"This caviar bit. Our friend, Donald Crowley, has obviously walked into
the Gourmet restaurant, having heard it was the most expensive in New
York, and ate as much as he could stuff down of the most expensive item
on the menu."
The elderly little doctor pushed his battered horn-rims farther back on
his nose. "Tell me, Patricia, when you made the experiment, did you do
anything ... umah ... anything at all, that saved you some money?"
Uncharacteristically, she suddenly giggled. "I had the time of my life
riding on a bus without paying the fare."
Braun snorted. "Then Donald Crowley, in eating his caviar, did
substantially the same thing. It's probably been a life's ambition of
his to eat in an ultra-swank restaurant and then walk out without
paying. To be frank," the doctor cleared his throat apologetically,
"it's always been one of mine."
Patricia conceded him a chuckle, but then said impatiently, "It's one
thing my saving fifteen cents on a bus ride, and his eating twenty-five
dollars worth of caviar."
"Merely a matter of degree, my dear."
Patricia said in irritation, "Why in the world did we have to bring him
to New York where he could pull such childish tricks? We could have
performed the experiment right there in Far Cry, Nebraska."
Dr. Braun abruptly ceased the pacing he had begun and found a chair. He
absently stuck a hand into a coat pocket, pulled out a crumbled piece of
paper, stared at it for a moment, as though he had never seen it before,
grunted, and returned it to the pocket. He looked at Patricia O'Gara.
"We felt that on completely unknown territory he would feel less
constrained, don't you remember? In his home town, his conscience would
be more apt to restrict him."
Something suddenly came to her. She looked at her older companion
suspiciously. "That newscast. Was there anything else on it? Don't look
innocent, you know what I mean."
"Well, there was one item."
"Out with it," she demanded.
"The Hotel Belefonte threatens to sue that French movie star, Brigette
whatever-her-name is."
"Brigette Loren," Patricia said, staring. "What's that got to do with
Donald Crowley?"
The good doctor was embarrassed. "It seems that she came running out of
her suite, umah, semi-dressed and screaming that the hotel was haunted."
"Good heavens," Patricia said with sudden vision. "That's one aspect I
hadn't thought of."
"Evidently Crowley did."
Patricia O'Gara said definitely, "My point's been proven. Our average
man is a slob. Give him the opportunity to exercise unlimited freedom
without danger of consequence and he becomes an undisciplined and
dangerous lout."
* * *
Ross Wooley had come in, scowling, just in time to catch most of that.
He tossed his hat onto a table and fished in his pockets for pipe and
tobacco. "Nuts, Pat," he said. "In fact, just the opposite's been
proven. Don's just on a fun binge. Like a kid in a candy shop. He hasn't
done anything serious. Went into a fancy restaurant and ate some
expensive food. Sneaked into the hotel room of the world's most famous
sex-symbol and got a close-up look." He grinned suddenly. "I wish I had
thought of that."
"Ha!" Patricia snorted. "Our engagement is off, you Peeping Tom."
"Children, children," Braun chuckled. "I'll admit, though, I think Ross
is correct. Don's done little we three didn't when first given the robe
of invisibility. We experimented, largely playfully, even childishly."
Patricia bit out, "This experiment is ridiculous, anyway, and I don't
know why I ever agreed to it. Scientific? Nonsense. Where are our
controls? For it to make any sense we'd have to work with scores of
subjects. Suppose we do agree that the manner in which Don Crowley has
reacted is quite harmless. Does that mean we can release this discovery
to the world? Certainly not."
Ross said sullenly, "But you agreed that we'd go by the results of
this...."
"I agreed to no such thing, Rossie Wooley, you overgrown lug. All I
agreed to do was consider the results. I was, and am, of the opinion
that if the person our politicians so lovingly call the Common Man was
released of the restrictions inhibiting him, he'd go hog wild and
destroy both society and himself. What is to prevent murder, robbery,
rape and a score of other crimes, given invisibility for anyone who has
a couple of dollars with which to go into a drugstore and purchase our
serum?"
Her fiance sighed deeply, jamming tobacco fiercely into the bowl of his
briar. He growled, "Look, you seem to think that the only thing that
restricts man is the fear of being punished. There are other things, you
know."
"Good heavens," she said sarcastically. "Name _one_."
"There is the ethical code in which he was raised, based on religion or
otherwise. There is the fact that man is fundamentally good, to use a
trite term, given the opportunity."
"My education has evidently been neglected," Patricia said, still
argumentatively. "I've never seen evidence to support your claim."
"I'm not saying individuals don't react negatively, given opportunity to
be antisocial," he all but snarled. "I'm just saying people in general,
common, little people, trend toward decency, desire the right thing."
"Individuals my ... my neck," Patricia snapped back. "Did you ever hear
of Rome and the games? Here a whole people, millions of them, were given
the opportunity to indulge in sadistic spectacles to their heart's
desire. How many of them stayed home from the games?" She laughed in
ridicule.