More class drifted up and now there were about thirty.
And here came Miss Simmons! She was marching with a purpose! She was wearing heavy hiking shoes and, despite the heat of the day, a heavy tweed skirt and jacket. She was carrying a walking stick that looked more like a club. Her brown hair was tightly swept back and imprisoned under a man’s shooting hat.
She came to a halt. She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up on her forehead so she could see them. She looked them all over. When she came to Heller, she let go of the glasses and let them fall back on her nose. Ah, this was a good sign. I had confidence in Miss Simmons. If all else failed, this was the one who would stop Heller cold! And her opening words encouraged me greatly!
“Oh, there you are, Wister,” she said in front of the whole class. “How is the young Einstein today? Suffering from a swelled head? I hear you used more INFLUENCE yesterday to get out of further tutoring. Well, have no fear, you are not through the barbed wire yet, Wister. The war you so ferociously favor is barely begun!”
She raised her glasses again so she could see the class and proceeded to address them. “Good afternoon, tomorrow’s hope. I always start our Nature Appreciation itinerary here at the United Nations park. The United Nations was founded in 1945 to prevent the further escalation of WAR and atomic war in particular. This hope was then entombed here in these great white mausoleums.
“It is of historical significance that this part of Manhattan was once an area covered with slaughterhouses. It is a very apt and fitting fact.
“The UN, this dark grave of all man’s greatest hopes, has money, authority and POWER! Yet, I must call to your attention that, despite that, these greedy, self-seeking and egotistical MEN sit in these tombs all day every day, all year every year and do nothing but plot ways and means of avoiding their true duties, duties to which they were pledged by the most sacred vows!
“If these craven, base scoundrels had their way, they would blow up the whole world with thermonuclear fission and fusion! Wister, pay attention.” She lowered her glasses and scowled at him.
She raised her glasses and addressed the rest. “So, class, we start with a could-have-been, the United Nations. Everything you see alive throughout this course will soon be dead forever — destroyed by the vicious idleness, the indecision, the behind-the-scenes plotting and downright craven cowardice of the UN. Wister, what are you looking at?”
Heller said, “This grass is standing up pretty good despite the foot traffic. If they didn’t water it with chlorinated water, it would do better.”
“Pay attention, Wister,” said Miss Simmons, severely. “This is a class in nature appreciation, not the use of poison gas! Now, class, and I hope you are taking notes of the important data I am giving you. Do you see that group of men there? I want to call your attention to the smug, maddeningly blithe expressions on the faces of those UN people stalking about the park.”
Heller said, helpfully, “It says on their blue and gold caps and badges ‘American Legion Post 89, Des Moines, Iowa.’ Is that a member country?”
Miss Simmons quite rightly ignored him. “So you must note, class, and note with horror and indignation, the attitude of irresponsibility which prevails here. If these men would only do their duty… Wister, what are you looking at?”
“These leaves,” said Heller. “All in all, these trees are doing pretty good in all these oil fumes from the river. I think the soil is probably slightly demineralized, though.”
“Pay attention to your classwork!” snapped Miss Simmons. “Now, class, if the UN would ever do its duty,
we could end utterly and forever man’s lemming fixation on self-destruction.”
“What’s a lemming?” said a girl.
“They are hordes of horrible rats that go plunging in masses into the sea annually, committing mass suicide,” said Miss Simmons helpfully. “If it wished, in a single, soul-stirring surge, the UN could rise up with clarion voices and cry ‘DEATH TO THE CAPITALIST WARMONGERS’ Wister, what in the name of God are you looking at NOW?”
There were three seagulls lying along the concrete parapet. Their feet were stuck into black blobs of oil, pinning them to the concrete. Two were dead. The third, his feet stuck and his feathers saturated with oil, was still making feeble efforts to get free.
“Those birds,” said Wister. “They got into an oil slick.”
“And I suppose that will make it easier for you to trap them and blow them up with an atomic bomb! Ignore his antics, class. There is always some student who tries to get others to laugh.” A helicopter was coming down the river very low and the sound blotted her voice out.
Heller was putting on a pair of gloves from his kit. He went over and verified that the two motionless ones were actually dead. Then he went to the third one. It feebly tried to defend itself with its beak.
Kneeling, Heller got a small spray out of his haversack. By Gods, he skirted on the edges of real Code breaks: it said Solvent 564, Fleet Supply Base 14 right on it in Voltarian! I made a note of it. Somebody might notice!
He took out a redstar engineer’s rag and protected the bird’s eyes and air holes and rapidly sprayed its feathers. Of course, the oil vanished.
Then he unstuck its feet, wiped them off and sprayed them. He inspected the bird, found a couple of spots he had missed and handled those. He was always so maddeningly neat!
He took out a water bottle and filled the cap. The bird, head loose by now, started to strike, then thought better of it and took some water from the cap. The bird did it several times.
“You were dehydrated,” said Heller. “It’s the hot sun. Now take a few more sips.” What a fool. He was talking to it in Voltarian and it was an Earth bird!
Then he took out half a sandwich and broke it up and laid it on the grass. The bird stretched its wings, doubtless with some surprise. It was going to fly away but saw the sandwich and decided to have lunch first.
“Now, that’s a good bird,” said Heller. “You stay away from that black stuff. It’s oil, understand? Petroleum!”
The bird let out some kind of a squawk and went on eating the sandwich. I don’t know why it squawked. It couldn’t understand Voltarian.
Heller looked around. Of course, the Nature Appreciation class was gone. Heller listened intently. He heard nothing. He did a fast scout.
And then he was sniffing. What the Hells was he sniffing about?
He glanced back. The seagull was just taking off. It sailed by him and curved outward over the river and was gone.
Sniffing some more, Heller trotted ahead and was shortly in the reception center of the General Assembly Building, according to the signs. There was even an information sign but he didn’t approach it.
He seemed to find the place very curious. The light was coming through the walls from outside in a translucent effect. He went over to a wall and examined it to find out why, probably.
He went over into the Assembly Hall and there was the class.
Miss Simmons was lecturing. “…and here it is that the delegates could rise with one voice and in stentorian and noble tones denounce nuclear weapons forever. But alas, they do not. The men who occupy this place are silenced by their own fears. They cower…”
Heller was examining some marble.
The class trailed out on Miss Simmons’ heels and, with her still lecturing and totally ignoring the guide who seemed to have attached himself to the party, went into the Conference Building and were shortly in the gallery of a chamber labelled: