"Maybe they enjoy the crash when the blocks fall down."
"But that wouldn't make any difference, would it? The blocks still fall
down."
Melrose paced down the narrow room. "This is very good," he said
suddenly, his voice earnest. "You have fine facilities here, good
workers. And in spite of my flippancy, Dr. Lessing, I have never
imagined for a moment that you were not an acute observer and a
careful, highly imaginative worker. But suppose I told you, in perfect
faith, that we have data that flatly contradicts everything you've told
me today. Reproducible data, utterly incompatable with yours. What
would you say to that?"
"I'd say you were wrong," said Lessing. "You couldn't have such data.
According to the things I am certain are true, what you're saying is
sheer nonsense."
"And you'd express that opinion in a professional meeting?"
"I would."
"And as an Authority on psionic behavior patterns," said Melrose
slowly, "you would kill us then and there. You would strangle us
professionally, discredit anything we did, cut us off cold." The
tall man turned on him fiercely. "Are you blind, man? Can't you see
what danger you're in? If you publish your book now, you will become
an Authority in a field where the most devastating thing that could
possibly happen would be--_the appearance of an Authority_."
* * * * *
Lessing and Dorffman rode back to the Hoffman Center in grim silence.
At first Lessing pretended to work; finally he snapped off the tape
recorder in disgust and stared out the shuttle-car window. Melrose had
gone on to Idlewild to catch a jet back to Chicago. It was a relief to
see him go, Lessing thought, and tried to force the thin, angry man
firmly out of his mind. But somehow Melrose wouldn't force.
"Stop worrying about it," Dorffman urged. "He's a crackpot. He's
crawled way out on a limb, and now he's afraid your theory is going to
cut it off under him. Well, that's his worry, not yours." Dorffman's
face was intense. "Scientifically, you're on unshakeable ground. Every
great researcher has people like Melrose sniping at him. You just have
to throw them off and keep going."
Lessing shook his head. "Maybe. But this field of work is different
from any other, Jack. It doesn't follow the rules. Maybe scientific
grounds aren't right at all, in this case."