SOLID SOLUTION
By JAMES STAMERS
Illustrated by GRAY
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine April 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Brilliant? A genius? David Adam Smith had
the brains of fifty men—very literally!
Three students were expelled for bringing the bubble dancer into theDesert Institute, Lee White, Burns Gilbert and John Thay. The Directordid not like any of them. He liked me, Morris. I was his stooge, hissquirming straight man. I was useful for his jokes.
"We know calculus is a method of measuring uncircular curves, such asbeer barrels ... but I fear Morris has allowed that thought to absorbhim, hig, hig, hig, hig."
That was one of Professor David Adam Smith's favorites. Or:
"If you will visit me this afternoon, Morris, I will give you personaltuition in astrophysics ... beginning with the more complicated partsof the alphabet, hig, hig, hig."
But he owned the Desert Institute. He was the only living authority ongeology, terrestrial or extraplanetary, and there was a waiting list ofstudents....
On their last afternoon, I was sent with the disgraced three on aspecimen-collecting tour of the desert. It was my routine job but areal disgrace to them. I often thought the only reason David Adam Smithallowed me to stay on as a student, apart from offering him a targetfor sneering at, was because of my muscles. I could handle the longspecimen trailer and heave boulders about more easily than the others.
"Do not sneer at Morris, gentlemen. Science tells us brain size isrelated to surface area. You should expect in Morris a potentiallygreat brain therefore ... if Morris were not devoted to obstructingscience, hig, hig, hig."
The other three, Lee, Burns and John, were about six feet tall, slim,dark haired and handsome. But we were collecting specimens, not runningfor Miss Earth 2430. My extra seven inches in height extends more orless proportionately in my reach and thickness of shoulder. Anyway,they were depressed at being expelled, so I let them sit in the shadeof the trailer while I set up the specimen plates and power unit,minima stand here, maxima stand there, controls on the sand beside them.
"I don't expect you've done this elementary stuff for a couple ofyears," I said. "So ... don't walk on the plates and don't touch thedial or the red and blue buttons."
"Hell, Morry, we know."
"Okay, okay. Only it's more tricky than it looks."
The whole desert belonged to David Adam Smith, which showed hispolitical pull. Who else on Earth was allowed a whole room tothemselves, even—except maybe the Planetary Salvager, and the headsof the Material Recovery subdivisions and top Government people likethat. But David Adam Smith had to have a complete desert. He ruled fromthe Holiday Probable centers of Reno to the gambling computers of LasVegas, where the bubble dancer had come from.
I put a single grain of sand on the minima plate and stood clear.
"Press the blue button, Burns."
Burns wasn't even listening.
"Burns," I repeated.
"Hell, Morry, who cares about these damned specimens? How would youlike to be expelled? No classification, no chance of a job, spend therest of your life in a compulsory Holiday Reservation."
"How does he get away with it," muttered Lee, looking around at theopen desert and the bare hills on the skyline. "Tomorrow we'll b