A. van Vogt - The Voyage of the Space Beagle

Once more McCann stood frowning. Grosvenor saw that the young chemists were trooping out of the room at last. From the corridor came the sound of low laughter. It seemed to startle McCann out of his brown study. The geologist thrust out his hand and said, “How about coming up to my department one of these days? Perhaps we can work out a method of co-ordinating your integrative knowledge with our field work. We can try it out when we land on another planet.”

As Grosvenor walked along the corridor to his own bedroom, he whistled under his breath. He’d won his first victory, and the feeling was pleasant.

The next morning, as Grosvenor approached his department, he saw with astonishment that the door was open. A bright swath of light cut out from it across the more dimly illuminated corridor. He hurried forward, and stopped short in the doorway.

In his first glance, he saw seven chemist technicians, including two who had attended his lecture. Machinery had been moved into the room. There were a number of large vats, a series of heating units, and an entire system of pipes for supplying chemicals to the vats.

Grosvenor’s mind leaped back to the way the chemist technicians had acted at his lecture. He moved through the doorway, tense with the possibilities and sick with the thought of what might have been done to his own equipment. He used this outer room for general purposes. It normally contained some machinery, but it was primarily designed to channel the output from the other rooms for purposes of group instruction. The remaining four rooms contained his special equipment.

Through the open door that led into his film and sound-recording studio, Grosvenor saw that it also had been taken over. The shock of that held him silent. Ignoring the men, he went through the outer room and into each of the four special sections in turn. Three had been occupied by the invading chemists. That included, in addition to the film studio, the laboratory and the toolroom. The fourth section, with its technique devices, and an adjoining storeroom were completely unscathed. Into them had been shoved and piled the movable machinery and furniture from the other rooms. A door led from the fourth section to a smaller corridor. Grosvenor presumed grimly that it was henceforth to be his entrance to the department.

And still he held his anger, weighing the potentialities of the situation. He would be expected to protest to Morton. Somehow, Kent would try to turn that to his own advantage in the election. Grosvenor couldn’t see just how it would benefit the chemist in his campaign. But Kent evidently thought it would.

Slowly, Grosvenor returned to the outer room — his auditorium. He noticed for the first time that the vats were food-making machines. Clever. It would look as if the space were being put to good use, something which, it could be argued, had not been true before. The shrewdness of it challenged his own integrity.

There seemed little doubt as to why it had happened. Kent disliked him. In setting himself verbally against Kent’s election — a fact which must have been reported — he had intensified that dislike. But the chief chemist’s vindictive reaction, if handled in the proper manner, might be used against him.

It seemed to Grosvenor that he must see to it that Kent definitely did not benefit from his invasion.

He walked over to one of the men and said, “Will you pass the word along that I welcome the opportunity to further the education of the staff of the chemistry department, and that I hope no one will object to learning while he works.”

He moved off without waiting for a reply. When he glanced back, the man Was staring after him. Grosvenor suppressed a smile. He felt quite cheerful as he entered the technique room. Now, at last, he was confronted by a situation in which he could employ some of the training methods he had available.

Because of the way his movable cabinets and other equipment had been jumbled into a comparatively small space, it took him a little time to find the hypnotic gas he wanted. He spent nearly half an hour fitting a baffler to the spout, so that the compressed matter inside wouldn’t hiss as it poured out. When that was done, Grosvenor carried the container into the outer room. He unlocked a wall cabinet that had a grated door, placed the container inside, and released the gas. Quickly, he locked the door again.

A faint odour of perfume mingled with the chemical smell from the vat.

Whistling softly, Grosvenor started across the room. He was stopped by the straw boss, one of the men who had attended his lecture the previous night.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing.”

Grosvenor said mildly, “You’ll hardly notice it in a minute. It’s part of my educational programme for your staff.”

“Who asked you for an educational programme?”

“Why, Mr. Maiden,” said Grosvenor in simulated astonishment. “What else would you be doing in my department?” He broke off with a laugh. “I’m just kidding you. It’s a deodorant. I don’t want this place smelled up.”

He moved off without waiting for a reply, and then stood to one side watching the men for reactions to the gas. There were fifteen individuals altogether. He could expect five favourable reactions and five partially favourable. There were ways of telling how a person had been affected.

After several minutes of careful observation, Grosvenor walked forward, paused beside one of the men, and said in a low but firm voice, “Come to the washroom in five minutes, and I’ll give you something. Now forget about it!”

He retreated to the doorway that connected the outer room with the film studio. As he turned he saw Maiden go over and speak to the man. The technician shook his head in evident surprise.

The straw boss’s voice held a note of astounded anger. “What do you mean, he didn’t speak to you? I saw him.”

The technician got angry. “I didn’t hear a thing. I ought to know.”

If the argument continued, Grosvenor neither heard it nor saw it. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of the younger men in the next room was showing signs of sufficient response. He walked over to the man in the same casual way, and spoke the same words that he had to the first subject — with one difference: He made the time fifteen minutes instead of five.

In all, six men responded to the degree Grosvenor considered essential to his plan. Of the remaining nine individuals, three — including Maiden — showed a milder reaction. Grosvenor left the latter group alone. At this stage, he needed virtual certainties. Later he could try a different pattern for the others.

Grosvenor was waiting when the first subject of his experiment entered the washroom. He smiled at the man, and said, “Ever seen one of these?” He held out the tiny ear crystal, with its flanges for fastening it inside the ear.

The man accepted the little instrument, looked at it then shook his head in puzzlement. “What is it?” he asked.

Grosvenor commanded, “Turn this way, and I’ll fit it into your ear.” As the other obeyed without question, Grosvenor went on firmly. “You’ll notice, I’m sure, that the part facing outside is flesh coloured. In other words, it can be seen only on close examination. If anyone does notice it, you can say it’s a hearing aid.”

He completed the fitting and stepped back. “After a minute or so, you won’t even know that it’s there. You won’t feel it.”

The technician seemed interested. “I can hardly feel it now. What does it do?”

“It’s a radio,” Grosvenor explained. He went on slowly, emphasizing each word. “But you will never consciously hear what it says. The words come through, and go directly into your unconscious. You can hear what other people say to you. You can carry on conversations. In fact, you’ll just go about your normal business unaware that anything unusual is going on. You’ll forget all about it”