“Ah’ll have to ask yew to move,” Pigbaigh told Ludmilla. “Ah’m ’sponsible foah the colonel heah, an’ Ah can’t have him consortin’ with yew till we get yoah final see-curity clearance.”
“But Ah’m enjoyin’ this heah lady’s company,” Jonathan Relevant protested.
“Now, Colonel, it’s foah yoah own pertection.” Pigbaigh pulled Ludmilla from the seat and sat down in it.
The plane winged inland. Ludmilla sulked. Pigbaigh dozed and snored. Jonathan Relevant sat quietly and thought about Jonathan Relevant.
He had a few more pieces to add to the puzzle which was himself. Not enough to see the picture. Not enough to answer the questions of who and what he was, or why he was here. Just enough to fit together a few more insights into himself.
He’d learned that he could feel emotion as well as tactile sensation. For instance, fear. He’d felt that when facing the diving Russian plane.
And relief. When his eyes met those of the lead pilot, Jonathan Relevant experienced that automatic rapport which was a part of him and knew that the Soviet pilot also experienced it. In that instant he knew that the Russian wouldn’t fire and he felt relief.
And guilt. “It was them or me," he alibied when the six men died. But he knew that didn’t matter; the choice was wrong. “Be glad you’re alive,” he told himself.
“I am."
“Then why be a bleeding heart?”
“Because I am that too.”
And he accepted that piece of the puzzle, anticipating that it would eventually fit into place.
“I’m apolitical.” He thought about what he’d told Ludmilla. It was so. But it didn’t mean he was uninvolved. Just that he wasn’t partisan. People, not creeds, were the important thing.
“I suppose you think that’s pretty damn profound?”
“The greatest profundities, the real truths, always turn out to be simple and trite,” he told himself smugly.
“Hoo-hah! Look who thinks he’s Herman Hesse!”
“I could be worse things.”
“I can see you’re going to be pretty hard to live with. You could get to be a real drag!”
“What’s wrong with pinning down the verities?”
“It makes you self-righteous. One thing the world doesn’t need is any more righteousness. You could fill an ocean with the blood spilled in the name of Right.”
“Yes. But I can’! be for Wrong. It’s against my nature."
Another piece for the puzzle.
“Right? Wrong? Semantics! Like love! You told Ludmilla you loved her.”
“It's true!”
“Maybe. But is it right? You know damn well that ‘love’ to you means something very different than it does to her. After all, you love Pigbaigh too.”
“But I don't like him.”
“You love him. You love everybody. Maybe you’re really a cocker spaniel.”
“I can't help it. It's how I feel. I do love everybody."
“Shove it up your heart!”
But it was another piece of the puzzle, and Jonathan Relevant accepted it.
He was still debating the meaning of the pieces with himself when the CIA plane landed at a small, private airport in the mid-Eastern section of the country. Here the passengers transferred to a limousine for the last lap of their journey. About twenty minutes later the car passed through the gates of Harnell University and braked to a halt in front of the imposing facade of the main building of the newly erected Graduate Study Science Research Institute. Pigbaigh led the way inside.
“Welcome to the research institute on behalf of Condom-Inium, Inc.” A very tall, thin, fortyish man with close-cropped gray hair greeted them. “I’m Peter Glover, head troubleshooter for Condom at the institute. And this is Harnell Chancellor Hardlign.”
“Harnell University is honored to make the resources of its research institute available to you gentlemen.” Chancellor Hardlign was around the same age as Glover, a foot shorter, stockily built, slightly balding, distinguished-looking .
Mutt and Jeff. That's how they looked in tandem. And they cordially hated each other for it.
“Naow, tellers, it’s right nice o’ yew to be on han’ to greet us,” Pigbaigh said. “But we mought’s well put one thang straight from the start. This heah’s a gov’ment operation. Cee Ah Aih’ll be in charge.”
“B~b-but this is a p-private institution!” Chancellor Hardlign sputtered.
“Shoot! Where’d y’al1 be ’thout Cee Ah Aih fundin’?” Pig- baigh reminded him. “Harnell’d be jes’ one moah jerkwater college on the skids ’thout we underwrote yoah research program.”
“You forget that Condom-Inium participated in the financing dollar for dollar,” Glover remarked icily. “Naturally we are entitled to participate in any of the benefits accruing from the research done here. And that includes any involving Jonathan Relevant.”
“Condom-whatchamacallit ain’t but a subsidiary o’ Viet Rubber.” Pigbaigh put him straight. “Case yew don’t know it, Viet Rubber op’rates on gov’ment subsidies what have to be cleared with Cee Ah Aih. So ain’t gonna be no trouble ’bout ouah usin’ the Thank Tank heah at Harnell. An’ naow”—syrup trickled back into his tone—“Ah s’pec yew’d like to meet Colonel Jonathan Relevant. This heah’s Mr. Peter Glover o’ Condom.” He introduced them.
“Mr. Relevant.” Peter Glover grasped Jonathan Relevant’s hand firmly and pumped it. “You know, sir, you bear a striking resemblance to the head of the National Association of Manufacturers.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I don’t pay compliments lightly. I can tell that you’re a hard-headed, no-nonsense businessman, just as I am myself. It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, sir.”
“I’m sure we’ll get along.” I wouldn't be Jonathan Relevant if I wasn’t sure.
“You can bet your blue chips on that!”
“ ‘The business of America is business,’ ” Jonathan Relevant heard himself quoting.
“Where are you, Cal Coolidge, now that we need you?" Peter Glover sighed.
“An’ this heah’s Chancellor Hardlign o’ Harrell.” Pigbaigh continued the introductions.
“I’m very interested in education,” Jonathan Relevant told the chancellor as they shook hands.
“It’s the country’s investment in its future.” The chancellor responded warmly. “It’s an honor to meet someone who recognizes its importance.”
“There is no higher calling than that of a dedicated educator,” Jonathan Relevant said sincerely. “Only such men can hope to raise the level of mankind as a whole.”
“How true! How true!” Chancellor Hardlign beamed.
“Of course, the dedicated educator must always be careful not to compromise away his standards in the effort.”
“Uh . . . yes. . . .” The chancellor drifted away, looking pensive. He’d just remembered a bit of fund-raising business which would have to be attended to tomorrow. The chancellor was renowned for his fund-raising ability.
Jonathan Relevant was shown to a room in the living quarters of the research institute. When he was alone, he undressed and lay down on the bed. He gazed out the one window at the statue of the black Angel Gabriel on the mall. He noticed immediately that Gabriel was lacking a penis.
“And you think you’ve got troubles!” Jonathan Relevant snorted to Jonathan Relevant.
After a while he saw a small group of young men approach the statue. Their faces shone brown and black in the moonlight. There was the hissing sound of a soldering iron, followed by the flare of a welder’s torch. A half hour passed and the group departed.