Read Ebook: Vocation by Smith George O George Oliver Williams A Arthur Illustrator

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Ebook has 295 lines and 10915 words, and 6 pages

"Yes," nodded Andrew. "She'll be glad to see you."

"Then we'll be glad to come," said Gerd.

As he left, Gerd turned to his wife and said: "He'll bear watching."

"I caught your thought. He will. Shall I?"

"From time to time. Tremaine suspects. He is a brilliant man, Gaya, and for his own peace of mind, he must never know the truth."

"If he suspects," said Gaya thoughtfully, "it may mean that he has too little to do. There are many sciences--would it be possible to hint the way into one. That might occupy his mind enough to exclude the other question."

"In another man it might work. But Andrew Tremaine is not a physical scientist. He is a mental scientist working in an applied line. To give him the key to any science would mean just momentarily postponing the pursuit of the original problem. Were he a physical scientist, his mind would never have come upon the question in the first place. I'm almost tempted to let loose the initial key to stellar power."

Gaya blanched. "They'd destroy everything. No, Gerd, not that. You'd be defying the Ones."

"I know," nodded Gerd. "I have to continue for my own personal satisfaction. Giving in is the easy way--and entirely foreign to our policy. Terra must find their goal alone. You and I, Gaya, must never interfere. We are emissaries only; evidences of good will and friendship. Our position is made most difficult because of the general impression, held by all Terrans, that an ambassador is a man who lies to you, who knows that he is lying, and who further knows that you know he is lying--and still goes ahead and lies, smiling cheerfully at the same time."

"We've given good evidence of our friendship."

"Naturally. That's our main purpose in life. To befriend, to protect, even to aid when possible. One day, Gaya, Terra will be one of us. But guiding Terra and the Solar System into such a channel is most difficult. Yet, who is to do it but you and I?"

"Shall we request advice? Perhaps the Ones will be interested to know that Terrans are overly ambitious?"

"You mean they're too confounded curious? The Ones know that. The Ones put us here because we can cope with Terra--I'll make mention of it in the standard report--but coping with Terra is our problem, presented to us, and given with the expectation that we shall handle it well. To ask for any aid would be an admission of undisputed failure."

"I guess you're right."

Gerd smiled. "Honestly, there is no real danger. If we are capable of protecting them, we should be equally capable of protecting ourselves against them. And," said Gerd with an expansive gesture, "the Ones rate us adequate. We can do no more than to prove their trust. After all, our race has been wrong about a classification only once in three galactic years."

"I might be worried," smiled Gaya. "Isn't it about time for them to make another mistake?"

Gerd put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently. "Superstitious lady," he said, "that's against the Law of Probabilities."

"No," disagreed Gaya with a smile. "Right in accordance with it. When the tossed coin comes up heads ten million times without a tail, it indicates that there may be two heads on the coin, or that some outside force is at work. I was fooling, Gerd."

"I know," he said with a laugh. "Now enough of our worries. What's on the program this evening?"

"Dinner with Executive General Atkins and wife. Theater afterwards."

"I'd better dress, then," said Gerd. "Complete with all the trimmings. Toni Atkins would be horrified at the idea of dining without the males all girded and braced in full formal dress."

"Once dinner is over, you'll enjoy them."

"I always do," said Gerd. "They're both interesting people. Save for her ideas of propriety."

Gaya pushed him in the direction of the dressing room. "I do, too," she called after him with malicious pleasure. "And remember, that I'm just as they are--and not above them at all."

"I might be able to get the legislature to pass laws against women," returned Gerd thoughtfully.

"The result might be quite devastating," said Gaya.

The answer came back through the closing door. It was a cheerful laugh, and: "Yes, wouldn't it?"

Andrew Tremaine jerked the paper from the electrotyper and pressed two buzzers simultaneously. The answer to one came immediately: "Yes?"

"Tell Jackson that the editorial page is complete and that he should get the revised copy set up."

"Yes, Mr. Tremaine. It's on the way."

"Should be coming out of his typer now."

"I'll call him."

The door opened, and the answer to buzzer number two entered.

He was a tall, thin, pale-looking man with stooped shoulders and thick glasses. He came in and seated himself before Andrew's desk and waited in silence until the editor spoke.

"Gene, how many fields in psychology have you covered?"

The other shook his head. "Since I came to work for you, only one. Applied psychology, or the art of finding out what people want to be told and then telling them."

"That's soft-soapism."

"You name it," grinned the thin man. "You asked for it. Oh, we've carried the burning torch often enough--that's the other psychology. Finding out what people think is good for them and crying against it."

"Or both."

"Or both," smiled Gene.

"This is a crazy business, sometimes. I'm on another branch again, Gene. How much of the human brain is used?"

"Less than ten percent."

"Right. What would happen if the whole brain were used?

"Andy, what kind of a card file would you need to do the following: One: locate from a mention the complete account of a complex experience; two: do it almost instantly, and three: compile the data in five dimensions?"

"Five dim--? Are you kidding?"

"Not at all. Each of the five senses are essentially different and will require separate cards to make the picture complete. A rose smell, for instance, would be meaningless alone--you must classify it. The same card would not fit for all rose-smelling memories since some are strong, some are weak, some are mixed with other minor odors, and so forth. Do you follow?"

"Yes, but aren't we getting off the track?"

"Not at all. If your mind can run through ten to the fiftieth power experiences in five mediums and come up with the proper, correlated accounts, all in a matter of seconds--think what the same mind might be able to do if presented with a lesser problem."

"Why can't it do just that?"

"Because when you start to figure out a problem, something restricts your brain power to less than ten percent of its capability."

"That means that ninety percent of the brain is nonfunctional."

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