The Fourth R

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  If Paul Brennan found himself blocked in his efforts to find James Holdenand the re-created Holden Educator, James himself was annoyed by oneevident fact: Everything he did resulted in spreading the news of themachine itself.

  Had he been eighteen or so, he might have made out to his own taste. Inthe days of late teen-age, a youth can hold a job and rent a room, buyhis own clothing and conduct himself to the limit of his ability. At tenhe is suspect, because no one will permit him to paddle his own canoe. Ata later age James could have rented a small apartment and built hismachine alone. But starting as young as he did, he was forced to hidebehind the cover of some adult, and he had picked Mrs. Bagley because hecould control her both through her desire for security and the promise ofa fine education for the daughter Martha Bagley.

  The daughter was a two-way necessity; she provided him with acontemporary companion and also gave him a lever to wield against theadult. A lone woman could have made her way without trouble. A lone womanwith a girl-child is up against a rather horrifying problem of providingboth support and parental care. He felt that he had done what he had todo, up to the point where Mrs. Bagley became involved with Tim Fisher oranybody else. This part of adulthood was not yet within his grasp.

  But there it was and here it is, and now there was Martha to complicatethe picture. Had Mrs. Bagley been alone, she and Tim could go off andmarry and then settle down in Timbuctoo if they wanted to. But not withMartha. She was in the same intellectual kettle of sardines as James. Hertaste in education was by no means the same. She took to the mathematicalsubjects indifferently, absorbing them well enough--once she could betalked into spending the couple of hours that each day demanded--butwithout interest. Martha could rattle off quotations from literarymasters, she could follow the score of most operas (her voice was a bitoff-key but she knew what was going on) and she enjoyed all of theavailable information on keeping a house in order. Her eye and her mindwere, as James Holden's, faster than her hand. She went through the samefrustrations as he did, with different tools and in a different medium.The first offside snick of the scissors she knew to be bad before shetried the pattern for size, and the only way she could correct suchdefective work was to practice and practice until her muscles weretrained enough to respond to the direction of her mind.

  Remove her now and place her in a school--even the most advancedschool--and she would undergo the unhappy treatment that James hadundergone these several years ago.

  And yet she could not be cut loose. Martha was as much a part of thisvery strange life as James was. So this meant that any revision inoverall policy must necessarily include the addition of Tim Fisher andnot the subtraction of Mrs. Bagley and Martha.

  "Charles Maxwell" had to go.

  James's problem had not changed. His machine must be kept a secret aslong as he could. The machine was his, James Quincy Holden's property byevery known and unwritten legal right of direct, single, unclutteredinheritance. The work of his parents had been stopped by their death, butit was by no means finished with the construction of the machine. To thecontrary, the real work had only begun with the completion of the firstworking model. And whether he turned out to be a machine-made genius, anover-powered dolt, or an introverted monster it was still his ownpersonal reason for being alive.

  He alone should reap the benefit or the sorrow, and had his parents livedthey would have had their right to reap good or bad with him. Good orbad, had they lived, he would have received their protection.

  As it was, he had no protection whatsoever. Until he could have and holdthe right to control his own property as he himself saw fit, he had tohide just as deep from the enemy who would steal it as he must hide fromthe friend who would administrate it as a property in escrow for his owngood, since he as a minor was legally unable to walk a path both fittingand proper for his feet.

  So, the facts had to be concealed. Yet all he was buying was time.

  By careful juggling, he had already bought some. Months with Jake Caslow,a few months stolidly fighting the school, and two with the help of Mrs.Bagley and Martha. Then in these later months there had been morepurchased time; time gained by the post-dated engagement and theprocrastinated marriage, which was now running out.

  No matter what he did, it seemed that the result was a wider spread ofknowledge about the Holden Electromechanical Educator.

  So with misgiving and yet unaware of any way or means to circumvent thenecessity without doing more overall harm, James decided that Tim Fishermust be handed another piece of the secret. A plausible piece, with asmuch truth as he would accept for the time being. Maybe--hand Tim Fishera bit with great gesture and he would not go prying for the whole?

  His chance came in mid-August. It was after dinner on an eveninguncluttered with party or shower or the horde of just-dropped-in-friendsof whom Tim Fisher had legion.

