COUNSELOR (_sees the futility of it_): Gentlemen, I believe we can
proceed on the grounds of self-evidence. Let me read you a few titles
from these books. "The Cybernetic Principle: Advanced Theory" ... "The
Synapse in Function" ... and here we have "Synaptics: Pattern and Flux."
There are more, many more in similar vein. (_Turns abruptly._) Mr.
Arnold. I'm sure you are familiar with most of these volumes. On the
basis of the content, would you say that you could duplicate Beardsley's
feat?
ARNOLD (_aghast_): No! I would not presume to say that, sir.
COUNSELOR (_frowns; it was not the answer he wanted_): Very well, then.
Dr. Trstensky ... would you come forward, please? Dr. Trstensky ... you
are head of the Department of Advanced Cybernetics at Cal Tech. You have
had opportunity to study these graphs and charts in minutest detail--
TRSTENSKY: Oh, yes-s. Fascinating!
COUNSELOR: I put the question: would it be possible for you to duplicate
the grotesque feat that Beardsley performed on ECAIAC?
TRSTENSKY: Yes-s, possibly. No, I will say definitely. You mean, of
course, cold, from the beginning? Yes-s ... but it would take me
approximately three-to-four years.
COUNSELOR: Yes, Mr. Beardsley? What is it? You would like to make a
pertinent statement?
BEARDSLEY (_abashed_): Oh. It--I only wanted to say it took me longer.
Four-to-five years.
COUNSELOR (_wearily--just waits for laughter to subside_): Gentlemen, I
think we may safely wrap it up now. Our function here is Disposition.
Our choice is two-fold. One: the subject is sane, in which case he will
pay the supreme penalty for murder which he has freely admitted. Or two:
he is obviously insane, in which case he will be subjected to Psychic
Probe as provided by law, thus restoring a measure of normalcy
sufficient to place him again in society--restricted, of course--
DR. DOEBLER: Sir, one moment, if you please! I simply do not understand
your language, and even less can I condone your haste! _Safely_ wrap it
up, you said. What do you mean by that? Safe for whom? And "obviously"
insane--was that a slip of the tongue, sir, or are you trying to force
an issue here?
COUNSELOR (_coldly_): I must remind you that we already have competent
reports on subject's status. Add to that the facts presented here; they
are overwhelming; the man's own admission and attitude are
substantiation. It is my considered opinion, and I'm sure the opinion of
Council, that the man is insane. Subjection to Psychic Probe will
restore him to--
DOEBLER: Oh, yes, the Psychic Probe. I have no quarrel there. _But
suppose you were wrong?_ Have you ever considered the effects of Probe
on the _sane_ mind? Have you ever seen it? Once I saw it, only once. It
is worse than disaster--it is horrible--it results in a sort of psychic
tearing that heals and then tears and then heals in continuous
perpetuation. It--is indescribable. It is sub-human. Compared to that,
death or even insanity is a blessed relief. Now, gentlemen, listen! I
implore you not to be in error! True, it was my opinion that Beardsley
acted in fulfillment of the self-destructive impulse, but the man is
_sane--sane_, I tell you, and entitled to a humanitarian death! My
professional judgment--
COUNSELOR (_again coldly, glancing around_): Is welcome, but does not
bear final weight, sir.
* * * * *
Silence closed down like a pall. Doebler's plea by its very impassioned
nature had gotten through. It was a moment of embarrassment and
indecision in which each man weighed his conscience, and found it
wanting ... in which every member of Council looked to his neighbor for
solution or solace, and finding neither, turned back to himself, aghast.
Only one person looked to the true source and saw the solution as it
would be, as it had to be. Pederson. Heartsick with the knowing, he
observed Raoul Beardsley and remembered! This funny little man ... this
ridiculous man ... this proud man who had seized his fate and shoved it
through because it had to be done, because he obeyed the dictates,
because he had reached his Time of Assertion. Oh, Pederson remembered!
And most of all he remembered Beardsley there at the last, in that final
moment when ECAIAC had reached the wailing heights of sentience and
grief ... and how could he ever forget Beardsley's soundless whisper
that seemed to say, "_No, no ... don't you understand? ... we're friends
now!_"
Pederson remembered. He remembered, and looking up saw that Council had
reached equitable agreement, and his heart was sick and his soul was
sick as he realized this was final, there could be no appeal. For the
last time he looked upon Beardsley's face and saw that the man was fully
cognizant.... Beardsley also knew.... Deobler had been right. Pederson
turned his face away.
COUNSELOR: Now we are agreed, gentlemen? (_waits for general approval._)
Be it pronounced, then. Inasmuch as there exists a general area of doubt
as to Disposition; and inasmuch as it is agreed that further
deliberation would be prolonged and pointless; and inasmuch as our faith
in the ultimate function of ECAIAC remains inestimable, despite recent
vagaries which shall never occur again: be it therefore resolved, that
the problem pending shall be taped in all its detail and submitted to
ECAIAC for Final Disposition.