we might even have some minor instrumentation for you. How useful our facilities would be to you, I can’t say, but you might be able to do something.”
“Do you suppose I would have any means there of making observations useful to para-theory.”
“It would depend partly on your ingenuity, I suppose. Do you expect to prove the theories of this man, Lamont?”
“Or disprove them. Perhaps.”
“You’ll disprove them, if anything at all. I have no fears about that.”
Denison said, “It’s quite clear, isn’t it, that I’m not a physicist by training? Why do you so readily offer me working-space?”
“Because you’re from Earth. I told you that we value that, and perhaps your self-education as a physicist will be of additional value. Selene vouches for you, something I attach more importance to than I should, perhaps. And we are fellow-sufferers at the hands of Hallam. If you wish to rehabilitate yourself, we will help you.”
“But pardon me if I am cynical. What do you expect to get out of it?”
“Your help. There is a certain amount of misunderstanding between the scientists of the Earth and the Moon. You are a man of Earth who has come voluntarily to the Moon and you could act as a bridge between us to the benefit of both. You have already had contact with the new Commissioner and it may be possible that, as you rehabilitate yourself, you will rehabilitate us as well.”
“You mean that if what I do weakens Hallam’s influence, that will benefit Lunar science as well.”
“Whatever you do is sure to be useful.… But perhaps I ought to leave you to catch up with your sleep. Call on me during the next couple of days and I will see about placing you in a laboratory. And”—he looked about—“getting you somewhat more comfortable quarters as well.”
They shook hands and Neville left.
8
Gottstein said, “I suppose that, however annoying this position of yours may have been, you are getting ready to leave it today with a small pang.”
Montez shrugged eloquently. “A very large pang, when I think of the return to full gravity. The difficulty of breathing—the aching feet—the perspiration. I’ll be in a bath of perspiration constantly.”
“It will be my turn someday.”
“Take my advice. Never stay here longer than two months at a time. I don’t care what the doctors tell you or what kind of isometric exercises they put you through—get back to Earth every sixty days and stay at least a week. You’ve got to keep the feel of it.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.… Oh, I’ve been in touch with my friend.”
“Which friend is that?”
“The man who was on the vessel with me when I came in. I thought I remembered him and I did. A man named Denison; a radiochemist. What I remembered of him was accurate enough.”
“Ah?”
“I remembered a certain interesting irrationality of his, and tried to probe it. He resisted in quite a shrewd fashion. He sounded rational; so rational, in fact, that I grew suspicious. There’s a kind of attractive rationality developed by certain types of crackpots; a kind of defense mechanism.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Montez, clearly harassed. “I’m not sure I follow you. If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit down for a moment. Between trying to determine whether everything is properly packed and thinking about Earth’s gravity, I’m out of breath.… What kind of irrationality?”
“He tried to tell us once that there was danger in the use of the Electron Pumps. He thought it would blow up the Universe.”
“Indeed? And will it?”
“I hope not. At the time it was dismissed rather brusquely. When scientists work on a subject at the limit of understanding, they grow edgy, you know. I knew a psychiatrist once who called it the ‘Who knows?’ phenomenon. If nothing you do will give you the knowledge you need, you end by saying, ‘Who knows what will happen?’ and imagination tells you.”
“Yes, but if physicists go around saying such things, even a few of them—”
“But they don’t. Not officially. There’s such a thing as scientific responsibility and the journals are careful not to print nonsense.… Or what they consider nonsense. Actually, you know, the subject’s come up again. A physicist named Lamont spoke to Senator Burt, to that self-appointed environmental messiah, Chen, and to a few others. He also insists on the possibility of cosmic explosion. No one believes him but the story spreads in a thin sort of way and gets better with the retelling.”