“You have seen the picture in question. You have remarked, possibly, upon what has been called the startling resemblance of the actors in that picture to the characters named and portrayed. You have remarked, possibly, upon the apparent verisimilitude to reality. That I will mention again. The first witness will, I believe, establish the trend of our rebuttal of the allegations of the prosecution.” He called the first witness.
“Your name, please?”
“Mercedes Maria Gomez.”
“A little louder, please.”
“Mercedes Maria Gomez.”
“Your occupation?”
“Until last March I was a teacher at the Arizona School for the Deaf. Then I asked for and obtained a leave of absence. At present I am under personal contract to Mr. Lefko.”
“If you see Mr. Lefko in this courtroom, Miss… Mrs…. ”
“Miss.”
“Thank you. If Mr. Lefko is in this court, will you point him out? Thank you. Will you tell us the extent of your duties at the Arizona school?”
“I taught children born totally deaf to speak. And to read lips.”
“Do you read lips yourself, Miss Gomez?”
“I have been totally deaf since I was fifteen.”
“You lip-read in English only?”
“English and Spanish. We have… had many children of Mexican descent.”
Samuels asked for a designated Spanish-speaking interpreter. An officer in the back immediately volunteered. He was identified by his ambassador, who was present.
“Will you take this book to the rear of the courtroom, sir?” (To the Court): “If the prosecution wishes to examine that book, they will find that it is a Spanish edition of the Bible.” The prosecution didn’t wish to examine it.
“Will the officer open the Bible at random and read aloud?” He opened the Bible at the center and read. In dead silence the Court strained to hear. Nothing could be heard the length of the enormous hall.
Samuels: “Miss Gomez. Will you take these binoculars and repeat, to the court, just what the officer is reading at the other end of the room?”
She took the binoculars and focused them expertly on the officer, who had stopped reading and was watching alertly. “I am ready.”
Samuels: “Will you please read, sir?”
He did, and the woman repeated aloud, quickly and easily, a section that sounded as though it might be anything at all. I can’t speak Spanish. The officer continued to read for a minute or two.
Samuels: “Thank you, sir. And thank you, Miss Gomez. Your pardon, sir, but since there are several who have been known to memorize the Bible, will you tell the Court if you have anything on your person that is written, anything that Miss Gomez has no chance of viewing?” Yes, the officer had. “Will you read that as before? Will you, Miss Gomez—”
She read that, too. Then the officer came to the front to listen to the court reporter read Miss Gomez’s words.
“That’s what I read,” he affirmed.
Samuels turned her over to the prosecution, who made more experiments that served only to convince that she was equally good as interpreter and a lip-reader in either language.
In rapid succession Samuels put the rest of the lip-readers on the stand. In rapid succession they proved themselves as able and as capable as Miss Gomez, in their own linguistic speciality. The Russian from Ambridge generously offered to translate into his broken English any other Slavic language handy, and drew scattered grins from the press box. The Court was convinced, but failed to see the purpose of the exhibition. Samuels, glowing with satisfaction and confidence, faced the Court.
“Thanks to the indulgence of the Court, and despite the efforts of the distinguished prosecution, we have proved the almost amazing accuracy of lipreading in general, and these lip-readers in particular.” One judge absently nodded in agreement. “Therefore, our defense will be based on that premise, and on one other which we have until now found necessary to keep hidden — the picture in question was and is definitely not a fictional representation of events of questionable authenticity. Every scene in that film contained not polished professional actors but the original person named and portrayed. Every foot, every inch of film, was not the result of an elaborate studio reconstruction but an actual collection of pictures, an actual collection of newsreels — if they can be called that — edited and assembled in story form!”
Through the startled spurt of astonishment we heard one from the prosecution: “That’s ridiculous! No newsreel—”
Samuels ignored the objections and the tumult and put me on the stand. Beyond the usual preliminary questions I was allowed to say things my own way. At first hostile, the Court became interested enough to overrule the repeated objections that flew from the table devoted to the prosecution. I felt that at least two of the Court, if not outright favorable, were friendly. As far as I can remember, I went over the maneuvers of the past years and ended something like this:
“As to why we arranged the cards to fall as they did: both Mr. Laviada and myself were unable to face the prospect of destroying his discovery, because of the inevitable penalizing of needed research. We were, and we are, unwilling to better ourselves or a limited group by the use and maintenance of secrecy, if secrecy were possible. As to the only other alternative,” and I directed this straight at Judge Bronson, the well-known liberal on the bench, “since the last war all atomic research and activity have been under the direction of a board nominally civilian, but actually under the ‘protection and direction’ of the Army and Navy. This ‘direction and protection’, as any competent physicist will gladly attest, has proved to be nothing but a smothering blanket serving to conceal hide-bound antiquated reasoning, abysmal ignorance, and inestimable amounts of fumbling. As of right now, this country, or any country that was foolish enough to place any confidence in the rigid regime of the military mind, is years behind what would otherwise be the natural course of discovery and progress in nuclear and related fields.
“We were, and we are, firmly convinced that even the slightest hint of the inherent possibilities and scope of Mr. Laviada’s discovery would have meant, under the present regime, instant and mandatory confiscation of even a supposedly secure patent. Mr. Laviada has never applied for a patent, and never will. We both feel that such a discovery belongs not to an individual, a group, a corporation, or even to a nation, but to the world and those who live in it.
“We know, and are eager and willing to prove, that the domestic and external affairs of not only this nation, but of every nation are influenced, sometimes controlled, by esoteric groups warping political theories and human lives to suit their own ends.” The Court was smothered in sullen silence, thick and acid with hate and disbelief.
“Secret treaties, for example, and vicious, lying propaganda have too long controlled human passions and made men hate; honored thieves have too long rotted secretly in undeserved high places. The machine can make treachery and untruth impossible. It must, if atomic war is not to sear the face and fate of the world.
“Our pictures were all made with that end in view. We needed, first, the wealth and prominence to present to an international audience what we knew to be the truth. We have done as much as we can. From now on, this Court takes over the burden we have carried. We are guilty of no treachery, guilty of no deceit, guilty of nothing but deep and true humanity. Mr. Laviada wishes me to tell the Court and the world that he has been unable till now to give his discovery to the world, free to use as it wills.”
The Court stared at me. Every foreign representative was on the edge of his seat waiting for the judges to order us shot without further ado, the sparkling uniforms were seething, and the pressmen were racing their pencils against time. The tension dried my throat. The speech that Samuels and I had rehearsed the previous night was strong medicine. Now what?