Fifty Per Cent Prophet, Randall Garrett [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

Maybe you'll get more of the fine-grain structure of it if you'll try for more understanding."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sniffing.

"Look. Forsythe has made his living being a fraud, right? And yet he sent out those warning free—and anonymously. He had no thought of any reward or recompense, you know that. Why? Because he is basically a kind, decent human being. He wanted to do all he could to stop any injury or loss of life.

"Why, then, would he send out a fraudulent warning? He wouldn't. He didn't. Every one of those warnings—including the last one—was sent out because he knew that something was going to happen.

"Evidently, once he gets a flash about a certain event, he can't get any more data on that particular area of the future, or we could get more data on the Moonbase accident. I think, if we can boost his basic understanding up past the critical point, we'll have a man with controlled prescience, and we need that man.

"But, Donna, the only way we're ever going to do that—the only way we'll ever whip this problem—is for you to increase your understanding of him.

"You're past the critical point—way past it—in general understanding. But you've got to keep an eye on the little specific instances, too."

She nodded contritely. "I know. I'm sorry. Sometimes a person can get too near a problem." She smiled. "Thanks for the new perspective, Brian. I'll go back to work and see if I can't look at it a little more clearly."

In the White House, Senator Mikhail Kerotski was facing two men—James Bandeau, the Secretary of Space, and the President of the United States.

"Mr. President," he said evenly, "I've known you for a long time. I haven't failed you yet."

"I know that, Mike," the President said smoothly. "Neither has your Society, as far as I know. It's still difficult for me to believe that they get their information the way you say they do, but you've never lied to me about anything so far, so I take your word for it. Your Society is the most efficient espionage and counterespionage group in history, as far as I know. But this is different."

"Damned right it's different!" snapped Secretary Bandeau. "Your own Society, senator, admits that we've stirred the Soviets up with this space lift thing. They've got ships of their own going out there now. According to reports from Space Force intelligence, Chinese Moon cars have been prowling around Moonbase One, trying to find out what's going on."

"More than that," added the President, "they've sneaked a small group aboard the old Lunik IX to see what they can see from up there."

Secretary Bandeau jerked his head around to look at the President. "The old circumlunar satellite? Where did you hear that?"

The President smiled wanly. "From the S.M.M.R.'s report." He looked at Kerotski. "I doubt that it will do them any good. I don't think they'll be able to see anything now."

"Not unless they've figured out some way to combine X rays with radar," the senator said. "And I'm quite sure they haven't."

"Senator," said the Secretary of Space, "a lot of money has been spent and a lot of risks have been taken, just on your say-so. I—"

"Now, just a minute, Jim," said the President flatly. "Let's not go off half-cocked. It wasn't done on Mike's say-so; it was done on mine. I signed the order because I believed it was the proper, if not the only thing to do." Then he looked at the senator. "But this is the last day, Mike. Nothing has happened.

"Now, I'm not blaming you. I didn't call you up here to do that. And I think we can quit worrying about explaining away the money angle. But we're going to have to explain why we did it, Mike. And I can't tell the truth."

"I'll say you can't!" Bandeau exploded. "That would look great, wouldn't it? I can see the headlines now: 'Fortuneteller Gave Me Advice,' President Says. Brother!"

"Jim," the President said coldly, "I said to let me handle this."

"What you want, then, Mr. President," Kerotski put in smoothly, "is for me to help you concoct a good cover story."

"That's about it, Mike," the President admitted.

Kerotski shook his head slowly. "It won't be necessary."

Bandeau looked as though he were going to explode, but a glance from the President silenced him.

"Go on, Mike," he said to the senator.

"Mr. President, I know it looks bad. It's going to look even worse for a while. But, let me ask you one question. How is the Ch'ien space drive coming along?"

"Why ... fine. It checked out months ago. The new ship is on her shakedown cruise now. You know that."

"Right. Now, ask yourself one more question: What is the purpose of Moonbase One?"

"Why, to—"

The telephone rang.

The President scooped it up with one hand. "Yes?"

Then he listened for a long minute, his expression changing slowly.

"Yes," he said at last. "Yes, I got it. No; I'll release it to the newsmen. All right. Fine." He hung up.

"Twelve minutes ago," he said slowly, "the old Lunik IX smashed into Moonbase One and blew it to smithereens. The Soviets say that a meteor hit Lunik IX at just the right angle to slow it down enough to make it hit the base. They send their condolences."

Brian Taggert lay back on the couch in his office and folded his hands complacently on his abdomen. "So Donna's theory held water and so did mine. The accident was due to human intervention. Forsythe saw something from space hitting Moonbase One and assumed it was a meteor. He never dreamed the Soviets would drop old Lunik IX on it."

Senator Kerotski carefully lit a cigar. "There's going to be an awful lot of fuss in the papers, but the President is going to announce that he accepts the Soviet story. I convinced him that it is best to let the Soviets think they're a long way ahead of us in the space race now. There's nothing like a little complacency to slow someone down."

"How'd you convince him?"

"Asked the same question you asked me. Now that we have the Ch'ien space drive, what purpose does a moon base serve? None at all, of course."

Donna Tadesco leaned forward in her chair. "Did you happen to notice the sequence of events, senator? We were warned that the base would be struck. We decided to abandon it. We organized the biggest space lift in history to evacuate the men and the most valuable instruments. But the Soviets thought we were sending equipment up instead of bringing it down. They didn't know what we were up to, but they decided to put a stop to it, so they dropped an abandoned space satellite on it.

"If we hadn't decided to evacuate the base, it would never have happened.

"That is human intervention with a vengeance. We still don't know whether or not Forsythe's predictions will ever do us any good or not. Every time we've taken steps to avoid one of his prophesied catastrophes, we've done the very thing that brought them about."

The senator puffed his cigar in thoughtful silence.

"We'll just have to keep working with him," Taggert said. "Maybe we'll eventually make sense out of this precognition thing.

"At least we've got what we wanted. The Soviets think they've put us back ten years; they figure they've got more time, now, to get their own program a long ways ahead.

"When they do get to Mars and Venus and the planets of Alpha Centauri and Sirius and Procyon, they'll find us there, waiting for them."

Senator Kerotski chuckled softly. "You're a pretty good prophet, yourself, Brian. The only difference between you and Forsythe is that he's right half the time.

"You're right all the time."

"No," said Taggert. "Not all the time. Only when it's important."

THE END End of Project Gutenberg's Fifty Per Cent Prophet, by Gordon Randall Garrett