Chapter 3

Scholar Norman Ross smiled at his host’s statement. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Harrison! Arranging these things so that we can maintain the Norm is often a delicate and arduous task. There are restrictions, and there are many variables involved, the most sensitive of which are the feelings of the people involved.”

“Your job must call for the ultimate in diplomacy,” said Mrs. Harrison.

To his host’s wife, Scholar Ross nodded. “Yet,” he said as an afterthought, “of even greater value is a high regard for the perfect truth. This includes the self-discipline of admitting it when one has been wrong, and being able to state precisely how, where, why, and, most important, to what degree.”

“I don’t understand,” said his hostess.

“Mrs. Harrison, let’s consider Bertram.”

She cast a glance at her son. In an earlier age, he would have been called “indolent.” During dinner, Bertram had employed the correct fork, plied his knife properly, conversed with his partners on both sides—yet she knew something was wrong.

“Bertram,” she said, “haven’t you been forgetting your pills?”

“Sorry, Mother,” replied the young man tonelessly.

Bertram arose and left, and Scholar Ross said, “This is what I mean, Mrs. Harrison. Genetics is not a precise science; it is statistical. We can consider highly favorable the mating of two well-balanced people, and we can predict that this union will produce well-balanced children. Unfortunately we cannot guarantee the desired results. Hence we have anomalies such as Bertram, whose problem is simply a lack of drive. Now this is no fault of yours, Mrs. Harrison, nor of yours, Mr. Harrison. It may be the fault of Genetics, but if it is our ‘fault, ‘ then the fault lies in the lack of total knowledge; but not in the misuse, or lack of use, of what knowledge we do already have.”

“I see what you mean, Scholar Ross.”

“You’ll also see the opposite when the Hanfords arrive. Here we have parents as stable as you two. You’ll pardon me if I say that if all four of your characteristic cards were dropped at once and I had been expected to render a considered opinion as to their most favorable mating combination, I could render no preference, so equal are you. However, your union has produced Bertram. Conversely, their mating has produced a girl who is wild, headstrong, willful.”

Bertram returned, seated himself quietly, and when Scholar Ross stopped talking, Bertram said apologetically, “I took a double dose, Mother.”

“Is that all right?” she asked Scholar Ross.

“Probably won’t do any harm,” he said.

Mr. Harrison cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that I approve of Bertram marrying a headstrong girl, Scholar Ross.”

Mrs. Harrison said, “William, you know it’s best.”

“For Bertram?”

“Now here,” said Scholar Ross, “we must cease considering the welfare of the individual alone and start thinking of him as a part of an integrated society. No man is an island, Mr. Harrison. In a less advanced culture, Bertram would have been permitted to meet contemporary personalities. Perhaps might have met someone who—as he does—lacks drive and initiative, and the result would have been a family of dull children. Had he been unlucky enough to marry a woman with drive and ambition, their children might have been normal, but the entire home life would have been an emotional battlefield. And that—”

“Isn’t that what you’re about to achieve?” asked Mr. Harrison.

“Not at all. We shall achieve the normal, happy children who will undoubtedly grow into fine, stable adults. To gain this end, of course, their home life must be happy and tranquil. We’ll prescribe for them—allowing for the emotional change that results from marriage and—”

The doorbell interrupted the scholar’s explanation. “Allow me,” he said, rising and heading for the apartment door. The Harrisons followed him at a slight distance. It was the Hanfords.

There was the full round robin of introductions and small talk: “You had no trouble?” “No, the intercity beacon was running clear—” “Lovely apartment, Mrs. Harrison.” “Mrs. Hanford, here in Philadelphia we feel that we’re almost in the suburbs.” “Got a treat for you, Hanford—been saving a bottle of natural bourbon!” “That’ll be a treat, all right!” “This is a real event. Scholar Ross.” “You know, Mrs. Hanford, the vidphone hardly does you justice!” “Why, thank you!”

“Miss Hanford, may I present Bertram Harrison?” “How do you do?” “I do as I please. What’s your excuse?” “Huh?” “Now, Gloria!“ “Bertram, show Gloria the flower room. Go on, now!”

Scholar Ross watched the young couple walk through a French door to an outside terrace. He turned to Harrison and said, “Everything set?”

Harrison nodded. “Had a little trouble with the Music people till I used your priority. They said they’d have Program R-147 piped into the flower room. Frankly, I think R-215 is better.”

Scholar Ross laughed gently. “Probably happy association.”

“Wife and I still have it piped in for our anniversary,” Mr. Harrison admitted.

“Good for you! But R-215 is for normal, happily well-balanced young people who’d probably fall in love without it. R-147 is sure-fire for emotional opposites.”

“Well, we finally got the program piped in, so what do we do now?”

Scholar Ross smiled quietly. “We wait. We get acquainted, because there is a very high probability that you two families will be united through the marriage of your children. Then I shall enter a new file in the Genetics Bureau of the Department of Domestic Tranquility. We shall watch through the years as your grandchildren grow, and make periodic checks, and thereby advance mankind’s knowledge of genetics.”

“Doesn’t this sort of master-minding ever give you a God complex?” asked Mr. Hanford.

“Not at all. Were I God, I’m sure I could arrange things a lot better.”

“In what way?”

“By Man’s own laws, we are prevented from doing active genetic research on the human race. We apply what happens to mice and fruit flies to the human family tree. We’ve known for centuries how to breed blue-eyed or brown-eyed people, or, if we wanted, we could make the race predominantly fat or thin, tall or short. However, our main aim is not the ultimate purity of any physical characteristic. Our goal is to produce a stable, happy people by eliminating the lethargic personality below and the excitable types above.”