“Is there something wrong?” Reverend Goodson asked, noticing that Mercy’s expression was agitated and that she was turning red.
“My dear. What is it?” Dr. Peerloin was concerned.
“That’s him!” Mercy’s voice quavered and she sank to a chair. “That’s the--the brute I told you about!”
“Oh?” Dr. Peerloin peered at the screen over the tops of her glasses. “Oh!” She continued staring. “I see what you’ve been talking about,” she said. “I can’t really blame you for falling in love. That is a real man.”
“I am not in love!” Mercy protested. “I hate him! I hate him! Just look what he’s doing! I could never love a man like that!”
“I see that the basic lusts are not confined to the Peruvian jungle.” The Reverend Goodson shook his head sadly.
“And look at that—-that woman with him!” Mercy said through clenched teeth.
“The natives would call her a ‘bombarosa,’ ” Reverend Goodson mused. “That means a woman who inspires a young warrior to break the tribal taboos. Or, in your society, a female who drives a man to sin. I can’t approve, of course, but I can understand how the young man could be tempted by such a woman.”
“His whole life has been one long giving in to temptations like this!” Mercy muttered bitterly.
“Well, he certainly knows how to give in expertly,” Dr. Peerloin observed.
“Oh! I can’t watch!” Mercy turned her back on the tele-viewer. The others were silent for what seemed a long time to her. “What’s happening?” Finally, she couldn’t keep herself from asking.
“They’re just about to—” Dr. Peerloin started to answer and stopped suddenly in mid-sentence. “Oh dear!”
“What is it?” When Dr. Peerloin didn’t answer, she swiveled around to look at the screen for herself. Her whole attitude changed at what she saw.
The Reverend Goodson was the first to speak again. “The wages of sin . . .” he intoned.
“Are fatigue.” Dr. Peerloin finished for him.
“Oh! I can’t stand it!” Mercy’s voice was filled with sincere sympathy. “He looks so crushed! It’s not his fault! That woman was just too brazen for him, that’s all!”
“His performance certainly didn’t live up to his potential,” Dr. Peerloin noted. “His potential was about as great as any I’ve recorded in all my years as a social anthropologist.”
“Well, he lived up to it with me!” Mercy said as fiercely as a tigress defending her mate.
“It is true that responses may vary according to one’s partner,” Dr. Peerloin told her reassuringly. “Look, the female has left him alone,” she added.
“The poor sinner is really suffering,” Reverend Goodson said with compassion.
“He’s not a sinner! Not now, anyway! Only a would-be sinner!” Mercy found herself still defending him. “Oh, he looks so miserable! I have to go to him,” she decided.
“I’ll go with you,” Dr. Peerloin said.
“You will?” Mercy was surprised, but she didn’t stop to argue.
“And so will I,” the Reverend Goodson said. “Perhaps some spiritual comfort . . .”
Frank Pollener looked up dully as the three of them entered the “experiment” room. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed in the same position of abject defeat.
“Oh, my poor darling!” Mercy rushed over to him.
“Go away, Mercy.” Frank’s voice was choked. “I’m no good to you. I’m no good to myself. I'm no good to anybody anymore.”
“Nonsense!” Dr. Peerloin tried to reassure him. “Temporary potency failure . . .”
“It’s not temporary,” Frank confessed in a small voice. “This has been going on for weeks now. Ever since the time with Mercy I haven’t been able to— I thought maybe this environment, the machines and all, would fix things up. But—”
“Mercy thought it was the enviromnent too,” Dr. Peerloin interrupted. “But I’m not so sure. Environment isn’t as important as selection. Believe me, with the right partner—“
“I thought of that. But Mercy won’t-—”
“I Wanted to, but I couldn’t. Somehow it just didn’t seem right.”
“Excuse me,” the Reverend Goodson interrupted. “I’m an outsider of course, but it occurs to me that by concentrating on this matter of surroundings you both may have made a mistake. Perhaps what is really bothering you is that none of us can truly escape our taboos. But we can function within their bounds.”
“What do you mean?” Frank asked suspiciously.
“If you were to marry--” The Reverend confirmed Frank’s suspicions.
“Marry!” Reacting, Frank’s despondency dissolved. “But I don’t want-—-!”
“Many a sinner has found salvation in marriage, my boy!” Reverend Goodson pointed out.
“But—!”
“Do you want to go through the rest of your life without sex?” Dr. Peerloin backed up the Reverend. “Do you want Mercy to go through the rest of her life frustrated?”
“Don’t beg him,” Mercy protested. “If he doesn’t love me —”
“But I do love you,” Frank said, a note of wonder in his voice.
“You do?”
“Yes. Do you--? Do you love me?”
“Yes.” Mercy’s eyes shone.
“Then if you two will join hands-—” Reverend Goodson seized the advantage and produced a Bible. Looking into each other’s eyes as if hypnotized, Frank and Mercy did as he suggested. “Dearly beloved,” the Reverend began, “We are gathered here in the presence . . .”
As soon as the ceremony was over, Dr. Peerloin dashed to Professor Woocheck’s office to tell him the news. “And,” she concluded breathlessly, “if we hurry, we can get back to the “observation” room just in time to see the Observatory’s first case history of a wedding night. You see, the happy couple have agreed to let the Observatory record their first marital experience for the benefit of our researches. So please hurry.”
The Professor hurried. A moment later he and Dr. Peerloin joined Reverend Goodson and the technician in the “observation” room. All four watched in silence. It was an awed silence. After a very long time, Dr. Peerloin’s hand crept into that of Professor Woocheck. On the tele-screen matters had been concluded and the wedding couple were getting dressed. Yet the Doctor and the Professor continued to look. Noticing their preoccupation, the Reverend Goodson followed the technician out of the room quietly, tactfully refraining from bidding them goodbye.
The elderly couple holding hands didn’t even notice them leaving. They continued standing there, maintaining the contact, even after the tele-screen showed the “experiment” room to be empty. Finally, Professor Woocheck spoke.
“You know, Doctor,” he said, “there is one aspect of our work we have been neglecting. We have done virtually no testing with geriatric subjects. I think it’s time that Phase Four was initiated.”
“You mean -?”
“And why not? It might be a very pertinent phase of our research.” Professor Woocheck slipped his arm around her.
“Oh, Professor!” Dr. Peerloin giggled.
“The “experiment” room is available,” Professor Woocheck murmured into her ear.
“Oh, Professor!”
“Purely for science,” he said a little later as he led her through the door of the “experiment” room.
“Purely for science,” Dr. Peerloin agreed. There was quiet, and then-— “Oh, Professor!”
“It has been illustrated that much significant data covering all phases of bio-erotic human behavior was revealed in the course of the research study and has been condensed for compilation in these pages. One most significant point the authors feel should be touched upon before closing has to do with Phase Four of the program, which was devoted to the study of eroto-geriatrics. Contrary to popular belief, our researches proved conclusively that age is not of itself a deterrent factor in satisfactory copulatory relationships. On the contrary, the experience brought to cohabitation by geriatric partners would seem to provide even greater satisfactions than those enjoyed by younger subject volunteers. There is strong evidence to support the contention that enjoyment of human sexuality can increase with the years . . .”