemists +what to do and get mad if we ask them what they're doing." + +He started to look over Rocco's notes and ruefully decided all the +work would have to be done over again. He was interrupted when a girl +opened the door. In the week he had been stationed at IRC, he had been +introduced to so many scientists that he had forgotten most of the +names, but he remembered all the girls. His former Atomic Plant at +Quercus Mountain had had all too few for him not to appreciate them +now. Miss Sally Chester was a statuesque chemist with long blonde hair +and a luscious figure which she hid under a white lab robe. He managed +to stammer some sort of greeting. + +"Why Dr. Whitemarsh!" She seemed somewhat puzzled. "You're not actually +working with your hands?" + +"I sure am, unless we're both space struck. Why not?" + +"Well, I suppose it's all right other places, here we let the +Laboratorians do all the manual work. It's sort of their privilege." + +"Yes, but their technique's lousy. I sat here this afternoon and +watched that blow-hard Rocco muff six straight end-points in a row and +when I asked him how come, he blew his top!" + +She laughed at that. She sat down on the lab desk and said, "You're +absolutely right. Antonio Rocco's color blind and always misses his +Methyl Orange end-points. And he's been doing them for ten years. +But it hurts his feelings to be criticized, you should have been more +diplomatic. He's probably gone to complain to his boss!" + +"His boss? Aren't we his bosses? On this sheet he's listed as my +assistant." + +"Actually yes. But traditionally the shop foreman is the leader of the +Laboratorians. He certifies them to see that they know their work, +signs their time cards and tells them when to take time off. Of course +we outline the work they do, check their results and write reports from +their data. Normally we come into the lab as little as possible." + +"But Sally, how the hell do we know that their results are right? This +mixed-up outfit is in the hands of a bunch of left-handed prima donnas +who don't know Beilstein from Budweiser!" + +She smiled again (and he thought of the ads for Stargleam toothpaste). +"Let's go over to the Scientists' Snack Bar and get a cup of coffee, +and I'll tell you a little about the history of this laboratory." + +So he let her lead him out of the individual laboratory into the pastel +blue corridor where they followed the spiral runways to the glass +enclosed Snack Bar. + +Here they sat on pale leather chairs and looked out over the expanse of +the Central Laboratory. From where he sat, he could see a square mile +of magnificent equipment: Serpentine condensers, enormous distillation +columns, molecular stills, ultra-centrifuges, electron microscopes, all +were spread out before him. Surrounding the central laboratory were +the innumerable railings of the corridors leading to the individual +offices. Upstairs and downstairs strolled scientists and Laboratorians +respectively, all obviously contented. He turned to face Miss Chester +who was lolling in the chair beside him. She had poured him a cup of +coffee, given him a plate of rolls and was ready to talk. + +She reminded him that in 2005 it was found necessary to build research +laboratories on the Moon to avoid the guided meteorites which the +Aliens had been hurling toward the Earth. Since there had also been a +shortage of trained scientists, it was necessary to train apprentices +to operate the complicated laboratory equipment ... to perform +the operations without bothering themselves with the theory. The +Laboratorians were needed and they did a good job running specification +tests on all the equipment necessary for the interplanetary war. After +the war, the Interspatial Corporation had made it the Central Research +Laboratory, since this had been the largest aggregation of instruments +ever gathered together, and in the ten intervening years, the numbers +of college-trained scientists had increased almost ten-fold. As long +as the Laboratorians confined their work to the equipment they were +familiar with, they were unbeatable. To guide them they had the Book, +as the Technical Manual of the Interspatial Corporation was known, and +the Laboratorians followed its procedures to the letter. + +"But they don't know _why_ they're doing things," Whitemarsh +interrupted. "The manual's been in need of revision for the last five +years, and research workers don't use the same tests all the time!" + +"Well that's right," admitted Sally without disagreement. "I usually +have my particular laboratory instructions mimeotyped and bound in +a little book. I've also got the instructions so fixed that if they +do things wrong, I can catch them. And I've learned not to