“I’ll talk to them too,” Frank promised.-
“I’m afraid some of the Negro groups may raise similar objections about discrimination,” the Professor said anxiously.
“Are you discriminating against Negroes?”
“Absolutely not!” Professor Woocheck was indignant.
“Then let’s deal with that when and if it comes up,” Frank decided. “I think I’ve got enough concrete problems to cope with for a while.” He got to his feet. “I’ll let you know how I make out,” he told the Professor. “Try not to worry. Try to keep your mind on your work. Remember, Pasteur and Ehrlich had to buck the public too. That’s how it is with those in the vanguard of science.”
“I can’t tell you how much your faith in the project means to me,” Professor Woocheck replied sincerely. “To know that at least one layman is capable of appreciating the value of our work—”
“You’re not just in the forefront of science,” Frank told him earnestly. “You’re also carrying forward the philosophy of Swami Rhee Va, the tenets of Causocratic Effectivism. As a true believer, I’m only being true to myself in helping you.” With those zealous words, Frank bid the Professor good day and departed.
It was still early in the afternoon when he arrived back at his office. He sat down at his desk and mulled over the problems of the Observatory. Then, having weighed possible consequences in keeping with his beliefs, Frank made several telephone calls and arranged a series of appointments.
He arrived at the headquarters of the Flintsburgh B’nal Brith to keep the first of them at ten the following morning. Mr. Birnbaum, head of the local chapter, greeted him affably. He was just as affable as Frank explained the situation; and when he finished listening, he summoned two other members of the organization to his office.
“Mr. Pollener,” he introduced Frank, “this is Mr. Levy, head of our local Anti-Defamation League, and Mr. Klein, in charge of investigating discrimination in employment.” When they’d shaken hands all around and seated themselves, Mr. Birnbaum repeated what Frank had told him to the other two. “We seem to have trapped Science in a squeeze-play it would take a Talmudic scholar to extricate it from,” he summed up.
“Well, we can’t have an image of Jewish promiscuity circulated,” Mr. Levy pointed out.
“Nor can we have Jews discriminated against in the hiring practices of an organization which is, after all, tax-free because of its scientific researches, and therefore, in a sense, subsidized by the public, some of whom are Jewish,” Mr. Klein retorted, becoming a little short of breath as he hacked his way out of the sentence.
“But it’s impossible for the Observatory to comply with both your stipulations,” Frank reasoned. “Can’t we work out some sort of compromise?"
They could. And they did. Later that afternoon, calling to relieve Professor Woocheck’s mind about at least one of the Observatory’s problems, Frank explained the compromise solution.
“First of all, in any published work resulting from the study, you’re pledged not to give statistics separating Jews from non-Jews.”
“We intended no such breakdown,” Professor Woocheck assured him. “Unlike the Kinsey study, ours is to be weighted on the biological, rather than the sociological side.”
“Good. Secondly,” Frank continued, “there is to be no quota limiting the number of male Jewish subjects. On the other hand, an effort is to be made to limit the number of female Jewish subjects so that the total of male and female shall not total more than the proportion of Jews to the population as a whole.”
“But won’t that mean we’ll have many more male Jews participating than female Jews?”
“Exactly. It has to do with an unstated ethnic ethic. Traditionally, the Jewish young man sows his wild oats with non-Jewish girls. This is winked at. But the Jewish girl sows no oats—at least in theory. You see, the Anti-Defamation branch isn’t worried about creating a stereotype of a promiscuous male, but they don’t want even the glimmering of such a picture of the Jewish female.”
“All right. What else?”
“No Jewish subjects of either gender are to participate in the program on Saturdays. The B’nai Brith wants to avoid any friction with Orthodox synagogues.”
“Suppose the subjects are Reformed Jews?”
“It still applies. It’s a matter of tradition, rather than belief.”
“I’ll see that we stick to it,” Professor Woocheck promised. “Is there anything else?”
“Well, one thing that they didn’t really ask for, but I sort of volunteered. To cement good relations, so to speak.”
“What’s that?”
“For every ten Jewish volunteers you use, you plant a tree in Israel.”
“Agreed,” Professor said. “I think you’ve straightened the situation out admirably, Mr. Pollener. Many thanks!’
“You’re welcome,” Frank told him. “I only hope I have as much success with your other problems. I’ll be in touch,” he added. “Goodbye.” He hung up the phone.
Frank left the telephone booth from which he’d called, stopped off in a cocktail lounge for a drink, lingered over it, then decided to have an early dinner and catch up on his sleep. It was still early when he arrived back at his apartment, so he got into his pajamas, propped himself up in bed, and read from The Handbook of Causocratic Effectivism and other writings of the Swami Rhee Va for a while. He was staring off into space and mumbling a particularly meaningful sentence to himself a while later when the telephone rang. He got out of bed and went into the living room to answer it.
“A-B-C-D-L-F-N.”
“M-N-O-L-F-N,” Frank obediently replied.
“S-E-S-N-L-F-N!”
“Memory fails me,” Frank confessed wearily. “What do you want, Fig?”
“Gee, how could you forget a thing like that? The times the old frat-house rang out with the L-F-N cries! I get nostalgic just looking back at—”
“Look, Fig, if you called up just to reminisce, let’s forget it, huh? Make it some other time. I’m hushed tonight and I was just about to sack down. I’ll call you in a few days. Okay?” Frank started to hang up.
“Wait! That’s not why I called. This is an emergency. All hell’s breaking loose with the Observatory!”
“Well, why didn’t you say so instead of starting with that juvenile nonsense?”
“You know what your trouble is, Frank? You have no sense of tradition, that’s what!”
“Yeah, I know. Now suppose you tell me what’s happened?”
“I’m not too clear on it myself. I just got a call from Dr. Peerloin. She’s in jail. It seems the Vice Squad raided the Observatory.”
“Oh, no! Why would they do that? Are they holding Professor Woocheck too?”
“No. Only Dr. Peerloin and some of the new staff members. She was conducting a training session with them and a few of our more experienced subjects. You know, so they could get an on-the-spot idea of how things work.”
“Fig” went on to give Frank the details of where Dr. Peerloin and the others were being held.
“I’ll get right down there,” Frank promised and hung up on “Fig.” Then he dialed the number of the precinct station and spoke to the desk sergeant.
“That bunch is already on their way down to Night Court,” the desk sergeant informed Frank. “They should come up before the judge in about an hour.”
“What’s the charge?” Frank demanded.
“Soliciting for immoral purposes.”
“But they weren’t soliciting anyone! It was all volunteer participation. Whose bright idea was it to raid them anyway?” "
“Search me. You’ll have to talk to the Vice Squad lieutenant. I guess you can catch up with him down at Night Court too.”
Frank muttered a “Thanks,” hung up and scrambled into his clothes.
Twenty minutes later he paid off the driver of the cab, which had dropped him in front of the Criminal Court Building where Night Court was held. An experienced attorney, he didn’t go directly to the hearing room. First he stopped off and made arrangements with a bondsman he knew to post bail for as many clients as he should find himself called upon to handle. When he and the bondsman finally did arrive at Night Court, the Venus BioErotic Observatory case was just being called. Frank went through the formalities of entering a blanket “Not Guilty” plea, arranging a trial date convenient to the judge, the prosecutor and himself, the establishing and providing of bail so that his clients wouldn’t have to spend the night in jail. Then Frank spoke a few reassuring words to Dr. Peerloin and the others, sent them along home and finally got down to the real business of their defense.