  Janet Bagley and Tim Fisher sat on the low divan in the living roomhalf-facing each other. Apart, but just so far apart that they couldtouch with half a gesture, they were discussing the problem of domicile.They were also still quibbling mildly about the honeymoon. Tim Fisherwanted a short, noisy one. A ten-day stay in Hawaii, flying both ways,with a ten-hour stopover in Los Angeles on the way back. Janet Bagleywanted a long and lazy stay somewhere no closer than fifteen hundredmiles to the nearest telephone, newspaper, mailbox, airline, bus stop, orhighway. She'd take the 762-day rocket trip to Venus if they had oneavailable. Tim was duly sympathetic to her desire to get away from herdaily grind for as long a time as possible, but he also had a garage torun, and he was by no means incapable of pointing out the practical sideof crass commercialism.

  But unlike the problem of the honeymoon, which Janet Bagley was willingto discuss on any terms for the pleasure of discussing it, the problem ofdomicile had been avoided--to the degree of being pointed.

  For Janet Bagley was still torn between two loyalties. Hers was nota lone loyalty to James Holden, there had been almost a completeassociation with the future of her daughter in the loyalty. She realizedas well as James did, that Martha must not be wrested from this life andforced to live, forever an outcast, raised mentally above the level ofher age and below the physical size of her mental development. Mrs.Bagley thought only of Martha's future; she gave little or no thought onthe secondary part of the problem. But James knew that once Martha wasseparated from the establishment, she could not long conceal her advancedinformation, and revealing that would reveal its source.

  And so, as they talked together with soft voices, James Holden decidedthat he could best buy time by employing logic, finance, and good commonsense. He walked into the living room and sat across the coffee tablefrom them. He said, "You'll have to live here, you know."

  The abrupt statement stunned them both. Tim sat bolt upright andobjected, "I'll see to it that we're properly housed, young fellow."

  "This isn't charity," replied James. "Nor the goodness of my littleheart. It's a necessity."

  "How so?" demanded Tim crossly. "It's my life--and Janet's."

  "And--Martha's life," added James.

  "You don't think I'm including her out, do you?"

  "No, but you're forgetting that she isn't to be popped here and there asthe fancy hits you, either. She's much to be considered."

  "I'll consider her," snapped Tim. "She shall be my daughter. If she will,I'll have her use my name as well as my care and affection."

  "Of course you will," agreed James. The quick gesture of Mrs. Bagley'shand towards Tim, and his equally swift caress in reply were noticed butnot understood by James. "But you're not thinking deeply enough aboutit."

  "All right. You tell me all about it."

  "Martha must stay here," said James. "Neither of you--nor Martha--haveany idea of how stultifying it can be to be forced into school under thesupervision of teachers who cannot understand, and among classmateswhose grasp of any subject is no stronger than a feeble grope in themental dawn."

  "Maybe so. But that's no reason why
we must run our life your way."

  "You're wrong, Mr. Fisher. Think a moment. Without hesitation, you willinclude the education of Martha Bagley along with the 'care andaffection' you mentioned a moment ago."

  "Of course."

  "This means, Mr. Fisher, that Martha, approaching ten years old,represents a responsibility of about seven more years prior to hergraduation from high school and another four years of college--grantingthat Martha is a standard, normal, healthy young lady. Am I right?"

  "Sure."

  "Well, since you are happy and willing to take on the responsibility ofeleven years of care and affection and the expense of schooling the girl,you might as well take advantage of the possibilities here and figure onfive years--or less. If we cannot give her the equal of a master's degreein three, I'm shooting in the dark. Make it five, and she'll have herdoctor's degree--or at least it's equivalent. Does that make sense?"

  "Of course it does. But--"

  "No buts until we're finished. You'll recall the tales we told you aboutthe necessity of hiding out. It must continue. During the school year wemust not be visible to the general public."

  "But dammit, I don't want to set up my family in someone else's house,"objected Tim Fisher.

  "Buy this one," suggested James. "Then it will be yours. I'll stay on andpay rent on my section."

  "You'll--now wait a minute! What are you talking about?"

  "I said, _'I'll pay rent on my section,'_" said James.

  "But this guy upstairs--" Tim took a long breath. "Let's get thisstraight," he said, "now that we're on the subject, what about Mr.Charles Maxwell?"

