Part 2

But it had been a hard fight. None of the chemists ever stopped around his office any more for small talk about sports and politics. His secretary brought him coffee in his sanctum sanctorum and he did not find himself wandering around the laboratory as he had formerly done. When he did, there was usually a restrained silence and a suspicious neatness. Miss Chester was apparently irrevocably lost and there were rumors of an engagement with the brilliant Dr. Slezak. Though he had won the day, he had lost something too. The Lab was now able to turn out results, but Frank Whitemarsh had paid a personal price for its new efficiency.

* * * * *

Almost a year after taking over as Research Director, Sheridan, now a Vice President, brought him some news. "Get ready to pack, Frank," he told the younger man as they sat and smoked in the director's office watching the clouds moving over the Earth.

"The Front Office like what I did?" asked Whitemarsh puffing on his pipe.

"Well." There was a slight pause. "All the scientists on the board are behind you to a man. But the business men, the advertising boys and accountants, well ... you know how they are."

"What's eating them?"

"The lab didn't release any new products this past year. Development and even Advertising are pretty much slowed down."

"That's right. We've got some good products about ready, but we're making a final check before release. Don't you think we sent out a lot of junk before?"

"We sure did, even in my time though I tried to stop it. But the development boys want something, anything."

"Well?" asked Whitemarsh.

"So they'd probably rather run the risk of getting something bad than nothing at all."

"They won't!"

"That's right, they never will again. Now, I know that the products you have ready are going to be good and I'm not worried about them. All we have to do is keep the business geniuses out of our hair for another six months."

"And?"

"So we're kicking you upstairs. It's a good job, don't worry about that, at three times your director's salary."

"What if I quit?"

"Don't be that silly."

"What's the other job?"

"Works Manager at Quercus Mountain on Phobus. Sole boss of the biggest Isotope Works in the Solar System. You'll have 50,000 men under you and have a free hand at starting any kind of laboratory you want."

"No Laboratorians?"

"Right. You can start out from scratch and make the kind of lab you've always dreamed of. Here we're thinking of pushing up Kercheval if it's all right with you, you always rated him highly. It's just like changing Spaceball managers. We all know the Space Sox won the pennant last year on the team developed by Kanter even though Balhiser was manager. These wolves will keep off our tail until the new products start coming through and then we'll say we knew it all along."

"You've got me half convinced not to quit," said Whitemarsh quietly.

"Now listen Frank," came back Sheridan just as seriously, "you're too good a man to waste. Now take your promotion like a nice boy and keep in line."

"I still think I did a good job here."

"So do I, but the Board of Directors can't forgive those retractions, even though you and I know they're necessary. They don't know what scientific truth and pride are. Within ten years, on the foundations you laid, we'll have the best research record in the country...."

After Sheridan had left, Whitemarsh cast a last look at his former domain. He called Kercheval in to give him the news and then tell him to keep quiet until verified. Then he decided to take a last tour around the laboratories. He finally found himself up at the Snack Bar and his eyes were taking the same look over the Laboratory that they had done two years before. The view looked about the same. He had supervised the installation of a new Matter Probe over in the front center and he was responsible for the Atom Analyzer, but these were only minor changes.

The major change, he thought bitterly, is that no one speaks to me unless spoken to--I've become a pariah. Never tamper with the status quo, it disturbs too many people. It's a very lonely job.

There was no one else in the Snack Bar. At least, almost no one else. He heard a discreet cough behind him. He turned and found Miss Chester seated behind him. She had her legs crossed, a cup of coffee in one hand and the Space News Want-Ads in the other.

"Hello, Napoleon," she greeted him. "Have you just been surveying your empire? Did you see the stern men of science jumping through the hoops out there? Can you remember the happy place this was a year ago when you came? Then the Laboratorians took pride in their work; now they're flunkies for the green kids fresh from Alma Mater!"

"Stop it, Sally," he told her. "You're not too far wrong on that Napoleon business. I'm taking off for my new St. Helena, Quercus Mountain on Phobus."

"Quercus Mountain? That's a big place. Lab Director?"

"No. Works Manager."

"Heaven help the poor Atomic workers!"

"Don't be that harsh. Dammit! Sally, maybe I am a Napoleon, but scientific accuracy is too important to play fast and loose with, the way they were around here. You know it. You're the only one who didn't relax that vigilance--who saw to it that everything you turned out was without error. I know now that I forgot the human equation--that I was so eager for errorless research that I trod pretty roughshod over a lot of people. But you're guilty too, you know, you had the secret--you managed to balance the equation when everyone else here didn't. Why didn't you help me? Sure, you came in and ranted and raved at me--called me all sorts of names, but you didn't help me, you didn't try to show me the way."

"I--"

"Let me finish," he interrupted her. "I love you, you know--have for a long, long, time. I still need help, Sally. I don't want to keep playing Napoleon and going into exile over and over again. A bigger job with more men under me isn't the answer. When a man is lonely it makes him hard and cruel in circumstances like that. I made all of you here relearn scientific facts, I need to relearn the humanities...." He paused for a moment. "Sally, will you teach me?"

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and a catch in her throat made the words husky and half-whispered. "I wanted to help--I love you too--but I thought you were arrogant and didn't need me--" She swallowed, controlling a sob. "I'll make it up to you, darling. You won't be alone again--on Phobus or anywhere else in the galaxy."