Polymath by John Brunner Read Free Book Online Page B

of our people, Doc?”
    “Tell me your diagnosis,” Jerode invited sourly.
    “Remoteness from reality,” Lex said, unperturbed. “Not in any clinical sense, I don’t mean—not in the form of an overt psychological disorder. It’s a straightforward consequenceof the way we’re used to living.” He leaned forward a little.
    “Consider how detached most of us have always been from the necessities of life. Zara wasn’t a very wealthy planet; even so, it kept ticking along fine with its people putting in something like five hours a day four days a week in technical, managerial, supervisory tasks. And at that Zarathustrans worked harder than a lot of other people. Suppose we were from Earth, for example, where you’re absolutely free to opt for total leisure—where there’s so much available that it literally makes no difference whether any given person does any work.
    “Now look at those of us who’ve had responsibility devolve on us. What do we have in common? Nothing, as far as I can judge, except flexibility. We’ve adjusted more rapidly than the rest, and in each case you can see why. Fritch, a creative person used to seeing his ideas turned into hardware, willing if all else fails to use his own hands to make sure that goes on being true. Bendle, a research scientist who can let his lifelong interest in new flora and fauna drive him day after day. Cheffy, an amateur historian who has at least some comprehension of what life must be like if you don’t have automated factories all around you. Aldric, a model-maker, a craftsman born out of his time. And you, used to working on other people’s behalf. No, don’t deny it. Now you’re stuck with the job Arbogast couldn’t handle, and modesty is going to be a handicap.”
    Jerode studied Lex thoughtfully. This was an aspect of the younger man he hadn’t previously encountered. He said, “Curiously enough I was thinking about that just before the meeting.”
    “Not in connection with Nanseltine, by any chance?”
    “Yes. How did you guess?”
    “Didn’t guess. Smelled it coming, you might say. That’s why I said I’m glad Ornelle came along tonight. Because she’s typical of our human resources. You aren’t. Fritch isn’t. But I’m afraid Nanseltine is absolutely archetypal.”
    “I hope you’re very wrong,” Jerode said after a pause. “All I’ve heard from him lately—or from his wife, come to that—is a stream of complaints disguised as helpful criticism, and a lot of hypochondriacal disease symptoms. How he ever held down his continental manager’s post, I shall never know.” He hesitated.
    “But, speaking of the reasons for us winding up asmembers of the committee: how about you? If you disapprove of people being modest, I guess that entitles me to tell you that you possess the most original mind among us all. Item: you said you had no training for space, but when it turned out that that crewman had gone on ground-leave and not come back, you were the one who served as scratch crew, right? And I don’t recall any complaints from Arbogast. And you hit on the ropewalk, and I think it was you who realized we could adapt a spacesuit to dive in search of young Bendle, and—well, and so on. Now it’s got to the point where, if we hit a snag, we’re likely to go ask you for a solution instead of puzzling one out ourselves. Yet I realize I know practically nothing about you.”
    Lex laughed and rose to his feet, stretching. “Well, Doc, that’s not surprising. We were almost all total strangers, weren’t we? We just got thrown together.”
    “I think I might have a straight answer.” Jerode looked the younger man in the eyes. He had to tip his head back to do so. “You’ve explained why Fritch and Bendle and the rest of us are fitted to cope here. I’ve just explained Why you are. But—well, it can’t be nothing more than lack of ingrained prejudice about the way the universe ought to function! How old are you, anyway?”
    Lex