Short Stories by Robert A. Heinlein Vol 2 Part 87

O'Neil was annoyed at being disturbed and twice annoyed that they had used the emergency signal to call him to his disconnected screen.

'What is this?' he demanded. 'What do you mean by disturbing a private citizen when he has disconnected? Speak up

- and it had better be good, or, so help me, I'll sue you!'

'We want you to do a little job of work for us, Doctor,' Clare began evenly.

'What!' O'Neil seemed almost too surprised to be angry. 'Do you mean to stand there, sir, and tell me that you have invaded the privacy of my home to ask me to work for you?'

'The pay will be satisfactory to you.'

O'Neil seemed to be counting up to ten before answering. 'Sir,' he said carefully, 'there are men in the world who seem to think they can buy anything, or anybody. I grant you that they have much to go on in that belief. But I am not for sale. Since you seem to be one of those persons, I will do my best to make this interview expensive for you. You will hear from my attorneys. Good night!'

'Wait a moment,' Clare said urgently. 'I believe that you are interested in china -,

'What if I am?'

'Show it to him, Grace.' Grace brought the 'Flower of Forgetfulness' up near the screen, handling it carefully, reverently. O'Neil said nothing. He leaned forward and stared. He seemed to be about to climb through the screen. 'Where did you get it?' he said at last.

'That doesn't matter.'

'I'll buy it from you - at your own price.'

'It's not for sale. But you may have it - if we can reach an agreement.'

O'Neil eyed him. 'It's stolen property.'

'You're mistaken. Nor will you find anyone to take an interest in such a charge. Now about this job -,

O'Neil pulled his eyes away from the bowl. 'What is it you wish me to do?'

Clare explained the problem to him. When he had concluded O'Neil shook his head. 'That's ridiculous,' he said.

'We have reason to feel that is theoretically possible.'

'Oh, certainly! It's theoretically possible to live forever, too. But no one has ever managed it.'

'We think you can do it.'

'Thank you for nothing. Say!' O'Neil stabbed a finger at him out of the screen. 'You set that young pup Carson on me!'

'He was acting under my orders.'

'Then, sir, I do not like your manners.'

'How about the job? And this?' Clare indicated the bowl. O'Neil gazed at it and chewed his whiskers. 'Suppose,' he said, at last, 'I make an honest attempt, to the full extent of my ability, to supply what you want - and I fail.'

Clare shook his head. 'We pay only for results. Oh, your salary, of course, but not this. This is a bonus in addition to your salary, if you are successful.'

O'Neil seemed about to agree, then said suddenly, 'You may be fooling me with a colorgraph. I can't tell through this d.a.m.ned screen.'

Clare shrugged. 'Come and see for yourself.'

'I shall. I will. Stay where you are. Where are you? d.a.m.n it, sir, what's your name?'

He came storming in two hours later. 'You've tricked me! The "Flower" is still in England. I've investigated. I'll . . . I'll punish you, sir, with my own two hands.'

See for yourself,' answered Clare. He stepped aside, so that his body no longer obscured O'Neil's view of Clare's desk top.

They let him look. They respected his need for quiet and let him look. After a long time he turned to them, but did not speak.

'Well?' asked Clare.

'I'll build your d.a.m.ned gadget,' he said huskily. 'I figured out an approach on the way here.'

Beaumont came in person to call the day before the first session of the conference. 'Just a social call, Mr Clare,' he stated. 'I simply wanted to express to you my personal appreciation for the work you have done. And to deliver this.' 'This' turned out to be a draft on the Bank Central for the agreed fee. Clare accepted it, glanced at it, nodded, and placed it on his desk.

'I take it, then,' he remarked, 'that the Government is satisfied with the service rendered.'

'That is putting it conservatively,' Beaumont a.s.sured him. 'To be perfectly truthful, I did not think you could do so much. You seem to have thought of everything. The Callistan delegation is out now, riding around and seeing the sights in one of the little tanks you had prepared. They are delighted. Confidentially, I think we can depend on their vote in the coming sessions.'

'Gravity shields working all right, eh?'

'Perfectly. I stepped into their sightseeing tank before we turned it over to them. I was as light as the proverbial feather. Too light - I was very nearly s.p.a.cesick.' He smiled in wry amus.e.m.e.nt. 'I entered the Jovian apartments, too. That was quite another matter.'

'Yes, it would be,' Clare agreed. 'Two and a half times normal weight is oppressive to say the least.'

'It's a happy ending to a difficult task. I must be going. Oh, yes, one other little matter - I've discussed with Doctor O'Neil the possibility that the Administration may be interested in other uses for his new development. In order to simplify the matter it seems desirable that you provide me with a quitclaim to the O'Neil effect from General Services.'

Clare gazed thoughtfully at the 'Weeping Buddha' and chewed his thumb. 'No,' he said slowly, 'no. I'm afraid that would be difficult.'

'Why not?' asked Beaumont. 'It avoids the necessity of adjudication and attendant waste of time. We are prepared to recognize your service and recompense you.'

'Hmmm. I don't believe you fully understand the situation, Mr Beaumont. There is a certain amount of open territory between our contract with Doctor O'Neil and your contract with us. You asked of us certain services and certain chattels with which to achieve that service. We provided them - for a fee. All done. But our contract with Doctor O'Neil made him a full-time employee for the period of his employment. His research results and the patents embodying them are the property of General Services.'

'Really?' said Beaumont. 'Doctor O'Neil has a different impression.'

'Doctor O'Neil is mistaken. Seriously, Mr Beaumont - you asked us to develop a siege gun, figuratively speaking, to shoot a gnat. Did you expect us, as businessmen, to throw away the siege gun after one shot?'

'No, I suppose not. What do you propose to do?'

'We expect to exploit the gravity modulator commercially. I fancy we could get quite a good price for certain adaptations of it on Mars.'

'Yes. Yes, I suppose you could. But to be brutally frank, Mr Clare, I am afraid that is impossible. it is a matter of imperative public policy that this development be limited to terrestrials. In fact, the administration would find it necessary to intervene and make it government monopoly.'

'Have you considered how to keep O'Neil quiet?'

'In view of the change in circ.u.mstances, no. What is your thought?'