"If you've something to say, go ahead. I can hardly promise not to be
annoyed before I hear what the subject is."
"Thank you, sir. In trying to solve Hansen's Folly I engaged in some
physical experiment and measurement because I couldn't find any flaw in
the mathematical argument on the abstract scale. As you know, sir, one
of the ways to find out why something won't work is to try it. It isn't
often the easiest or the simplest, but it is often the only way."
"So go on. What happened?"
"Sir, my hardware works. So far as I can see, sir, there is no flaw! I
was right!"
"Commander Briggs of Research--"
"Sir, there must be some mistake."
"Silence! I'm not through! Commander Briggs seems to know more about
my personnel than I do."
"Sir?"
"First, he offered to bet me a dinner at the Officer's Club that you
wouldn't locate the flaw in Hansen's Folly by the time I made this
tour of inspection. Knowing that you'd probably have no other ambition
than to leave Eden, Tau Ceti, I snapped at this wager like a starving
dog latching onto a piece of steak. I have lost, it would appear,
which is only one dinner. But, Mr. Reed, when I accepted this wager,
Commander Briggs compounded it by offering to bet me a dinner for the
whole Bureau of Research that after not finding the flaw by means of
the academic analysis, you'd resort to experiment in hardware. Knowing
full well that you'd not have the temerity to divert Service Material
for your own tinkering, I accepted that wager also. Then to top it off,
Briggs added a bet of champagne and corsages for the officers' wives
that you'd complete your hardware and still not locate the flaw, and
that when I arrived you'd be firmly convinced that you'd proved your
point in theory and practice and that therefore you were right and the
rest of the known universe was wrong."
* * * * *
The commander took a deep breath under which he swore gently but
feelingly. Then he went on: "And so, Mr. Reed, I am going to be 'Guest
of Dishonor' at the Officers' Club. I will, according to custom, be
served the plate of baked synthetic beans whilst my contemporary
officers and their wives partake of a gourmet's banquet of natural
foods."
"Sir, I'm sorry."
"Being sorry is hardly enough!" The commander pawed through his
attache case until he came to a file-folder which he looked through
meticulously for several minutes as if justifying a carefully
considered opinion. Finally he made a lightly pencilled note on the
margin of one page and said, "Lalande 25372!"