modify my +instructions orally. That only confuses the men and results in chaos. +With a little planning, you can get good work done, and if you don't +mind humoring their whims a little, there's no reason why you can't get +along with them." + +Whitemarsh wasn't so sure. He had no objections to jollying his +subordinates, but he did draw the line at sloppy lab technique. He +escorted Miss Chester to her own office, thanked her for the briefing, +and then started to worry on his own. He took the speed elevator up to +Dr. Sheridan's office. + +The Laboratory director was sympathetic. He looked at the +broad-shouldered young giant, Dr. Whitemarsh, and reflected that this +man was rated the most promising scientist the Interspatial Corporation +ever had. + +"You're damn right, Whitemarsh," he told the younger man, pushing him +into a chair and offering him a cigarette. "I've been here three years +and spent the first two fighting the system. Maybe the trouble goes +back to our Board of Directors. They're all so proud of this shining +Research Station on the Moon, that they hate to admit that anything's +wrong. They've got the Laboratorians responsible to the Lunar Mines +Service--and there it stands. + +"So the only thing we can do is wait. Lo Presti the Master Mechanic +is up for retirement next year and there's going to be a big +organizational shake-up. Hold tight. After that we may have a free +hand." + +So Whitemarsh thanked him and bided his time. He released Rocco back to +some other scientist and did his own laboratory work, even though the +Laboratorian Council made a written protest. He also spent many hours +in the excellent laboratory library, reading all the reports coming out +of the Lunar Laboratory over the past ten years. + +His discoveries amazed him. Theoretically the Lunar Lab had one of the +best collections of scientific minds in the Solar System. Every Earth +university was represented on its staff. New techniques and products +had poured out of the Laboratory during the ten years of its existence, +yet every one of these had been based on doubtful data. Certain things +worried him. First, notes were kept in a very cavalier manner even by +the most experienced scientists. Secondly, the younger chemists and +physicists never had been exposed to any practical laboratory work +after their student days, and consequently had no means of judging +the technique of their assistants. Finally, the Laboratorians were +apparently proud of their ignorance, displayed a contempt for "paper +work" and were only too willing to fix their results if they thought +they could get away with it.... + +He did not let his social development slide either. Lunarport was far +more advanced culturally than the crude settlement on Phobus. Here +Dr. Whitemarsh was able to have a luxurious apartment in the New Dome +sector, could hear lectures and concerts, and could even indulge in +winter sports such as skiing in the lava around the craters (protected +of course by a heated suit and an oxygen mask.) He found Miss Chester a +satisfactory companion for such endeavors, even though she spoke little +of her private life or how she had avoided marriage in her twenty-five +years. But he played a waiting game with her as well as with the lab +job. He admitted to himself that a research chemist's life at Lunar +Lab was a pleasant one, particularly if one didn't care how accurate +one's results were. Unfortunately, the same quirk which had driven him +into science also made him suspicious of all easy methods. He had never +recovered from the shock of discovering that just because a reaction +worked in a book, it did not necessarily have to do so in a laboratory. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Whitemarsh's promotion came within five rather than six months. +There was some grumbling among the older scientists, but there was not +much they could do about it. Kercheval, who had twelve years' service +on the Moon, did not have his Ph.D. and did not care particularly +for executive work. Neither did Sturtevant with a doctorate and ten +years service. But others objected; even Miss Chester, long one of +Whitemarsh's defenders, felt that the older men deserved at least the +chance of refusal. (It never occurred to Whitemarsh that she might have +had some ambitions of her own.) + +He called the group leaders together for a conference the day after +his appointment. He was now ensconced behind Sheridan's desk and was +not yet accustomed to having a secretary. The leaders came in grim and +resentful. He wasted no words. + +"I'm going to reorganize the set-up to get the Laboratorians under +us, whether they like it or not. This sloppy technical data and +unsubstantiated findings is not my