“Obviously Jackson is not aware of his deviation. That relieves him of having to sign his own reconversion certificate. There will be no difficulty now in returning you to the Death’s Head.”
“For God’s sake, I’ve got arms, legs, hands, feet. My eyes see, my ears hear. All right. You tell me what’s wrong with me.”
“Will the medical examiner please make her comparative Norm report?”
There was a rustling of papers; someone rose to standing. A contralto voice said, “Medical report, taken two days ago, of Jackson O-E-5611 correlated with the Norm of the City of Sigma-9.”
“Go on, Dr. Lang.”
“Thank you. Jackson O-E-5611, height six feet, one and a half inches: the Norm for the City of Sigma-9 is five feet nine and three-quarter inches. Of course this discrepancy does not indicate anything definite, but it is a deviation, nevertheless. Jackson O-E-5611 is a chronic nail biter and has been so since early childhood. This is quite far away from the Norm, a condition that exists in less than 5 percent of the population, definitely marking him for consideration.”
“I notice you are skipping the more standard criteria, Dr. Lang,” the voice of the judge interrupted.
“Yes, your Honor. But, as you advised me earlier, in view of the destruction of Epsilon-7 so short a time ago, I thought I might skip to the more drastic deviations.”
“Very well. I just wanted it on record that I did so advise you. I saw Captain Alva about to raise an objection.”
The Captain’s voice: “Not an objection, Your Honor. I only wanted to say that the destruction of the City of Epsilon-7 is exactly the reason why I and the other Captains believe that — ”
“Very well,” interrupted the judge’s voice, “then Dr. Lang will give a thorough report on the deviation.”
“Your Honor, that wasn’t my object — ”
“I have requested a thorough report from Dr. Lang. I can see no other reason for you to object. Proceed, Dr. Lang.”
“But, Your Honor — ”
“Dr. Lang, if you will.”
A murmur in the audience again, then the contralto voice went on. “Weight, 169 pounds as compared to the Norm of 162. I might well mention that this difference is only significant when looked at along with the height, where it becomes apparent that the subject, though above the Norm, is still underweight for his own physical development.”
Jackson’s taut voice jutted in, “Isn’t that a hell of a complicated way of saying I haven’t had a decent meal in three months, thanks to the hounding of your goon squad?”
“Jackson!”
Dr. Lang went on, “He conforms quite well to the Norm in dexterity. He’s right-handed, and the Norm is 89 percent of the City’s population also right-handed.”
Again Jackson’s voice, sharp and darting: “I notice you hold your stylus in your left hand, Dr. Lang. Would you say that marks a significant deviation?”
“Jackson, need I remind you that in several Cities, One-Eyes are not allowed to speak at their own trials, and occasionally not even allowed to attend them. I would dislike to find such an arrangement a temporary necessity.”
“Captain Alva…” The tautness had gone from Jackson’s voice; pleading replaced it.
“Jackson, I’m doing everything I possibly — ”
“There is a slight difference in length of limbs, right arm nearly a centimeter and a half longer than the left. The Norm is a discrepancy of only a centimeter. Legs are identical length. Norm of Sigma-9 is a two-millimeter extension of left leg over right. Note the gauntness of his face, for which I have no figures, but it is definitely away from the Norm. His nose has been broken twice. The percentage of the population to break bones is 1.6 percent. This puts him quite definitely out of the Norm. A small birthmark on his right shoulder is completely away from the Norm. In situations of great strain, artificially induced, his perspiration index is 9.75 as opposed to 8.91 for the Norm. There is also a marked…” and the contralto voice continued to outline a list of glandular secretions, submetabolic functions, and tropal differentiations that sounded like the cataloguing process a modern biologist might go through in defining a newly discovered life-form; nothing less, mused Joneny, could merit such detail. After fifteen minutes she paused; then, in a staccato epilogue, in which Joneny could hear the lack of conviction, Dr. Lang declared: “And due to the extremity of our situation, I believe all this taken together is deviation enough to recommend reconversion in the Death’s Head.”
Approving whispers rose and fell.
“You may, if you really want to, question Dr. Lang on her findings,” said the judge. “If you want to take the time.”
“Yes, I want to.” The answer was quick and desperate.
“Go on. But the questioning is only a formality.”
“You’ve reminded me of a lot of things today, Your Honor.” There was an expectant pause, but the judge was silent. “Dr. Lang, you’re a woman of science. You deal closely with the biology staff and the Market Research staff; you’re friendly with many of the Navigation Officers.”
“That’s right.”
Dr. Lang’s voice was overriden immediately by the judge’s: “I don’t see what this has to do with — ”
“Please let him go on,” from Captain Alva.
Silence. Then Dr. Lang repeated, “That’s right. I am.”
“Do you remember, Dr. Lang, two years ago when a thirteen-year-old girl named Tomasa was discovered to have the first case of carcinoma of the pancreas on record in the ten generations of the City’s history?”
“I remember.”
“And how was Tomasa’s life saved?”
“By an ancient technique of radio-microsurgery.”
“Where did you find out the existence of this technique and its application?”
“From an old woman named — ”
“—named Mavle TU-5, who six months later was condemned as a One-Eyed deviate and executed in the Death’s Head!”
“I fail to see what this has to do with — ” began the judge. Disorder had begun again and the gavel now covered the voice, rapping loudly. But the moment a sort of silence was restored, Jackson’s voice came again: “Captain Alva, when the gyroscopic centering for the multiple gravity distributor failed, didn’t you come to Ben Holden I-6 for a two-week cram course in general relativistic physics before you even dared to open the housing?”
From the judge: “This has nothing to do with your case! You were asked only to question Dr. Lang’s report on your deviation!”
“For the love of knowledge, I am questioning. I’m telling you we’re not a bunch of mutant monsters. I’m telling you we’re only people who are trying to guard what’s left of wisdom in this barbaric cave you call a City. Your beloved Norm! To close off twenty people in a section and gas them for their love of history; to chase a man out of hiding with a herd of specially bred twenty-pound rats because he knows multiple calculus; to inject a woman with half a dozen pathological viruses until she confessed Gödel’s incompleteness theorem and then sentence her to the Death’s Head as an unredeemable mutant; what Norm does this conform to? Does this meet any standard of human — ”
“Silence!” The gavel thundered. Then, slow but mounting: “Our ancestors charged us with bringing human beings to the stars. And no deviation will be tolerated. How long ago was it that One-Eyed conspirators took over Epsilon-7 and destroyed it?”
Three voices attempted to interrupt — the Captain’s, Jackson’s, and Dr. Lang’s: “But your Honor, we don’t — ”
“That the last communication came from One-Eyes is proof enough that they were the last ones in charge, and therefore that they must have overthrown the leadership of the Norm. Fifteen thousand people on Epsilon-7 all dead: the Sigma-9 will not be next. In view of the threat such deviation poses, I cannot but give my assent to Dr. Lang’s recommendation of death by — ”