their current program against the existing Informed Consent Statement was a little more serious. It appeared to be well organized, cogently reasoned, and presented to the public with thoughtful moderation.
To counter the efforts of SOO, Frances and Frank von Liszt suggested the IC Statement be reworded to include phrases stating that the undersigned fully understood the significance of what he was signing, that he had been offered no reward—financial or otherwise—for signing, nor was he signing under any physical, mental, or psychic duress.
Having concluded their presentation, the von Liszts were silent. Angela Berri asked for comments. Burton P. Klein and Phoebe Huntzinger gave approval to the revised form. I had an objection. I asked if making even this minor affirmative response to the Society of Obsos’ desires might not encourage them to increase their demands.
“Once we give in,” I pointed out, “they’ll up the ante. Then where do we end? Sooner or later we’ll have to answer them with a loud firm ‘No!’ It might be better to fight them on this. We could easily win with a well-planned media campaign stressing the anticipated therapeutic benefits to be derived from human experimentation. If we surrender on this small issue, they undoubtedly will be inspired to escalate their demands.”
“What do you think of that, Burton?” Angela asked Klein directly.
She surprised me. After the way he had savaged my report on Project Supersense, she seemed to be deliberately pitting the two of us, for what reason I could not fathom.
“Mountains out of molehills,” Klein growled. He was an enormous NM; heavy through the shoulders and torso, with ridiculously spindly legs. His face was all eyebrows. He had a Grade B genetic rating, but I suspected most of his talents were in his muscles. Of course, in his service that was of some importance.
“Look,” he went on, “it’s just the wording of the IC Statement we’re concerned with here. It won’t restrict us at all. Give those old idiots what they want and shut them up. They’re no threat. No one takes them seriously.”
There was silence for a moment. We all looked at Angela. She looked at Burton Klein.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “I may discuss it with DIROB.”
That seemed to satisfy Klein. He smiled. He thought he had won. “All right, Burton,” Angela continued. “Let’s hear from you now and wind this thing up.”
The report of AssDepDirSec was a compendium of statistics and percentages. It concerned the numbers, categories, and frequencies of acts of assassination, kidnapping, sabotage, terrorism, and threats against PS, academic, and commercial research laboratories. Klein rattled off the figures so rapidly that he was finished in three minutes flat. I don’t think the others had caught the significance of what he had said. I was conscious of Paul Bumford shifting his position and moving uneasily behind me. I knew he had, and was trying to alert me.
“Wait a minute,” I said, even before Angela had asked for comments. “Burton, if I understand you correctly, acts of assassination, sabotage, and terrorism against scientific research facilities -are up almost five percent from last month and more than fifty percent from what they were a year ago?”
“That’s right,” he said stolidly.
“Well, you seem very calm about it. Aren’t you concerned?”
“Sure, I’m concerned. I’m taking steps. I’ve organized a working committee of government, commercial, and academic security directors. We’re exchanging intelligence. We’re beefing-up security precautions. And we’re working closely with the BPS on this.”
The BPS, Bureau of Public Security (formerly the Federal Bureau of Investigation), maintained the data bank on domestic criminals and dissidents.
“Well, what’s the pattern?” I demanded.
“Pattern?”
“Yes. What kind of installations are being bombed and burned and sabotaged?”
“All
To counter the efforts of SOO, Frances and Frank von Liszt suggested the IC Statement be reworded to include phrases stating that the undersigned fully understood the significance of what he was signing, that he had been offered no reward—financial or otherwise—for signing, nor was he signing under any physical, mental, or psychic duress.
Having concluded their presentation, the von Liszts were silent. Angela Berri asked for comments. Burton P. Klein and Phoebe Huntzinger gave approval to the revised form. I had an objection. I asked if making even this minor affirmative response to the Society of Obsos’ desires might not encourage them to increase their demands.
“Once we give in,” I pointed out, “they’ll up the ante. Then where do we end? Sooner or later we’ll have to answer them with a loud firm ‘No!’ It might be better to fight them on this. We could easily win with a well-planned media campaign stressing the anticipated therapeutic benefits to be derived from human experimentation. If we surrender on this small issue, they undoubtedly will be inspired to escalate their demands.”
“What do you think of that, Burton?” Angela asked Klein directly.
She surprised me. After the way he had savaged my report on Project Supersense, she seemed to be deliberately pitting the two of us, for what reason I could not fathom.
“Mountains out of molehills,” Klein growled. He was an enormous NM; heavy through the shoulders and torso, with ridiculously spindly legs. His face was all eyebrows. He had a Grade B genetic rating, but I suspected most of his talents were in his muscles. Of course, in his service that was of some importance.
“Look,” he went on, “it’s just the wording of the IC Statement we’re concerned with here. It won’t restrict us at all. Give those old idiots what they want and shut them up. They’re no threat. No one takes them seriously.”
There was silence for a moment. We all looked at Angela. She looked at Burton Klein.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “I may discuss it with DIROB.”
That seemed to satisfy Klein. He smiled. He thought he had won. “All right, Burton,” Angela continued. “Let’s hear from you now and wind this thing up.”
The report of AssDepDirSec was a compendium of statistics and percentages. It concerned the numbers, categories, and frequencies of acts of assassination, kidnapping, sabotage, terrorism, and threats against PS, academic, and commercial research laboratories. Klein rattled off the figures so rapidly that he was finished in three minutes flat. I don’t think the others had caught the significance of what he had said. I was conscious of Paul Bumford shifting his position and moving uneasily behind me. I knew he had, and was trying to alert me.
“Wait a minute,” I said, even before Angela had asked for comments. “Burton, if I understand you correctly, acts of assassination, sabotage, and terrorism against scientific research facilities -are up almost five percent from last month and more than fifty percent from what they were a year ago?”
“That’s right,” he said stolidly.
“Well, you seem very calm about it. Aren’t you concerned?”
“Sure, I’m concerned. I’m taking steps. I’ve organized a working committee of government, commercial, and academic security directors. We’re exchanging intelligence. We’re beefing-up security precautions. And we’re working closely with the BPS on this.”
The BPS, Bureau of Public Security (formerly the Federal Bureau of Investigation), maintained the data bank on domestic criminals and dissidents.
“Well, what’s the pattern?” I demanded.
“Pattern?”
“Yes. What kind of installations are being bombed and burned and sabotaged?”
“All
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