idea of a good lab--nor yours, I'm +sure. It's up to you to show it during the next year. Meanwhile you've +all been pushed up fifty dollars a month in salary. So long!" + +His next step was to call on Lo Presti. The Master Mechanic's Office +was outside the Lab Dome near the Shaft of Lunar Mine No. 1. The old +man had been in the preliminary Selenium exploration party and never +could forget the old days when he drove the men and robots to find the +metal that paid for the cost of the Expedition. The President of the +Home Office, Dr. Barker, had never forgotten either, and Lo Presti was +always taken care of. The 200 Laboratorians probably caused him more +headaches than the five thousand miners ever had, since a delegation +visited him every day or so now that Dr. Whitemarsh was rumored in. + +But the Lo Presti knew that times change too, and realized that the +brawling space adventurer did not fit into a sleek world of test tubes +and retorts. Ninety-five years old and arrogant as ever, he sat in his +office and greeted Dr. Whitemarsh with a bonecrushing handshake. He +offered a cigar and Whitemarsh thanked him, lighting a pipe instead. + +"I hear from the boys you've been cracking down on them," he stated. + +"No more than you would if you'd been there yourself. What would you do +if a driller split a core?" + +"Why I'd give the careless sap a clout that would wake him up. But the +Laboratorians aren't drillers!" + +"That's right, but that's the way some of them are muffing their work." + +Lo Presti eyed him appraisingly. "Aren't you the same Whitemarsh who +capped the crater on Phobus last year?" + +"I sure am. And your Laboratorians are a bevy of Nice Nellies compared +to that mutinous bunch of space rats I had with me." + +"Well, maybe you're the man for the job at that. The guys don't put +out anymore. Used to be I knew all the gang. I'd look around and see +when they were goofing off. Now they're all such experts, I can't tell +if they're loafing or just thinking." They both laughed at that. +Whitemarsh thought it would be a good time to say: "I don't want to do +anything to your boys for a while until I get my own gang straightened +out!" + +"Don't kid me, Doc," responded Lo Presti, "you know when I retire +you're going to move in and crack down. Well I'm with you!" + +So they parted friends. + +Whitemarsh went back to his office in a happy mood. True, Miss Chester +had been avoiding him lately and he had to drink coffee by himself but +he now had the foremen on his side and the front office. Now was the +chance to reform the laboratory. + +His first bombshell was the requirement that all the junior chemists +should take a qualifying examination. That really caused trouble in +paradise. Apparently, all of the younger set had thrown away their +books on graduation and remembered only their own specialties. +Whitemarsh, from being a pleasant companion at the Snack Bar who +discussed skiing and spaceball, had now become an ogre of the first +water. The senior chemists chuckled, since they were exempt, and the +Laboratorians guffawed aloud to see their harriers in turn harried. +In any event there was frenzied activity in the month before the +examination and the library staff did yeoman duty. And, no one had +threatened to quit. At least almost no one. Whitemarsh was musingly +staring out of his office's Plastoid window at the green eye of Earth +when he heard a commotion outside in the ante-room. He looked out to +see Sally Chester, and he sensed that their relationship was less than +idyllic. + +"Let me see that egotistical ass, Whitemarsh," she shouted at his +secretary who cowered in silk clad finery as the white-coated Valkyrie +charged by. + +"Be calm," he advised her, placing himself strategically behind his +desk. + +"Calm," she screamed, "how can I be calm when an officious busybody +starts getting drunk with power and acting like a Twentieth Century +dictator? After all I've done for this stinking Lunar Lab, how come +that I have to take an exam in freshman chemistry?" + +"I thought you were exempt," began the chastened director. + +"Sorry, your honor! Your order says five years at Lunarport. I've only +been around this sweat shop for four years and six months. What are you +going to do if I fail? Throw me out and I'm moving over to Campo Sano +with every one of our trade secrets!" + +"I'll get you exempted," he offered. + +"What, and have the other chemists cry favoritism? Not on your life, +you coffee-swilling Judas," she yelled. "And stop grinning at me like a +Cheshire Cat!" + +He did not answer. He was content only to admire her in her rage. Her +usually mild face was flushed through the tan and her graceful hands +were tightly clenched into fists that pounded