Eddie Willikers frowned and scratched his head in puzzlement. “Well, but, gosh, Miss Tagbord, no we’re not.”
“Well, I mean, not literally. But—“
“Not at all. John Glatt invented that electric power motor, and those anti-gravity shoes, and that shame ray, and that concealing projector over Glatt’s Gorge—oh, and those neat teleportation arches. Plus probably other stuff I don’t even know about. He created all these fantastic new devices. That’s got nothing to do with his values. Anyone can have those values, but it doesn’t mean they’re a genius inventor. Same thing with Mister Rawbone. He isn’t rich and powerful because of his values. He invented Rawbonium. That’s not me. I’m not John Glatt. I’m just some kid who graduated high school and is going into college in the fall.”
Dragnie paused. On the edge of the mind of her consciousness she recognized that Glatt was at that moment reading the last several lines of his speech. In a moment the hall would be filled with thunderous applause, and swarming reporters, and dignitaries frantic to have their photos taken with Glatt and the others. Her private moment with this young man would be shattered forever. She simply did not have the time, now, to correct his misapprehensions, to recommend that he surround himself with people who believed in the truth, as she did, as Glatt did, as Rawbone and De Soto and the other members of their circle did. She did not have the time to draw the fine distinction, so crucial to her values, between the perfect man and a sociopathic murderer. She did not have the time, just now, to correct Eddie’s premises. But she sensed, behind his rather appealing looks, an intelligence simmering with potential.
“You know, Eddie,” she said. “These questions you’re asking—they’re excellent questions. I’d love to discuss them more with you. So let me make a suggestion. Now that Mr. Glatt has been named King of the Earth, he and I are going to need a private assistant. I think you would make an excellent candidate to fill that job. Of course it would require putting off college for a few months, and living with us… but would that interest you?”
“Really?” The young man look stunned. “Well, yeah. Of course. But my parents—“
“I’ll talk to your parents.”
Out on the stage, John Glatt said, “…as we inaugurate a new era in human society: the New, Improved Era of the Producer, and the Rest of the Human Race, Who Help Him.” And with that, he raised his hand, and made a gesture outlining the sign of the dollar, and the exclamation mark, articulating its final dot with a pointed finger and an outthrust arm.