"All right," I said. "After all, if it doesn't work out, no one will ever have to know we came up with such a crazy idea."
"That's what I like about you, Iris: your confidence in me. See you tomorrow."
—
We arrived on the Hayward campus at two o'clock sharp the next day—and it took only ten minutes for my hopes of keeping this idea under wraps to be completely destroyed.
They were waiting for us outside the door to Jordan's office: a man and woman, both dressed in conservative business suits. I recognized them from TV news shorts of the previous year, but before I could clue Dan in they had stepped forward to intercept us. "Dr. Staley?" the man said. "My name's John Cooper; this is Helen Reese. I wonder if we might have a word with you?" He gestured down the hall to where the door of a small lounge was visible.
"We have an appointment with Dr. Jordan," I put in.
"He's not back from class yet," Mrs. Reese said. "This will only take a few minutes, if you don't mind."
Dan shrugged. "All right," he said agreeably.
The others remained silent until we were seated in a small circle in a corner of the otherwise deserted lounge. "Dr. Staley, we understand you're planning some sort of experiment with Dr. Jordan to determine when life begins," Cooper said, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about this, if we may."
Dan cocked an eyebrow. "I fail, first of all, to see how you learned about my private conversation with Dr. Jordan," he said calmly, "and, secondly, to understand what business it is of yours."
"Mr. Cooper is the Bay Area president of the Family Alliance," I told him. "Mrs. Reese is their chief antiabortion advocate."
They both looked at me with surprise. "I see," Dan nodded. "Well, that explains the second part of my question. You folks want to take a crack at the first part now?"
"How we heard about it is unimportant," Mrs. Reese said. "What is important is that we find out how you stand on the abortion issue." Dan blinked. "Why?"
"Surely, Doctor, you understand the highly subjective nature of the experiment you're planning," she said. "Naturally, we need to know what your own beliefs are concerning when life arises."
"My telepathic ability is not subjective," Dan said, a bit stiffly. "It's as scientific and accurate as anything you'd care to name. Whatever my beliefs happen to be, I can assure you they do not interfere with either my perception or interpretation."
"Beliefs always affect interpretation, to one degree or another," Cooper said. "Now, you yourself said you could prove the fetus wasn't human until the second trimester of pregnancy. It seems to us that, with such an attitude, you would be very likely to interpret any brain activity before that point as 'nonhuman,' whether it is or not."
Dan looked at me. "Iris?" he invited.
I nodded. "The exact quote, Dr. Cooper, was as follows: 'At worst, I may be able to show that a fetus isn't human during the entire first month or trimester or whatever.' End quote. Dr. Staley made no assumptions in that statement. I suggest you ask your spies to be more accurate in the future."
Reese bristled. "We weren't spying on anyone, Miss Marx; the information relayed to us was obtained quite legitimately."
"I'm sure it was," Dan said, getting to his feet. "Now if you'll excuse us, Dr. Jordan is expecting us."
The rest of us stood, as well. "We haven't finished our conversation, though—" Cooper began.
"Yes, we have," Dan interrupted him. "If—if, mind you—I do this experiment it'll be because I'm convinced it can be done objectively and accurately. If you have any suggestions or comments you're welcome to write them up and send them to my office. Good day."
Threading between them, we left the lounge.
Jordan and Dr. Pamela Halladay were waiting for us when we arrived back at Jordan's office. "Sorry we're late," Dan told them after quick handshakes all around, "but we ran into the local ethics committee. Any idea how the Family Alliance might have overheard our conversation, Dr. Jordan?"
The two of them exchanged glances, then Jordan grimaced. "My secretary, probably," he said. "I called Pam right after I talked to you, and the door to her office was open. I'm sorry; it never occurred to me that she'd go off and tell anyone." "No harm done," Dan shrugged. "Let's forget it and get down to business, shall we?"
"Your idea sounds very interesting, Dr. Staley," Halladay said, "but I think there are one or two technical points that need clearing up. First of all, would you be following a single fetus from conception to term, or would you try to reach a group of fetuses at various stages of growth?"
"I hadn't really thought that much about it," Dan said slowly. "I suppose the second method would be faster."
"It would give better statistics, too," Jordan said. "What do you think, Pam— would a hundred be enough?"
"A hundred subjects?" Dan said, looking a little taken aback.
"Well, sure. If you want this to have scientific validity you'll need a reasonable sample. Why?—did you have a smaller number in mind?"
"Yeah. About ten." Dan frowned. "Maybe we could compromise at twenty- five or so."
"You cut the sample too small and it won't be scientific enough to satisfy the skeptics," Jordan warned.
"Whether it'll be scientific enough anyway was my second question," Halladay put in.
We all looked at her. "What do you mean?" Jordan asked.
"Oh, come on now, Eliot—the heart of the scientific method is the reproducibility of an experiment. With only one proven telepath on Earth, this one is inherently unrepeatable. Whatever Dr. Staley concludes we'll have to take on faith."
"Are you suggesting I might lie?" Dan asked quietly.
"No—I'm suggesting you might misinterpret what you hear. How are you going to know, say, whether the differences you see are human versus nonhuman or simply four months versus two months?"
Dan nodded. "I see. I wondered why you hadn't told Dr. Jordan you'd seen Cooper and Mrs. Reese loitering out in the hall earlier. You called them down on us, didn't you?"
Halladay's face reddened. "No, I... uh... look, I didn't expect anyone to come out here and ambush you like that. I just wanted to know whether you were pro- or antiabortion; if you'd ever taken a public stand on the issue. I mean, they keep files on that sort of thing." Jordan was looking at his co-worker as if she'd just shown a KGB membership card. "Pam! What on earth—"
"It's all right, Dr. Jordan. As I said before, no harm done." Dan turned to Halladay, and there was a glint in his eye I didn't often see. "I'll tell you what I told your friends: I'm not doing this to push anyone's opinions, and that includes any I might have. If you have to pigeonhole me anywhere, put me down as 'protruth.' I won't wear any other labels, understand?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Doctor." She smiled wanly. "I guess I'm not immune to the emotions the whole subject generates. I'll keep my feelings to myself from now on—I promise."
"Will you prove your sincerity?" Dan leaned forward and offered his hand.
She frowned at it for a second before understanding flickered across her face. Then, visibly steeling herself, she reached out and gingerly took his hand. They held the position for nearly twenty seconds before Dan released his grip and sat back. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sure you'll be a great help to us." Turning to Jordan, he nodded. "Now then, are we ready to begin working out some of the details?"