on his desk. + +"Answer me, you moron!" she shouted. Then she started to cry. Within +one minute the seething Amazon had changed into a defenseless +white-coated girl cowering in the visitor's chair, weeping bitterly. +Whitemarsh approached and held her hand. + +"Listen, Sally," he told her, "the only reason I was going to let you +out of the test was because you know more chemistry than any of the +scientists here. But go ahead and take the test; you'll get the highest +grade!" + +She brightened, "You think so?" + +"Know it," he affirmed gallantly, "now, how about going to the Space +Opera at the Symphorium tomorrow? Kluchesky is singing in _Pomme de +Terre_." + +She stiffened slightly and stood up. "Listen, Mr. Frank Whitemarsh! +Privately you're not a bad guy. You even had potentialities. But +you're a hell of a failure as a boss and the less I see of you, the +happier I'll be. Good-bye!" And she was gone. Whitemarsh resumed his +contemplation of the Earth with less interest. + + * * * * * + +The results of the examination might have been foretold. The +intelligent and professionally alert junior chemists retained enough +fundamentals to do well. The majority failed the questions on +laboratory technique. Consequently Whitemarsh enlisted the aid of the +older men to conduct a series of refresher lectures to bring up to +date the scientific knowledge of those who failed. The Laboratorians +were delighted with the spectacle presented by these lectures, and +loved going home at night while erstwhile bosses sat listening to Dr. +Sturtevant discuss "The Theory of Washing Precipitates", or to hear Dr. +Whitemarsh talk on "Balancing the Redox equation." The Laboratorians' +happiness lasted until one day in October. + +That was the day that Lo Presti retired. The old man was given a small +space ship by the Corporation and a space-time chronometer by the +Laboratorians. Then he sorrowfully said farewell. The next day the +Laboratorians were absorbed into Research. + +Somebody had to plan for janitor service, figure where to place time +cards, design new proficiency ratings and decide on such complex +matters as where the Laboratorians were to hang their coats. All these +services had been provided for by the miner's shop organization. +Whitemarsh stayed late at night for a week arranging the new payroll +plan and raising the salaries somewhat. + +All this was handled, if not without incidents, at least without +violence. Even the janitors and secretaries were now part of a team. +All but Miss Chester. She had stopped speaking to Whitemarsh in the +halls and had been seen in the company of a younger (and Whitemarsh +felt) better looking physicist. + +Then Whitemarsh dropped his second bombshell. The junior chemists were +ordered to rate the Laboratorians for proficiency! Fresh from six +months' study under such taskmasters as Whitemarsh and Kercheval, the +chastened scientists were now able to interpret the antics of their +tormentors of yesterday. An old tradition had fallen and the howls +extended back to the Front Office on Earth. + +For a change, Miss Chester did not object. She was evidently past all +comment. She merely wrote out a list of the faults and virtues of all +her assistants, rated them all Excellent and went back to her research. + +But Rocco was tried and found incapable of running titrations. Harry +Crowe was found to be weighing incorrectly, Zachary had been fixing his +calculations for the last ten years and even faithful Bruno had been +found to be adding 15 to all of his Iodine numbers in order to pass the +specs easier. + +It suddenly occurred to every one that all the laboratory's reports +were based on incorrect data. All work stopped for a week until the +scientists found what their assistants had been trying to do all along. +And the results were a bit terrifying. When Kercheval found that an +incorrectly calibrated reflectometer had negated five years of his pet +project, he tore up his notebooks, flung them on the floor and stalked +into Whitemarsh's office. + +"Frank, I'm taking my back vacations and going to Venus to forget it +all for about six months. And mind you, when I get back I don't want to +see my present assistants. I'm going to start from scratch." + +He left, banging the door. + +Next was Sturtevant. + +"Frank, we've got to get Interstellar Review to hold my last paper. I +want to recheck the melting points of some of those diazo compounds." + +Then came the young physicist, Dr. Slezak, who was rumored to be Miss +Chester's present skiing companion. "Dr. Whitemarsh," he stammered, +"I'm not sure about the data on my last report." + +"Didn't you take it all yourself?" + +"Yes, but I used some of Kercheval's data for my fundamental +calculations