A PRIZE ... FOR EDIE
By J. F. BONE
Illustrated by Schoenherr
| The Committee had, unquestionably, made a mistake. Therewas no doubt that Edie had achieved the long-sought cancercure ... but awarding the Nobel Prize was, nonetheless,a mistake ... |
The letter from America arrived too late. TheCommittee had regarded acceptance as a foregoneconclusion, for no one since Boris Pasternak hadturned down a Nobel Prize. So when ProfessorDoctor Nels Christianson opened the letter, therewas not the slightest fear on his part, or on thatof his fellow committeemen, Dr. Eric Carlstrom andDr. Sven Eklund, that the letter would be anythingother than the usual routine acceptance.
“At last we learn the identity of this greatresearch worker,” Christianson murmured ashe scanned the closely typed sheets. Carlstrom andEklund waited impatiently, wondering at thepeculiar expression that fixed itself onChristianson’s face. Fine beads of sweatappeared on the professor’s high narrowforehead as he laid the letter down.“Well,” he said heavily, “now weknow.”
“Know what?” Eklund demanded.“What does it say? Does she accept?”
“She accepts,” Christianson said in apeculiar half-strangled tone as he passed theletter to Eklund. “See for yourself.”
Eklund’s reaction was different. His facewas a mottled reddish white as he finished theletter and handed it[Page 56]across the table toCarlstrom. “Why,” he demanded of noone in particular, “did this have to happento us?”
“It was bound to happen sometime,”Carlstrom said. “It’s just ourmisfortune that it happened to us.” Hechuckled as he passed the letter back toChristianson. “At least this year thepresentation should be an event worthremembering.”
“It seems that we have a littleproblem,” Christianson said, making whatwould probably be the understatement of thecentury. Possibly there would be greaterunderstatements in the remaining ninety-nine yearsof the Twenty-first Century, but Carlstrom doubtedit. “We certainly have our necks out,”he agreed.
“We can’t do it!” Eklundexploded. “We simply can’t award theNobel Prize in medicine and physiology to that ...that C. Edie!” He sputtered into silence.
“We can hardly do anything else,”Christianson said. “There’s noquestion as to the identity of the winner. Dr.Hanson’s letter makes that unmistakablyclear. And there’s no question that theaward is deserved.”
“We still could award it to someoneelse,” Eklund said.
“Not a chance. We’ve already said toomuch to the press. It’s known all over theworld that the medical award is going to thediscoverer of the basic cause of cancer, to thefounder of modern neoplastic therapy.”Christianson grimaced. “If we changed ourdecision now, there’d be all sorts ofembarrassing questions from the press.”
“I can see it now,” Carlstrom said,“the banquet, the table, the flowers, andProfessor Doctor Nels Christianson in formal dresswith the Order of St. Olaf gleaming across hiswhite shirtfront, standing before thatdistinguished audience and announcing: ‘TheNobel Prize in Medicine and Physiology is awardedto—’ and then that deadly hush when theaudience sees the winner.”<