  "I can best quote," said James with a smile, "'Oh, what a tangled web weweave, when first we practice to deceive!'"

  "That's Shakespeare."

  "Sorry. That's Sir Walter Scott. _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_. CantoSix, Stanza Seventeen. The fact of the matter is that we could go oncompounding this lie, but it's time to stop it. Mr. Charles Maxwelldoes not exist."

  "I don't understand!"

  "Hasn't it puzzled you that this hermit-type character that never puts afoot out of the house has been out and gone on some unstated vacation orbusiness trip for most of the spring and summer?"

  "Hadn't given it a thought," said Fisher with a fatuous look at Mrs.Bagley. She mooned back at him. For a moment they were lost in oneanother, giving proof to the idea that blinder than he who will notsee is the fellow who has his eye on a woman.

  "Charles Maxwell does not exist except in the minds of his happyreaders," said James. "He is a famous writer of boys' stories and knownto a lot of people for that talent. Yet he is no more a real personthan Lewis Carroll."

  "But Lewis Carroll did exist--"

  "As Charles L. Dodgson, a mathematician famous for his work in symboliclogic."

  "All right! Then who writes these stories? Who supports you--and thishouse?"

  "I do!"

  Tim blinked, looked around the room a bit wildly and then settled onMartha, looking at her helplessly.

  "It's true, Tim," she said quietly. "It's crazy but it works. I've beenliving with it for years."

  Tim considered that for a full minute. "All right," he said shortly. "Soit works. But why does any kid have to live for himself?" He eyed James."Who's responsible for you?"

  "I am!"

  "But--"

  "Got an hour?" asked James with a smile. "Then listen--"

  At the end of James Holden's long explanation, Tim Fisher said, "Me--?Now, I need a drink!"

  James chuckled, "Alcoholic, of course--which is Pi to seven decimalplaces if you ever need it. Just count the letters."

  Over his glass, Tim eyed James thoughtfully. "So if this is true, James,just who owns that fabulous machine of yours?"

  "It is mine, or ours."

  "You gave me to believe that it was a high-priority Government project,"he said accusingly.

  "Sorry. But I would lie as glibly to God Himself if it became necessaryto protect myself by falsehood. I'm sorry it isn't a Government project,but it's just as important a secret."

  "Anything as big as this _should_ be the business of the Government."

  "Perhaps so. But it's mine to keep or to give, and it's mine to study."James was thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that you can argue thatanything as important as this should be handed over to the authoritiesimmediately; that a large group of men dedicated to such a study canlocate its difficulties and its pitfalls and failures far swifter thana single youth of eleven. Yet by the right of invention, a processprotected by the Constitution of the United States and circumvented bysome very odd rulings on the part of the Supreme Court, it is mine byinheritance, to reap the exclusive rewards for my family's work. UntilI'm of an age when I am deemed capable of managing my own life, I'd be'protected' out of my rights if I handed this to anybody--including theGovernment. They'd start a commission full of bureaucrats who'd firstuse the machine to study how to best expand their own little empire,perpetuate themselves in office, and then they'd rule me out on thequaint theory that education is so important that it mustn't be wastedon the young."

  Tim Fisher smiled wryly. He turned to Janet Bagley. "How do you want it?"he asked her.

  "For Martha's sake, I want it his way," she said.

  "All right. Then that's the way we'll have it," said Tim Fisher. He eyedJames somewhat ruefully. "You know, it's a funny thing. I've alwaysthought this was a screwy set-up, and to be honest, I've always thoughtyou were a pretty bumptious kid. I guess you had a good reason. Anyway, Ishould have known Janet wouldn't have played along with it unless she hada reason that was really helping somebody."

  James saw with relief that Tim had allied himself with the cause; he was,in fact, very glad to have someone knowledgeable and levelheaded in onthe problem. Anyway he really liked Tim, and was happy to have thedeception out of the way.

  "That's all right," he said awkwardly.

  Tim laughed. "Hey, will this contraption of yours teach me how to adjusta set of tappets?"

  "No," said James quickly. "It will teach you the theory of how to chopdown a tree but it can't show you how to swing an axe. Or," he went onwith a smile, "it will teach you how to be an efficient accountant--butyou have to use your own money!"