and, if that's wrong, all my conclusions may not be valid." + +"Stop worrying," Whitemarsh told him. "When Kercheval recalculates his +values, you can revise your own report. As long as your own work is +right, you have nothing to worry about." + +The young man left, nervously wringing his hands. Whitemarsh couldn't +see what Sally saw in him. He figured she ought to be along by now. + +She was. + +"I told you so," Sally said theatrically. "You've got the whole lab +mistrusting each other. All the chemists are quarreling like mad and +the Laboratorians all look like whipped dogs. You've pulled the chair +right out from under everything and you sit here gloating." + +"Relax, Sally," he told her. "They're just growing pains. Take it easy +and ride out the storm.... Now, how about tearing over to Lunar 7 to +see the crucial Spaceball series between the Space Rangers and the +Callisto Satellites?" + +She looked horrified. "I'm afraid you don't take hints very well. I'm +not interested in going anywhere with you. Actually, I'm going with +Jack Slezak to see 'Nova of the Leprous Soul', and I might suggest a +fit subject." + +She flounced out again and Whitemarsh felt lost. He tried to cheer +himself with a book on _Hyper Plutonium Elements_. + +The transition took longer than Whitemarsh had bargained for. After +the Laboratorians were re-educated, and a tiresome process it was, +chemists went over the notebooks to look for inaccuracies, doubtful +data was examined, all microfilms had to be edited and corrected; and +they found that most of the chemicals developed at the laboratory in +the past decade had been founded on doubtful data. But since all of +them had passed the Development Group, Whitemarsh didn't think it was +wise to try to recall them. But new products scheduled for release were +re-examined and retested after the fundamental work on them was checked. + +Finally the problems were unscrambled and the laboratory began to +run smoothly again. The research projects were reestablished and the +work started out anew. Frayed tempers were soothed and the scientists +finally got around to trusting each others' results again. The +Laboratorians were now carefully but tactfully watched by the junior +chemists who, in turn, were spending more time in the laboratories and +less in their offices. + +When the new, sound results started grinding forth, Whitemarsh +permitted himself a sigh of relief. Lunar Lab had lost its +individuality, he admitted, even though the easy-going camaraderie he +had noticed when he first came was also gone. The results of Lunar +Research Lab of Interspatial were now as reliable as those of the +_Campo Sano_ and _Roque_ laboratories back on Earth. + +But it had been a hard fight. None of the chemists ever stopped around +his office any more for small talk about sports and politics. His +secretary brought him coffee in his sanctum sanctorum and he did not +find himself wandering around the laboratory as he had formerly done. +When he did, there was usually a restrained silence and a suspicious +neatness. Miss Chester was apparently irrevocably lost and there were +rumors of an engagement with the brilliant Dr. Slezak. Though he had +won the day, he had lost something too. The Lab was now able to turn +out results, but Frank Whitemarsh had paid a personal price for its new +efficiency. + + * * * * * + +Almost a year after taking over as Research Director, Sheridan, now a +Vice President, brought him some news. "Get ready to pack, Frank," he +told the younger man as they sat and smoked in the director's office +watching the clouds moving over the Earth. + +"The Front Office like what I did?" asked Whitemarsh puffing on his +pipe. + +"Well." There was a slight pause. "All the scientists on the board are +behind you to a man. But the business men, the advertising boys and +accountants, well ... you know how they are." + +"What's eating them?" + +"The lab didn't release any new products this past year. Development +and even Advertising are pretty much slowed down." + +"That's right. We've got some good products about ready, but we're +making a final check before release. Don't you think we sent out a lot +of junk before?" + +"We sure did, even in my time though I tried to stop it. But the +development boys want something, anything." + +"Well?" asked Whitemarsh. + +"So they'd probably rather run the risk of getting something bad than +nothing at all." + +"They won't!" + +"That's right, they never will again. Now, I know that the products you +have ready are going to be good and I'm not worried about them. All we +have to do is keep the business geniuses out of our hair for another +six months." + +"And?" + +"So we're kicking you upstairs. It's a good job, don't