Mack Reynolds: Equality: In the Year 2000

Harrison snapped, “Fredric!”

Fredric Ley was seated directly across from Julian about twenty feet away. His right hand had already disappeared beneath his coat during the last few minutes of conversation. Now he brought out a revolver and directed it at Julian.

Julian contemplated him for a moment before unbuttoning his jacket so that the others could see that he, too, bore a gun.

He said conversationally to Ley, “I had already figured you for Harrison’s bodyguard. You said that you were in Vietnam…”

Ley rapped out, “Sean. Go get his gun.”

Julian shifted his gaze to Sean O’Callahan, who definitely looked uncomfortable. Julian said, “Don’t move, Sean, or you’re a dead man. God forgive me, I have enough dead men on my hands.”

Ley rasped, “I’ve got you covered, wise guy. We have some of our people in the data banks; we can have that tape wiped. And we’ve got you and can find a place to hold you for as long as necessary.”

Julian sighed and said, “If you were in ’Nam you probably stocked PX shelves. For one thing, that revolver you’re carrying is a thirty-two-caliber Colt. No combat man would ever carry one. I’ve been hit various times by more gun than that. Besides, I suspect you’re a lousy shot. I’m betting I can get this gun out and finish you before you can finish me, Ley. So any time you want to start shooting, go ahead.”

Dave Woolman said in horror, “You’re mad!”

Harrison ordered, “Take him, Fredric.”

Julian grinned confidently, seemingly completely at ease.

There were blisters of cold sweat on the bodyguard’s forehead and his face was pale. His gun hand trembled slightly.

Julian said conversationally, “You’re yellow, Ley. Either start shooting or drop that gun. I’m going to count to five. One… two… three…”

The pistol dropped with a thud to the carpet. Fredric Ley’s face was slack with fear.

Julian said pleasantly, “Any of you boys want to pick it up?”

Harrison alone even looked at the weapon.

Julian stood up and looked around at each of them in turn.

Finally, he let his eyes rest on their leader. He said, “I looked up some of those people of charisma, the great leaders that you said the computers would never have chosen for their Aptitude Quotient. Catherine the Great was only great in bed; she was a slob. Hitler was insane, and proved it; you’re right that the computers wouldn’t have chosen him—and shouldn’t have. Alexander the Great conquered Persia because his father, Philip, who would have been chosen by the computers, had built up an army that was the best and most experienced in the world; his son Alexander was a drunk. Grant was a second-rate general and a worse president. The North should have won that war in half the time considering their economy and larger population. Lee kept the fighting going a couple of years after it shouldn’t have been possible any longer. Lee, by the way, graduated top man in his West Point class and undoubtedly would have been chosen by the computers. Lincoln and Edison were both geniuses and self-educated. As Leete mentioned, they would have surfaced in any society.”

Suddenly he was tired. “The hell with it,” he said. “I’ll take the computer’s choices any day compared to you characters.”

He turned and left, knowing very well that none of them would go for the gun when his back was turned.

It was two weeks following the Society for Return to Civilization farce. The organization had dissolved before the laughter of the country as a whole when Julian’s taped conversation was played on the news. It was broadcast in its entirety, from the moment he had entered Sean O’Callahan’s apartment and one by one shook hands with each of the room’s occupants, to the point where he had finally turned his back on them contemptuously and left.

The three Leetes were seated with Julian in their living room.

Dr. Leete looked from Julian to Edith and back again. He said, “You two are in love, aren’t you?”

Martha looked up from her embroidery in mild surprise.

Edith said impatiently, “Don’t be ridiculous. Father. You know very well that a permanent relationship between Jule and me isn’t practical considering our different backgrounds. The gulf is too great.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Raymond Leete pressed. “The institution of romantic love isn’t as dead as all that. When I was Julian’s age I fell quite madly in love with your mother.” He smiled over at his wife, who smiled back but kept her peace. “And frankly, I still feel the same way. I don’t think that one generation is going to completely wipe the feeling away, despite all the changes that have taken place in the relationship between the sexes.”

He turned to Julian. “About six months ago, some colleagues of mine specializing in the human brain came up with a breakthrough. I’ll try and keep the terminology to that which you will be able to understand. It involves the transfer of accumulated knowledge from one person’s brain to another’s.”

Even Edith looked at him blankly. “I haven’t heard of it,” she said. “No mention has been made in the scientific news.”

“It hasn’t been tested.”

Julian asked, his voice trembling slightly, “Why not?”

“They’re afraid to test it on a human being.”

Martha asked, “It has been tested on animals?”

“Yes. First on rats. We took two sets of rats and trained them in different ways, using several sets for controls, and then put them in the device. It worked. That is, we were able to transfer the training of one to the mind of the other. The rat who acquired the knowledge immediately knew everything that his partner had ever learned.”

Julian phrased his question carefully: “Why are they afraid to try it on a human being?”

“Two days later, the rats who received the information artificially all went insane. The rats who had provided the information transferred were quite all right, and still retained the material themselves.”

Edith said, “So the experiments were discontinued?”

“No. They tried it next on rabbits with the same result: insanity ensued.”

Julian took a deep breath. “And then?”

“They tried it on a more complex life form, the dog. Once again, the transfer was successful, but the dogs involved went mad.”

It was Edith’s turn to say, “And then, Father?”

He looked at her. “They tried it on a chimpanzee, and once again it worked. But on this occasion the animal retained both its new artifically acquired information and its sanity.”

“And that is where the experiment is to date?” Martha asked.

“No. They next used two orangutans. Only two because that was all they could locate of the rather scarce anthropoid apes, which many authorities consider the most intelligent of the primates short of man himself.”

Edith said, “And it worked again?”