“Such as?”
“Growing arms and hands on dolphins, so that they can perform underwater tasks.”
He closed his eyes in pain. “Why not just switch man around so that he has gills and can breathe underwater?”
“That too is quite possible. However, man is a land animal, Jule. I told you how much we fear playing God.”
He said, “My mind is reeling. Look, in this mythological zoo things do you have, say mermaids and centaurs?”
“No, nor the sphinx—a man’s head on a lion’s body—though it would be possible to create them. However, we have no desire to make such mockeries of men. Theoretically, I suppose, they could come up with a vampire of the Dracula school.” She thought about it, her mouth twisted in amusement. “The basic requirements would be a man-type creature that was allergic to daylight and who could live on blood.”
“Live on blood! Come on now. No mammal could live on a blood diet.”
“Vampire bats do, don’t they? Those down in the tropics of Mexico. Also that tribe of Africans, the Masai, or whatever their name was… didn’t they live on an exclusive diet of cow’s blood and milk? That’s fairly near to it. Perhaps they’d have to feed our artificially manufactured vampire vitamin and mineral supplements or something.”
Julian attempted to enter into the spirit of the thing. “But sun allergy and living on blood were only two of the requirements. How about killing them by driving a stake through their hearts, or shooting them with a silver bullet?”
“I’d think either method would be effective with just about any human-type creature, vampire or otherwise.”
“Well, how about them being able to turn themselves into either a bat or a wolf?”
It was her turn to laugh. “I surrender. I think science will have to experiment around a bit more before that would be possible.”
“I’d hate to see them turn out even the abbreviated vampire you say is now possible.”
“Good heavens, sir, I didn’t say they would; I simply said they could.”
“I don’t know how we got off this track. But this genetic engineering, as you called it… If your biologists and genetic engineers can mess around with life to this extent, why don’t you, say, double the I.Q.—or triple it, for that matter—of every new child born?”
“It’s been considered. In fact, the debate still goes on, and possibly will for years. I told you they were treading carefully, Jule. You see, we’re a bit leery of having the godhead turned over to the race.”
“Well, certainly, if it were possible to assure that every new child born had an I.Q. of at least one-hundred fifty…”
Edith sighed before interrupting him. “That’s the basic problem, Jule. What would you rather be, smart or happy?”
He regarded her dubiously. “Are they necessarily in conflict with each other?”
“That’s what we don’t know. Let us say that one hundred is the average intelligent quotient. A person with an I.Q. of fifty is most likely an unhappy person. But is a person with an I.Q. of one-hundred fifty also out of step with society? Not to speak of one with an I.Q. of two-hundred or even higher.”
“Damned if I know, but if everyone was upped to an I.Q. of two-hundred, they’d all be in the same boat.”
She nodded. “That’s the way the argument goes. But there are ramifications. For instance, when I was a young girl, for some reason not clear to me now, everybody wanted to be tall. Especially men wanted to be at least six feet. A man six-feet-four, or taller, was particularly admired. Why? Why was the Swede with an average height of something like six feet considered superior to, say, a Japanese, whose average was a bit over five feet? At the time of their conquest, the Aztecs averaged less than five feet, their women about four feet, eight inches. It didn’t seem to be a handicap.”
He shook his head. “I never thought about it.”
She said, “The world is still overpopulated. Why don’t we let our genetic engineers breed down the size of our people to three feet? It would save both food and room. Our houses, our cars, everything could become one half the size, use one half the materials to construct.”
“Why three feet?” he complained. “Why not one foot?”
“Why not? That’s the question. When man issued forth from the caves a few thousand years ago, it was necessary for him to be as big as possible to fight off his animal enemies, and as smart as possible to solve the problems that confronted him. It seems unlikely that the very earliest man was much smarter than, say, the chimpanzee and probably not too much larger. He upgraded himself through natural selection. Those who were smaller were killed off, both by animals and by his fellow man. He was also eliminated from breeding, because the larger males took all the desirable, healthy females. The same applied to I.Q. The more stupid fell by the wayside, leaving the more intelligent to breed and pass on their genes.”
“That’s pretty basic—and obvious.”
“Very well, Jule. The question now becomes, in this age, why should being either big, or more intelligent, be desirable?”
“This is the damnedest debate I think I’ve ever been in. Ever since I was a child, 1 wanted to be a good physical specimen and as smart as possible.”
“I didn’t say anything against being a good physical specimen. Size has nothing to do with that. But there’s your basic question. Would man be happier if he had an average I.Q. of two-hundred, or three-thousand, or whatever? And that is one of the big questions being argued by our best authorities on the matter.”
“And what answers do they come up with?”
“None, so far. We are in no hurry. As I told you, we have become more humble of recent decades. We are very cold-bloodedly deciding where we want to go, and trying to decide whether future generations will agree with the path we choose. We are very humble, Jule.”
He said, “Every day that passes, I come up against things that flabbergast me. What do you say we go on? Not only do I want to see a saber-toothed tiger, but I’m just dying to examine what your biologists have cooked up in the way of a dragon.” He added, grinning, “By the way, they haven’t come up with a Push-You-Pull-Me, have they? A mythical beast out of Doctor Doolittle?”
“I’m sorry. That one escapes me.”
“You’ve neglected some required childhood reading. It was an animal that looked somewhat like a horse, and had a head on each end.”
It was her turn to look blank. “How did it—”
“Damned if I know. I never figured it out.”
She smiled. “Well, let’s go see the sabertooth.”
He said, “Just a moment. First, possibly we should talk about that discussion I was having with your Father.”
She settled back into her seat on the bench. “I forgot. It’s always so fascinating to bring these new things to you.”
He said very deliberately, “Your apartment and mine have been bugged. That is, someone has tapped both our TV phones, and has installed electronic devices that enable them to hear every conversation that takes place in your apartment. I’ve gimmicked the one bug they had in my place, but I assume they’ll either try to repair it or put a new one in shortly.”
She eyed him. “But… who?”
“I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions. Your father is evidently knee-deep in what we would have called ‘politics’ in my time.”
Her eyes turned thoughtful.
Julian said softly, “I lied to young Sean the other day.”