worry about +that, at three times your director's salary." + +"What if I quit?" + +"Don't be that silly." + +"What's the other job?" + +"Works Manager at Quercus Mountain on Phobus. Sole boss of the biggest +Isotope Works in the Solar System. You'll have 50,000 men under you and +have a free hand at starting any kind of laboratory you want." + +"No Laboratorians?" + +"Right. You can start out from scratch and make the kind of lab you've +always dreamed of. Here we're thinking of pushing up Kercheval if +it's all right with you, you always rated him highly. It's just like +changing Spaceball managers. We all know the Space Sox won the pennant +last year on the team developed by Kanter even though Balhiser was +manager. These wolves will keep off our tail until the new products +start coming through and then we'll say we knew it all along." + +"You've got me half convinced not to quit," said Whitemarsh quietly. + +"Now listen Frank," came back Sheridan just as seriously, "you're too +good a man to waste. Now take your promotion like a nice boy and keep +in line." + +"I still think I did a good job here." + +"So do I, but the Board of Directors can't forgive those retractions, +even though you and I know they're necessary. They don't know what +scientific truth and pride are. Within ten years, on the foundations +you laid, we'll have the best research record in the country...." + +After Sheridan had left, Whitemarsh cast a last look at his former +domain. He called Kercheval in to give him the news and then tell him +to keep quiet until verified. Then he decided to take a last tour +around the laboratories. He finally found himself up at the Snack Bar +and his eyes were taking the same look over the Laboratory that they +had done two years before. The view looked about the same. He had +supervised the installation of a new Matter Probe over in the front +center and he was responsible for the Atom Analyzer, but these were +only minor changes. + +The major change, he thought bitterly, is that no one speaks to me +unless spoken to--I've become a pariah. Never tamper with the status +quo, it disturbs too many people. It's a very lonely job. + +There was no one else in the Snack Bar. At least, almost no one else. +He heard a discreet cough behind him. He turned and found Miss Chester +seated behind him. She had her legs crossed, a cup of coffee in one +hand and the Space News Want-Ads in the other. + +"Hello, Napoleon," she greeted him. "Have you just been surveying your +empire? Did you see the stern men of science jumping through the hoops +out there? Can you remember the happy place this was a year ago when +you came? Then the Laboratorians took pride in their work; now they're +flunkies for the green kids fresh from Alma Mater!" + +"Stop it, Sally," he told her. "You're not too far wrong on that +Napoleon business. I'm taking off for my new St. Helena, Quercus +Mountain on Phobus." + +"Quercus Mountain? That's a big place. Lab Director?" + +"No. Works Manager." + +"Heaven help the poor Atomic workers!" + +"Don't be that harsh. Dammit! Sally, maybe I am a Napoleon, but +scientific accuracy is too important to play fast and loose with, the +way they were around here. You know it. You're the only one who didn't +relax that vigilance--who saw to it that everything you turned out +was without error. I know now that I forgot the human equation--that +I was so eager for errorless research that I trod pretty roughshod +over a lot of people. But you're guilty too, you know, you had the +secret--you managed to balance the equation when everyone else here +didn't. Why didn't you help me? Sure, you came in and ranted and raved +at me--called me all sorts of names, but you didn't help me, you didn't +try to show me the way." + +"I--" + +"Let me finish," he interrupted her. "I love you, you know--have for +a long, long, time. I still need help, Sally. I don't want to keep +playing Napoleon and going into exile over and over again. A bigger +job with more men under me isn't the answer. When a man is lonely it +makes him hard and cruel in circumstances like that. I made all of you +here relearn scientific facts, I need to relearn the humanities...." He +paused for a moment. "Sally, will you teach me?" + +Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and a catch in her throat +made the words husky and half-whispered. "I wanted to help--I love +you too--but I thought you were arrogant and didn't need me--" She +swallowed, controlling a sob. "I'll make it up to you, darling. You +won't be alone again--on Phobus or anywhere else in the galaxy." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Laboratorians, by Edward Peattie + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59267 *** |