The Common Man | Page 5

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.
Ross flushed. "Some of them did, confound it."
Dr. Braun had been taking in their debate, uncomfortably. As though in
spite of himself, he said now, "Very few, I am afraid."
"Religious ethic," Patricia pursued, relentlessly. "The greatest of the
commandments is Thou Shalt Not Kill, but comes along a war in which
killing becomes not only permissible but an absolute virtue and all our
good Christians, Jews, Mohammedans and even Buddhists, who
supposedly are not even allowed to kill mosquitoes, wade in with sheer
happiness."
"War releases abnormal passions," Ross said grudgingly.
"You don't need a war. Look at the Germans, supposedly one of our
most highly civilized people. When the Nazi government released all
restraints on persecution of the Jews, gypsies and others, you know
what happened. This began in peace time, not in war."
Dr. Braun shifted in his chair. He said, his voice low, "We needn't look
beyond our own borders. The manner in which our people conducted
themselves against the Amerinds from the very beginning of the white
occupation of North America was quite shocking."
Ross said to him, "I thought you were on my side. The Indian wars

were a long time ago. We're more advanced now."
Dr. Braun said softly, "My father fought against Geronimo in Arizona.
It wasn't so long ago as all that."
Ross Wooley felt the argument going against him and lashed back.
"We've been over and over this, what's your point?"
Patricia said doggedly, "The same point I tried to make from the
beginning. This discovery must not be generally released. We'll simply
have to suppress it."
* * * * *
The door opened behind them. They turned. Nothing was there. Ross,
scowling, lumbered to his feet to walk over and close it.
"Hey, take it easy," a voice laughed. "Don't walk right into a guy."
Ross stopped, startled.
Dr. Braun and Patricia stood up and stared, too.
Crowley laughed. "You all look like you're seeing a ghost."
Ross rumbled a grudging chuckle. "It'd be all right if we saw the ghost,
it's not seeing you that's disconcerting."
The air began to shimmer, somewhat like heat on the desert's face.
Crowley said, "Hey, the stuff's wearing off. Where're my clothes?"
"Where you left them. There in that bedroom," Ross said. "We'll wait
for you." He went back and rejoined his associates. The door to the
bedroom opened, there was a shimmering, more obvious now, and then
the door closed behind it.
"He rejoined us just in time," Dr. Braun murmured. "Another ten
minutes and he would have ... umah ... materialized down on the

street."
Ross hadn't finished the discussion. He said, his face in all but pout,
"What you don't realize, Pat, is the world has gone beyond the point
where scientific discoveries can be suppressed. If we try to keep the lid
on this today, the Russians or Chinese, or somebody, will hit on it
tomorrow."
Patricia said impatiently, "Good heavens, let's don't bring the Cold War
into it."
Ross opened his mouth to snap something back at her, closed it again
and shrugged his bulky shoulders angrily.
In a matter of less than ten minutes the bedroom door reopened and this
time a grinning Crowley emerged, fully dressed. He said, "Man, that
was a devil of an experience!"
They saw him to a chair and had him talk it all through. He was candid
enough, bubbling over with it all.
In the some eleven and a half hours he'd been on his own, he had
covered quite an area of Manhattan.
Evidently the first hour had been spent in becoming used to the
startling situation. He couldn't even see himself, which, to his surprise
affected walking and even use of his hands. You had to get used to it.
Then there was the fact that he was nude and felt nude and hence