Read Online Methuselah's Children by Robert A. Heinlein - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert A. Heinlein
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jurisdiction in any member state-and I am acting under its authority. Now bare your arm, please."
"I refuse. I stand on my civil rights."
"Grab him, lads."
It took four men to do it. Even before the injector touched his skin, his jaw set and a look of sudden agony came into his face. He then sat quietly, listlessly, while the peace officers waited for the drug to take effect. Presently the Provost gently rolled back one of the prisoner's eyelids and said, "I think he's ready. He doesn't weigh over ten stone; it has hit him rather fast. Where's that list of questions?"
A deputy handed it to him; he began, "Horace Foote, do you hear me?"
The man's lips twitched, he seemed about to speak. His mouth opened and blood gushed down his chest.
The Provost bellowed and grabbed the prisoner's head, made quick examination. " Surgeon! He's bitten his tongue half out of his head!"
The captain of the Luna City Shuttle Moonbeam scowled at the message in his hand. "What child's play is this?" He glared at his third officer. "Tell me that, Mister."
The third officer studied the overhead. Fuming, the captain held the message at arm's length, peered at it and read aloud: "-imperative that subject persons be prevented from doing themselves injury. You are directed to render them unconscious without warning them." He shoved the flimsy away from him. "What do they think I'm running? Coventry? Who do they think they are?-telling me in my ship what I must do with my passengers! I won't-so help me, I won't! There's no rule requiring me to . . . is there, Mister?"
The third officer went on silently studying the ship's structure.
The captain stopped pacing. "Purser! Purser! Why is that man never around when I want him?"
"I'm here, Captain."
"About time!"
"I've been here all along, sir."
"Don't argue with me. Here-attend to this." He handed the despatch to the purser and left.
A shipfitter, supervised by the purser, the hull officer, and the medical officer, made a slight change in the air-conditioning ducts to one cabin; two worried passengers sloughed off their cares under the influence of a non-lethal dose of sleeping gas.
"Another report, sir."
"Leave it," the Administrator said in a tired voice. "And Councilor Bork Vanning presents his compliments and requests an interview."
"Tell him that I regret that I am too busy."
"He insists on seeing you, sir."
Administrator Ford answered snappishly, "Then you may tell the Honorable Mr. Vanning that he does not give orders in this office!" The aide said nothing; Administrator Ford pressed his fingertips wearily against his forehead and went on slowly, "No, Gerry, don't tell him that. Be diplomatic . . . but don't let him in."
"Yes, sir."
When he was alone, the Administrator picked up the report. His eye skipped over official heading, date line, and file number: "Synopsis of Interview with Conditionally Proscribed Citizen Arthur Sperling, full transcript attached. Conditions of Interview: Subject received normal dosage of neo-sco., having previously received unmeasured dosage of gaseous hypnotal. Antidote-" How the devil could you cure subordinates of wordiness? Was there something in the soul of a career civil servant that cherished red tape? His eye skipped on down:
"-stated that his name was Arthur Sperling of the Foote Family and gave his age as one hundred thirty-seven years. (Subject's apparent age is forty-five plus-or-minus four: see bio report attached.) Subject admitted that he was a member of the Howard Families. He stated that the Families numbered slightly more than one hundred thousand members. He was asked to correct this and it was suggested to him that the correct number was nearer ten thousand. He persisted in his original statement."
The Administrator stopped and reread this part.
He skipped on down, looking for the key part: "-insisted that his long life was the result of his ancestry and had no other cause. Admitted that artificial means had been used to
"I refuse. I stand on my civil rights."
"Grab him, lads."
It took four men to do it. Even before the injector touched his skin, his jaw set and a look of sudden agony came into his face. He then sat quietly, listlessly, while the peace officers waited for the drug to take effect. Presently the Provost gently rolled back one of the prisoner's eyelids and said, "I think he's ready. He doesn't weigh over ten stone; it has hit him rather fast. Where's that list of questions?"
A deputy handed it to him; he began, "Horace Foote, do you hear me?"
The man's lips twitched, he seemed about to speak. His mouth opened and blood gushed down his chest.
The Provost bellowed and grabbed the prisoner's head, made quick examination. " Surgeon! He's bitten his tongue half out of his head!"
The captain of the Luna City Shuttle Moonbeam scowled at the message in his hand. "What child's play is this?" He glared at his third officer. "Tell me that, Mister."
The third officer studied the overhead. Fuming, the captain held the message at arm's length, peered at it and read aloud: "-imperative that subject persons be prevented from doing themselves injury. You are directed to render them unconscious without warning them." He shoved the flimsy away from him. "What do they think I'm running? Coventry? Who do they think they are?-telling me in my ship what I must do with my passengers! I won't-so help me, I won't! There's no rule requiring me to . . . is there, Mister?"
The third officer went on silently studying the ship's structure.
The captain stopped pacing. "Purser! Purser! Why is that man never around when I want him?"
"I'm here, Captain."
"About time!"
"I've been here all along, sir."
"Don't argue with me. Here-attend to this." He handed the despatch to the purser and left.
A shipfitter, supervised by the purser, the hull officer, and the medical officer, made a slight change in the air-conditioning ducts to one cabin; two worried passengers sloughed off their cares under the influence of a non-lethal dose of sleeping gas.
"Another report, sir."
"Leave it," the Administrator said in a tired voice. "And Councilor Bork Vanning presents his compliments and requests an interview."
"Tell him that I regret that I am too busy."
"He insists on seeing you, sir."
Administrator Ford answered snappishly, "Then you may tell the Honorable Mr. Vanning that he does not give orders in this office!" The aide said nothing; Administrator Ford pressed his fingertips wearily against his forehead and went on slowly, "No, Gerry, don't tell him that. Be diplomatic . . . but don't let him in."
"Yes, sir."
When he was alone, the Administrator picked up the report. His eye skipped over official heading, date line, and file number: "Synopsis of Interview with Conditionally Proscribed Citizen Arthur Sperling, full transcript attached. Conditions of Interview: Subject received normal dosage of neo-sco., having previously received unmeasured dosage of gaseous hypnotal. Antidote-" How the devil could you cure subordinates of wordiness? Was there something in the soul of a career civil servant that cherished red tape? His eye skipped on down:
"-stated that his name was Arthur Sperling of the Foote Family and gave his age as one hundred thirty-seven years. (Subject's apparent age is forty-five plus-or-minus four: see bio report attached.) Subject admitted that he was a member of the Howard Families. He stated that the Families numbered slightly more than one hundred thousand members. He was asked to correct this and it was suggested to him that the correct number was nearer ten thousand. He persisted in his original statement."
The Administrator stopped and reread this part.
He skipped on down, looking for the key part: "-insisted that his long life was the result of his ancestry and had no other cause. Admitted that artificial means had been used to
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