Mack Reynolds: Ability Quotient

Jim said, “You think we can get in?”

“Yes. If we have any trouble, the stink starts sooner than originally expected. From now on, we start throwing weight.”

They had no difficulty in getting into the penthouse. Evidently Katz, or someone, had instructed the building’s computers to admit them. They were the first to arrive.

Jim took his companion through the house.

“See? Don’t you get the unlived-in atmosphere?”

“Yes. I wonder in how many towns he has layouts like this.”

Jim said, “Well, think about it. If he’s got even part of the dope in his head that you and Jill are supposed to wind up with, it wouldn’t be hard to make all the dough in the world doing just about anything he wanted to do.”

Bert led the way back to the library and sat down before the phone screen. He put his Identity Card in the slot and said, “National Data Banks. Information. In what field did Professor Leonard Katz take his Nobel Prize?”

“In Gerontology.”

Bert Alshuler snapped off the set, and leaned back in his chair.

Jim, who had stationed himself at the bar and was contemplating the bottles there, evidently hard put to decide with which to treat himself, said, “What in the devil is Gerontology?”

“Stay away from that liquor, damn it. We can’t afford to be smashed. A gerontologist studies aging in man and how to avoid it. There hasn’t been a great deal published on the subject lately. At least, not much that’s been released through the news media.”

Jim poured himself a snort of Metaxa and returned with it to a chair in the room’s center. He sprawled in it and looked at Bert critically. “You know, old buddy, this super-education bit is beginning to get to you. You used to talk like a guy, an old pro soldier. Now you’re beginning to sound like some stuffed shirt. Where’d you pick up that cultivated accent bit?”

“Shut up,” Bert said sourly. “I’m trying to think.”

The others came in a group. It seemed likely that Katz, Marsh and General Paul had met Kneedler in the lobby and he had, probably defiantly, told them that he had been invited to the showdown. At any rate, when they entered he made a point of staying away from the other three.

Leonard Katz looked at Bert and Jim thoughtfully, Marsh in testy disgust. The general, as usual, was expressionless save for a quizzical quality in his eyes.

“Shall we all get comfortable?” Professor Katz said. “The bar is over there, if anyone would like a drink. Captain Hawkins, I see you have already anticipated my invitation.”

No one else was in the mood for refreshment.

When they were seated, the Professor looked at Bert and lifted his eyebrows ruefully. “It is your turn, my dear Alshuler.”

Bert said, “Your field is Gerontology, rather than the brain or education.”

“I never claimed otherwise. I took a Nobel Prize in Gerontology. However, I am knowledgeable in various fields.”

Marsh snorted humor, but no one looked at him.

Assistant Professor Kenneth Kneedler blurted, “Why did you gunmen have me brought here?”

Bert said, “You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to. I doubt if you’re head man of your group, but you are the only one I know of and thought you’d want to be represented.” He looked back at Katz. “You have given us the impression that Jill Masterson and I were the only two students on this new educational project, that we were more or less pathfinders, that the techniques aren’t fully worked out. However, I find that the same experiment is taking place in various universities all over the world. And I suspect that in each case the situation is duplicated. That is, one man and one woman. And I also begin to suspect that they are thrown into each other’s company deliberately, under circumstances that could lead to their becoming more… friendly.”

Jim stirred at that and scowled.

Katz said, “You possibly misunderstood, Alshuler. We do not deny that the experiment is taking place in a good many universities.”

“It’s gone beyond the need of more experimentation,” Kneedler blurted. “It should now be released to all.”

The general said gruffly, “Which would lead to chaos. It is true that the process has been developed to the point where release of it is practical. But it should be confined to the elite, those who are in a position to utilize it intelligently. It is, obviously, not for every Tom, Dick and Harry.”

Professor Katz held up a hand for silence. He said to Bert, “You’ve evidently been quite busy. What else do you think you have discovered?”

“That you, yourself, have probably gone through the procedure. I doubt if you discovered it; probably many scientists were involved. But you were possibly the first guinea pig, not people like Jill and myself. I have also found that our Ability Quotients weren’t as high as you led us to believe. Both of us were rather far down the list.”

Bert hesitated a minute, then looked at the general. “I think my first real clue came when I ran into a passage from G. R. Taylor in a paper he did entitled New Minds For Old . I think I can recite it. There is… the danger of creating an elite group, all the more dangerous socially because it will be genuinely an elite. Those who have been operated upon… may well feel a genuine kinship with other super-brains, and as a group the super-brains may tend to work for their own preferential treatment, even if they do not actually seek to take over the reins of power. There is the possibility that such an elite, having assumed power, should deny the treatment which produces intelligence to any but a minority, perhaps their own offspring, thus perpetuating a two-caste society… Even if we do not push the prediction to these extremes, we can see that the possibility of a have and a have-not group, intellectually speaking, in society is a real one.’ ”

He looked at General Paul. “That brought you to mind, General, and what you said about rule by an elite.”

“It’s the only kind of rule that makes sense,” the general said flatly. “A true elite. Today, the United States of the Americas. Tomorrow the world.”

“No!” Kneedler shouted. “It should be released democratically, to all!”

The general snorted contempt. “Nine-tenths and more of the common people neither could handle nor would want an I.Q. of 400 and an education far and beyond anything available today.”

Bert said to the general, “You’re right, of course. The elite should rule—I prefer the term ‘lead,’ in this present age. However, the question becomes, who are the elite? And it arises with each new generation. When man was under tribal society, the council of chiefs, elected from each clan, were the elite, and led the tribe. But the thing is, the moment they stopped being the best men to lead, they were no longer the elite and steps had to be taken to remove them from their positions. The same applied when kings and high priests ruled. As soon as they were no longer the best men, no longer the true elite, then they had to be overthrown, or society was in chaos. The same with feudalism. As long as the aristocrats were really aristocrats they could be, and should have been, tolerated, but as soon as they deteriorated, it was time for the revolt on the part of those who were really suited to rule, or lead.”

“What in the name of Cain are you driving at?” the general demanded.

“You obviously represent a group that think of themselves as the nation’s elite, born to command. But I wonder, particularly in view of what I know about your own abilities… and ambitions. Certainly, if you got your hands on this technique and could utilize it yourselves and prevent anyone else from doing so, you would become our ruling class and could maintain yourselves in that position indefinitely. No thanks, General.”