Read Online Polymath by John Brunner - Free Book Online Page B

and smiled regardless of which side they were on. Meantime, the former continental manager continued, “What I, and a lot of other people here, want to know, is why we don’t have the expert opinion of a spaceman instead of this—this amateur evaluation.”
    There was silence. Someone whispered, “Which spaceman?” The words carried, and Arbogast heard. With dignity, head erect, the old man—suddenly it was natural to think of him by that term—rose and faced Nanseltine.
    “Manager Nanseltine!” he said. “Perhaps you’re not aware of the condition of the
spacemen
among us! You seem aware of rather little of what’s going on here!”
    A ragged cheer commented on the rebuke.
    “I had four men in my crew! One had his skull cracked by a bale of goods that fell on him while we were clearing our holds to make room for you people! One is present, who had to have a leg amputated after frostbite. One was trying to inspect the ropewalk across the river ina gate, lost his grip, and fell into the water. No doubt he was swept out to sea and drowned. And one was on ground leave on Zara. That leaves myself, and Lex, who volunteered to work under me during our flight and in whom I, if not you, repose some confidence as a result.
    “I cannot deny, however, that I had intended to go down and inspect my ship. I didn’t do so, for reasons I—” His voice cracked, and he ended on a lower tone—“I would rather not try to explain. I will only apologize. Excuse me.”
    He lowered his head and walked away, out of sight as he turned the corner of the nearest building.
    Nanseltine had the wit to realize that if he pushed his line of questioning any further now, he would turn his audience against him. Making the most of a bad job, he said loudly, “Since the captain is prepared to trust Lex’s judgment, that will suffice.” And he sat down and shut up.
    Unfortunately not everyone else had that much grace. Rothers, the former computer chief, jumped up in his turn.
    “You mean we’re not even going to try to refit the ship and get off this—this pestilential mudball?”
    You could see the words hitting and hurting the useless ones.
    “It’s a heap of scrap—weren’t you listening?” called Cheffy.
    “Oh, be quiet!” chorused a dozen young voices. For a moment it looked as though the trouble were going to die down. But then—and Lex clenched his fists in impotent anger—Ornelle tossed fuel on the flames.
    “The party up on the plateau had a ship too,” she said. “That one can’t be under water. And we haven’t heard anything from them, so it’s likely they have no further use for it. Why aren’t you mounting an expedition to go and see?”
    That lunatic proposition snatched at the fancy of those who would rather delude than save themselves. At once a roar of excitement went up. People leaped to their feet—Nanseltine again, Rothers again, forty or fifty in all—demanding to be heard. In vain Jerode shouted for order.
    Lex bit his lip and looked toward Ornelle. Her face was very white and she met his gaze defiantly.
    He drew a deep breath and let out a sudden wordless bellow, so startling that everyone froze in surprise. Before they could recover he had lanced a question at Rothers.
    “The ship repair yard at your port—did it handle ships that size?”
    “Why—why, of course!” the man answered.
    “How big was it?”
    “Ah…” He licked his lips. “About a mile and a half square, I guess.”
    “How much of the operation was done by hand?”
    “Why—why, none, of course!”
    There was a laugh. It came from, of all people, Delvia. Obviously she had her wits about her.
    “Doc, a motion,” Lex said quickly. “I think this calls for a vote of confidence in the steering committee.”
    “Just what I was thinking,” Jerode said with relief. “Those who—”
    But he didn’t have to take a count. It was passed by acclamation, a majority of over two-thirds. Lex noticed, with interest, that it was