Dr. Braun hustled on. "You've had the average amount of education,
didn't quite finish high school. You make average wages working in a
factory as a clerk. You spent some time in the army but never saw
combat. You drink moderately, are married and have one child, which is
average for your age. Your I.Q. is exactly average and you vote Democrat
except occasionally when you switch over to Republican."
"Now wait a minute," Crowley protested. "You mean I'm the only man in
this whole country that's like me? I mean, you mean I'm the average guy,
right in the middle?"
Patricia O'Gara said impatiently. "You are the nearest thing to it, Mr.
Crowley. Actually, possibly one of a hundred persons would have served
our purpose."
"O.K.," Crowley interrupted, holding up a hand. "That gets us to the
point. What's this here purpose? What's the big idea prying, like, into
my affairs till you learned all this about me? And what's this stuff
about me getting something out of it? Right now I'm between jobs."
The doctor pushed his battered horn-rims back on his nose with his
forefinger. "Yes, of course," he said reasonably. "Now we get to the
point. Mr. Crowley, how would you like to be invisible?"
The three of them looked at him. It seemed to be his turn.
Crowley got up and walked into the kitchen. He came back in a moment
with an opened can of beer from which he was gulping even as he walked.
He took the can away from his mouth and said carefully, "You mean like a
ghost?"
"No, of course not," Braun said in irritation. "By Caesar, man, have you
no imagination? Can't you see it was only a matter of time before
someone, possibly working away on an entirely different subject of
research, stumbled upon a practical method of achieving invisibility?"
"Now, wait a minute," Crowley said, his voice belligerent. "I'm only a
country boy, maybe, without any egghead background, but I'm just as good
as the next man and just as smart. I don't think I like your altitude."
"Attitude," Ross Wooley muttered unhappily. He shot a glance at Patricia
O'Gara but she ignored him.
Patricia turned on the charm. Her face opened into smile and she said
soothingly, "Don't misunderstand, Mr. Crowley. May I call you Don? I'm
sure we're going to be associates. You see, Don, we need your
assistance."
This was more like it. Crowley sat down again and finished the can of
beer. "O.K., it won't hurt to listen. What's the pitch?"
The older man cleared his throat. "We'll cover it quickly so that we can
get to the immediate practical aspects. Are you interested in
biodynamics ... umah ... no, of course not. Let me see. Are you at all
familiar with the laws pertaining to refraction of ... umah, no." He
cleared his throat again, unhappily. "Have you ever seen a medusa, Mr.
Crowley? The gelatinous umbrella-shaped free swimming form of marine
invertebrate related to the coral polyp and the sea anemone?"
Ross Wooley scratched his crew cut and grimaced. "Jellyfish, Doctor,
jellyfish. But I think the Portuguese Man-of-War might be a better
example."
"Oh, jellyfish," Crowley said. "Sure, I've seen jellyfish. I got an aunt
lives near Baltimore. We used to go down there and swim in Chesapeake
Bay. Sting the devil out of you. What about it?"
Patricia leaned forward, still smiling graciously. "I really don't see a
great deal of point going into theory, gentlemen." She looked at Ross
and Dr. Braun, then back at Crowley. "Don, I think that what the doctor
was leading up to was an attempt to describe in layman's language the
theory of the process onto which we've stumbled. He was using the
jellyfish as an example of a life form all but invisible. But I'm sure
you aren't interested in technical terminology, are you? A good deal of
gobbledygook, really, don't you think?"
"Yeah, that's what I say. Let's get to the point. You mean you think
it's possible to make a guy invisible. Nobody could see him, eh?"
"It's not a matter of thinking," Ross said sourly. "We've done it."
Crowley stared at him. "Done it? You mean, you, personal? You got
invisible?"
"Yes. All three of us. Once each."
"And you come back all right, eh? So anybody can see you again."
The doctor said reasonably, "Here we are, quite visible. The effect of
the usual dosage lasts for approximately twelve hours."
They let him assimilate it for a few minutes. Some of the ramifications
were coming home to him. Finally he got up and went into the back again
for another can of beer. By this time Ross Wooley was wishing he would
renew his offer, but the other had forgotten his duties as a host.
He took the can away from his mouth and said, "You want to make me
invisible. You want me to, like, kind of experiment on." His eyes
thinned. "Why pick me?"
The doctor said carefully, "Because you're the common man, the average
man, Mr. Crowley. Before we release this development, we would like to
have some idea of the scope of the effects."
[Illustration]
The beer went down chuck-a-luck. Crowley put the can aside and licked
his bottom lip, then rubbed it with a fingertip. He said slowly, "Now
take it easy while I think about this." He blinked. "Why you could just
walk into a bank and...."
The three were watching him, empty-faced.
"Exactly," Dr. Braun said.
* * * * *
Frederick Braun stared gloomily from the hotel suite's window at the
street below. He peered absently at his thin wrist, looked blank for a
moment, then realized all over again that his watch was being cleaned.
He stared down at the street once more, his wrinkled face unhappy.
The door opened behind him and Patricia O'Gara came in briskly and said,
"No sign of the guinea pig yet, eh?"
"No."
"Where's Rossie?"
The doctor cleared his throat. "There was an item on the newscast. A
humor bit. It seems that the head waiter of the Gourmet.... Have you
ever eaten at the Gourmet, Patricia?"
"Do I look like a millionaire?"
"At any rate, a half pound of the best Caspian caviar disappeared,
spoonful at a time, right before his eyes."