“The only way to forget about this young man,” Dr. Peerloin advised, “is to keep yourself busy with other young men.”
“I don’t date much,” Mercy admitted. “The men I meet all seem to be so shallow.”
“You must force yourself to get over that attitude,” Dr. Peerloin advised firmly. “Particularly right now when it’s so necessary to distract yourself. You should grab at the opportunity to go out with any young man. You should—” The ringing of the telephone interrupted Dr. Peerloin. She answered it. “Yes, Mr. Newton, she’s right here.” Dr. Peerloin handed Mercy the phone . . .
“Fig” was waiting with the two girls when Frank arrived at the night club where they were to meet that evening. He and Gloria were facing the entrance. They waved to Frank as he entered. Frank walked over to them, admiring the bare shoulders of the girl with her back to him as he came, wondering what she’d look like from the front, hoping she wasn’t a dog. He came around the table so “Fig” could introduce him.
Mercy looked up and turned chalk-white. Her eyeballs rolled up into their sockets. She slumped forward.
“Some water!” Gloria called anxiously to a passing waiter. “I think she’s fainted!”
“One chance in eighteen billion, seven hundred and eighty-three million, nine hundred and seventy-two thousand, four hundred and fifteen,” Frank sobbed bitterly. “You and your goddam computer!”
“Four hundred sixteen,” “Fig” remembered. It was all he could think of to say.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Once the hurdle of virginity had been surmounted, some (if not all) of the investigators breathed more easily. Enough time had elapsed since the inception of the program by now so that those concerned with the socio-psychological manifestations resulting from the various biological sex functions performed felt justified in evaluating certain of the material concerned with attitudes, reactions, etc. With the sociographers being human, it was necessary to have their own attitudes also evaluated by one another - to guard against weighting the results. These endeavors proceeded smoothly and the erotic experiments continued apace, lulling the staff and project directors into a false sense of security. However, this was shattered by the accidental primigravida still threatening the Observatory’s very existence . . .”
Chapter Six, Survey of Bio-Erotic Behavior
Patterns in Human Beings,
by Woocheck & Peerloin
Well, what about universal orgasm? Isn’t it every woman’s inalienable right? Even mothers? Even Mothers for Morality? Such were the questions Frank would find himself raising before the day was over.
The day was Thursday. It began with a telephone call to Mrs. Slocum. At first she had balked at meeting with Frank. But when he had pointed out that there might be some way of handling matters that could spare the Slocum family untoward publicity about daughter Lila’s condition, Mrs. Slocum had reluctantly agreed to see him.
Anxious to convince Mrs. Slocum of the humanitarian worth of the project she was attacking, Frank brought Professor Woocheck along in the hope that his dignity and dedication would help impress the point on her. Mrs. Slocum, however, remained unimpressed. “The only way I will drop my plea for an injunction pending a grand jury investigation,” she told them both firmly, “is if the Observatory agrees to voluntarily close its doors, cease all operations and stop lending a cloak of science to out-and-out libertinism.”
“That’s out of the question.” Frank’s position was equally firm. “We’re willing to compromise, but we’re not going to accept a total defeat that will destroy our existence without putting up a fight. And that fight could be very painful for you and yours, Mrs. Slocum. Believe me, it would be better for all concerned if we can work out a compromise before the case comes to court and the newspapers focus on it.”
“I’m sorry. I will not compromise what I believe in. If my daughter gets hurt—well, perhaps it will be just punishment for her. And I am strong enough to bear whatever I have to bear.”
“Are you?” It was dirty pool, but Frank felt obliged to use whatever ammunition was at his disposal. “Would this really be worth having another nervous breakdown, Mrs. Slocum?”
“That doesn’t concern you!” Her words were angry ice-chunks.
“Perhaps not. But if you persist in forcing Judge O’Neill to issue an injunction which will stop the Observatory’s work, then we’ll have to fight back by issuing a statement to the press accusing Mothers for Morality of being led by a mental incompetent.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me, Mr. Pollener!”
“No. I’m just trying to—”
“Yes you are!” She stood up and pointed indignantly at the door. “But it won’t work. Get out!”
Frank and the Professor had no choice but to leave. Outside, the Professor turned to Frank and gently remonstrated with him. “You were trying to blackmail her,” he said.
“I suppose so.” Frank sighed. “But what else can we do?”
“Reason,” the Professor suggested. “If Mrs. Slocum won’t listen to it, perhaps the other ladies in her organization will.”
“Mmm.” Frank thought about it. “But Mrs. Slocum would never let us talk to the group,” he pointed out. “And besides, Judge O’Neill will hand down the injunction today if they ask for it.”
“Then they must be meeting today,” the Professor surmised. “That could be your chance.”
“Maybe. If only there were some way of getting Mrs. Slocum out of the meeting while I talked to them.”
“The first thing to do,” the Professor suggested, “is to find out where and when the meeting is to be held. I think Dr. Peerloin might be helpful there.”
They took a cab back to the Venus Observatory. Professor Woocheck explained the problem to Dr. Peerloin and came up with his idea of how she might help. A few moments later Dr. Peerloin was on the phone with Mrs. Slocum.
“My name is Mrs. Amanda P. Vanderveer,” Dr. Peerloin lied. “I am very interested in the moral problems confronting mothers today. I understand you are connected with a group which has similar concerns. I would very much like to attend your next meeting and perhaps join the group. Can you give me any information?”
The receiver crackled for a while. Then Dr. Peerloin said “Thank you very much” and hung up the phone. “One o’clock in the Regency Room of the Parliament Hotel,” she told Frank and Professor Woocheck.
Frank glanced at his watch. “About an hour from now,” he said. “But the question is how to keep Mrs. Slocum away from that meeting until I get a chance to talk.” Frank thought about it a moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread over his face. He had a plan. It involved the Professor, and so Frank explained it to him.
About fifteen minutes later the Professor alit from a cab about a block away from the Slocum home. He approached the house cautiously until he had a clear view of the car parked in the driveway. He jotted down the license plate number on a piece of paper. Then he walked back to the corner. There was a phone booth there and the Professor settled himself in it to wait.
Another ten minutes passed and his waiting was over. From the phone booth he saw Mrs. Slocum come out of her house, get into her car and pull out of the driveway. As she started down the street, the Professor put a dime in the coinbox and dialed.
“Hello, police?” The Professor made his voice very agitated. “Somebody just stole my car. They just turned the corner from Spruce Street and are heading south on Main. The license number is . . .”
At one o’clock Frank Pollener mounted the podium and faced the meeting of the Mothers for Morality. “Mrs. Slocum has been unavoidably detained,” he told the assembled ladies. “And she has asked me to address you until she gets here. This may surprise some of you, for I am here representing the viewpoint of the Venus Observa-tory.” He took a deep breath. “If you ladies would consider the genuine benefits to all humanity,” he began. Then, looking around, the hostile eyes which looked back at him gave him a sudden inspiration. The direct approach was the best way to reach these women. “Every lady here will profit directly from the Venus study,” he told them. “Every lady who has ever suffered the frustration of sex without satisfaction,” he said pointedly, “will be helped by it.” Now their faces told him he’d hit pay-dirt. “How? you ask. I’ll tell you how. The results of this study will help doctors everywhere to advise women how to attain sexual satisfaction each and every time that they are made love to by their husbands. Well, What about that? Isn’t orgasm every woman’s inalienable right? Even mothers’? Even Mothers for Morality? Mothers in the prime of life? At the height of their sexual potential?” The faces were beaming approval at Frank now. Heads were nodding like testing time at a yo-yo factory.