  * * * * *

  In the house on Martin's Hill, everybody won. Tim Fisher objected atfirst to the idea of gallivanting off on a protracted honeymoon, leavinga nine-year-old daughter in the care of a ten-year-old boy. ButJanet--now Mrs. Fisher--pointed out that James and Martha were both quitecompetent, and furthermore there was little to be said for a honeymoonencumbered with a little pitcher that had such big ears, to say nothingof a pair of extremely curious eyes and a rather loud voice. Andfurthermore, if we allow the woman's privilege of adding one furthermoreon top of another, it had been a long, long time since Janet had enjoyeda child-free vacation. So she won. It was not Hawaii by air for a ten-daystay. It was Hawaii by ship with a sixty-day sojourn in a hotel thatoffered both seclusion and company to the guests' immediate preference.

  James Holden won more time. He felt that every hour was a victory. Attimes he despaired because time passed so crawlingly slow. All the wealthof his education could not diminish that odd sense of the time-factorthat convinces all people that the length of the years diminish as ageincreases. Far from being a simple, amusing remark, the problem has beenstudied because it is universal. It is psychological, of course, and itis not hard to explain simply in terms of human experience plus the knownfact that the human senses respond to the logarithm of the stimulus.

  With most people, time is reasonably important. We live by the clock, andwe die by the clock, and before there were clocks there were candlesmarked in lengths and sand flowing through narrow orifices, waterdripping into jars, and posts stuck in the ground with marks for theshadow to divide the day. The ancient ones related womanhood to the moonand understood that time was vital in the course of Life.

  With James, time was more important, perhaps,
than to any other humanbeing alive. He was fighting for time, always. His was not the immaturedesire of uneducated youth to become adult overnight for vague reasons.

  With James it was an honest evaluation of his precarious position. Hehad to hide until he was deemed capable of handling his own affairs,after which he could fight his own battles in his own way without theinterference of the laws that are set up to protect the immature.

  With Tim Fisher and his brand-new bride out of the way, James took a deepbreath at having leaped one more hurdle. Then he sat down to think.

  Obviously there is no great sea-change that takes place at the Stroke OfMidnight on the date of the person's 21st birthday; no magic wand iswaved over his scalp to convert him in a moment of time from a pulinginfant to a mature adult. The growth of child to adult is as gradual asthe increase of his stature, which varies from one child to the next.

  The fact remained that few people are confronted by the necessity ofmaking a decision based upon the precise age of the subject. We usuallycross this barrier with no trouble, taking on our rights andresponsibilities as we find them necessary to our life. Only in probatingan estate left by the demise of both parents in the presence of minorchildren does this legal matter of precise age become noticeable. Eventhen, the control exerted over the minor by the legal guardian diminishesby some obscure mathematical proportion that approaches zero as the minorapproaches the legal age of maturity. Rare is the case of the reluctantguardian who jealously relinquishes the iron rule only after the properlitigation directs him to let go, render the accounting for audit, andturn over the keys to the treasury to the rightful heir.

  James Holden was the seldom case. James Holden needed a very adroitlawyer to tell him how and when his rights and privileges as a citizencould be granted, and under what circumstances. From the evidence alreadyat hand, James saw loopholes available in the matter of the legal age oftwenty-one. But he also knew that he could not approach a lawyer withquestions without giving full explanation of every why and wherefore.

  So James Holden, already quite competent in the do-it-himself method ofcutting his own ice, decided to study law. Without any forewarning of themonumental proportions of the task he faced, James started to acquirebooks on legal procedure and the law.

  * * * * *

  With the return of Tim and Janet Fisher matters progressed well. Mrs.Fisher took over the running of the household; Tim continued his runningof the garage and started to dicker for the purchase of the house onMartin's Hill. The "Hermit" who had returned before the wedding remainedtemporarily. With a long-drawn plan, Charles Maxwell would slowly fadeout of sight. Already his absence during the summer was hinting as beinga medical study; during the winter he would return to the distanthospital. Later he would leave completely cured to take up residenceelsewhere. Beyond this they planned to play it by ear.

  James and Martha, freed from the housework routine, went deep into study.

  Christmas passed and spring came and in April, James marked his eleventhbirthday.