[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"Are you sure?"
Piercing gaze, hands tightening on the chair back. Alicia made herself breathe
in slowly. She had learned to beware anyone who dramatically leaned in toward
her in conversation, or who pushed things back across the desk at her, or sat
back and struck poses, or dressed a bit too carefully or adjusted the lighting
to favor them, or who even had their chair placed higher than hers. Usually
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this revealed a phony more concerned with appearance than accomplishment.
But the better bureaucrats combined all that with rhetoric and delivery, plus
telling arguments.
"I was pretty torn up about the failure. We just hauled everything
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GREGORY BENFORD ·
home. My students and I did not get a good idea of how strange this sphere was
until we studied it." All true, too.
"Ummm." More narrow-eyed scrutiny, though slacking off a bit.
"I could not help but notice that your colleagues do not even know you have
this object."
Couldn't help it, see. Somebody forced me to convene this special panel,
see... "No reason they should." No, too curt. Try some self-confession, maybe.
"I--I've been pretty scarce around the department lately. Getting my students
enthused about repairing our detector takes plenty of time."
"I had another call from the assistant director at Brookhaven just this
morning--"
"Brookhaven didn't make it. It was in my detector debris. So why's it theirs?"
Lattimer blinked. Deans spent their energies managing underlings'
appetites and getting money, not sipping from the heady wine of research
reports; perhaps Lattimer had forgotten that scientists could get passionate.
She blinked and seemed taken aback by Alicia's sudden gumption.
Carefully Lattimer said, "We must rise above feelings of ownership in such
matters," using a tone which Alicia realized probably came in quite handy at
fund-raisers, usually at the conclusion of a sech titled "Whither Science?"
Seeing no point in descending to the level of principle, Alicia said flatly,
"What are you going to do?"
The dean steepled her hands again and peered at her over them, her mouth
becoming a stern, flat line. Her excellent cheekbones caught the yellow
sunlight which was slanting lower, reaching into the hushed recesses of the
room. "I shall retain my informal committee to keep track of your progress.
Your argument, that this thing was in your detector, seems to have some minor
merit."
"I appreciate that."
"Have you considered safety?"
"Uh, yes. There's no apparent cause for concern."
"Good. I expect my panel will rule that you retain this object for
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share results with others in timely fashion." She had a concluding tone,
nodding.
Alicia felt that she could probably not have done any better than this;
Lattimer's panel seemed to be a tame animal, rendering whatever verdict she
liked. Soon enough Alicia was crossing back through the circular park, mulling
over matters. There was a difference of attitude here she could not quite
fathom. Sure enough, she had stretched the rules all along. But she had stayed
inside them--or thought she had--and that was what mattered.
Once in grade school she and some friends had wanted some bauble,
long-forgotten, but the way they decided who would get it had stuck in her
memory. A boy proposed that they each pick a number between zero and 100, and
he would compare with one he had already chosen. Her best friend picked 66,
another 78. Everyone seemed irked when Alicia naturally chose 65. "You
shouldn't get so close to my number? her best friend insisted. But to Alicia
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the point was to maximize her chances, so she captured the biggest fraction of
the numbers. "It's not fair," another said. When the boy revealed his number,
88, everyone seemed to feel that Alicia had been dealt a stinging rebuke,
another reaction she could not fathom. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]