“Maybe we need a third pile,” said Berk. “Here’ a fellow who wants to know if we think we can help him get a patent on his super-cling shoes for cats, which can’t be kicked off.”
“He doesn’t need our help,” said Mart. “The Patent Office would grant that without a second thought! I got one like that, too. Some guy wants to patent a house suspended like a bird cage. Its rocking motion is supposed to cure neuroses of people who were never properly rocked in a cradle. But most of these offer us a pat on the back and wish us luck. How about your batch?”
Berk nodded. “Same here. Some of these guys are really bitter. Not the crackpots. Engineers mostly. The physicists seem a little less enthusiastic about what we’re doing. Most of them sound a little bewildered.”
“They would,” said Mart. “All their lives they have accepted the fact that the Patent System has no bearing on their work, so they aren’t even sure of what they ought to expect of it. When the bell finally rings and they catch on to what they’ve been missing, there’ll be a reaction!”
Don Wolfe called on the phone later in the day. “Baird ate it up,” he said. “It was just what he was looking for. It will be on his broadcast tonight. But that guy’s a first-class paranoid. It looks to me like it would be a good idea to get a bodyguard until this blows over. He’s, quote, out to make a public example of the intellectual selfishness that has hamstrung our nation for the past two decades, unquote. He’s just plain nuts.”
“That’s about normal for the type,” said Mart. “I think we can take care of ourselves. If you want me to, I’ll fix up some letters now. There shouldn’t be any trouble about finding a new job. I hope you’ll be available for testimony if this investigation goes through.”
“I will, don’t worry. And I won’t need the letters. I managed to pick up something on my own this afternoon. Let me know when I can help out the good work again.”
Don Wolfe had not exaggerated. As Mart listened to the television reporter in the evening he felt a little sick. Baird’s viciousness emphasized anew the magnitude of the thing they were combating. The Patent System was only a small fragment, he thought. Roots of the same malignancy penetrated deeply into every division of society.
But Baird succeeded, at least, in making the point Mart wanted him to make. He demanded Congress appoint a committee to investigate the rights of an individual to withhold knowledge of vital concern to the welfare of the nation, even though he couldn’t patent his discoveries.
“We know this information exists,” he said. “It exists in the mind of one man. Can we afford to let this man monopolize and bury these vital principles beyond the reach of the nation? I submit that this information is comparable to the resources of coal, oil, and atomic energy. We would not think of allowing a single individual to bar access to any of these. I call upon the Congress of the United States to investigate this intolerable situation and pass legislation at once which will correct it.”
The effectiveness of Baird’s appeal was demonstrated to Mart the following morning as he stepped into a taxi. The moment he was seated, the doors on either side opened, and two neatly dressed men sat down beside him. He felt the points of guns pressed against him on either side.
Somewhat sadly, he turned to get a look at each of them. There was nothing familiar except a certain thoughtless determination that could be associated with crusaders like Baird — or equally well with thugs who hoped to torture out of him his secrets for their own use.
With the point of his elbow, Mart pressed the control segment of the teleport belt and found himself sitting on the cornice of the apartment building watching the taxi jolt through the traffic below. He watched until it disappeared. He would have to get Carolyn and the children out of town, he thought. He had known the party would be rough, but he hadn’t anticipated it quite this bad.
He moved himself down to the apartment and faced Carolyn, who gave a start at his sudden appearance. “I thought you went to the office!” she said.
He told her what had occurred.
“Well, we’re not going to move somewhere out in the sticks,” she said. “That’s the craziest idea you’ve had yet. If anyone is going to kidnap us, they could do it ten times as easy out there as they could here in town. You would be worrying constantly about how we were. There's no sense in it. We’re staying right here until it’s over.
“The children are as competent in their use of the belts as you or I. And that reminds me, you are going to have to speak to Jimmy. His teacher gave him a scolding yesterday about his homework, and he teleported himself right out of class and back home. The teacher became hysterical, and it scared the other children out of their wits. I made him go right back. But you’ve got to warn him that it’s not to be used like that.”
Mart grinned at the thought of Jimmy’s teacher. But he sobered and admitted to himself that Carolyn was right. It would be foolish to send them away. The incident in the taxi still gave him jitters, however. Something would have to be done to speed things up.
When he finally reached the office, a couple of hours late, it looked as if that something had occurred. Berk handed him a telegram from Jennings.
It said, “Looks like you’re going to need help, boy. We’re going to give it whether you want it or not. Las Vegas has become the mecca of American physical scientists. The poor guys are losing their shirts. This thing has got to end. Following is a copy of the message we have sent to Washington:
“The undersigned believe it to be to the best interest of the nation that the suggestion be acted upon to investigate the claims and discoveries of one Dr. Martin Nagle, but not for the purpose of suppressing Dr. Nagle, and penalizing him, as has been suggested elsewhere. We ask that such an investigation allow Dr. Nagle to receive an impartial judgment concerning his claims and decisions.”
Below the name of Jennings were the names of sixty-five other leading physicists throughout the country.
Mart’s hand was shaking just a little when he put the paper down. “Quite a lot of names there of people I didn’t think would go along with us. Sort of gives you an idea of who your friends are, anyway.”
V.
With a speed that astonished Mart, this effort produced results. In less than two weeks a formal notification to appear came from a Congressional Committee for Investigation of the Intellectual Resources of the United States.
At Keyes’ invitation they stopped in at ONR upon their arrival in Washington. It was a dull, rainy day, and the first that Mart had spent in the city since his last visit to Keyes.
The director’s greeting was warmer than his last parting had been, but his face still held a frustrated expression, as if he would like to believe in them, but could not because of a lifetime of believing otherwise.
“They’re calling me to testify,” he said. “I wish you could tell me more of what you are trying to do. I want to be fair but it goes against the grain of all we’ve been taught since the beginnings of our scientific careers.”
They spent the remainder of the afternoon in Keyes' office. While the rain dripped steadily outside the window, Mart tried to make the older man understand their divergent point of view. He was not sure whether he had made it or not. Keyes remained noncommittal, but the uncertainty seemed to have been replaced by deep reflection. Mart hoped he would understand, because his testimony would mean a great deal to their case, one way or the other.
The first session of the hearing was scheduled for the following morning. It was called to order in a committee room filled with an impressive gathering which included more than fifty top-drawer scientists and research engineers. Mart recognized many as signers of the Jennings telegram.