Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

surrounded by a dreary forest of reference books and somewhat-organized papers. The

high point of his day is the breathless excitement of waiting for the postman. (The

low point is usually immediately thereafter.)

How can one write entertaining memoirs about such an occupation? Answer: By

writing about what this scrivener did when not writing, or by resorting to fiction,

or both. Usually both.

I could write entertaining memoirs about things I did when not writing. I

shan’t do so because a) I hope those incidents have been forgotten, or b) I hope

that any not forgotten are covered by the statute of limitations.

Meanwhile I hope you enjoy this. The fiction is plainly marked fiction; the

nonfiction is as truthful as I can make it-and here and there, tucked into space

that would otherwise be blank are anecdotes and trivia ranging from edifying to

outrageous.

Each copy is guaranteed-or double your money back-to be printed on genuine

paper of enough pages to hold the covers apart.

-R.A.H.

FOREWORD

The beginning of 1939 found me flat broke following a disastrous political

Campaign (I ran a strong second best, but in politics there are no prizes for place

or show). I was highly skilled in ordnance, gunnery, and fire control for Naval

vessels, a skill for which there was no demand ashore-and I had a piece of paper

from the Secretary of the Navy telling me that I was a waste of space-“totally and

permanently disabled” was the phraseology. I “owned” a heavily-mortgaged house.

About then THRILLING WONDER STORIES ran a house ad reading (more or less):

GIANT PRIZE CONTEST-Amateur Writers!!!!!!

First Prize $50 Fifty Dollars $50

In 1939 one could fill three station wagons with fifty dollars worth of

groceries. Today I can pick up fifty dollars in groceries unassisted-perhaps I’ve

grown stronger. So I wrote the story LIFE-LINE. It took me four days-I am a slow

typist. But I did not send it to THRILLING WONDER; I sent it to ASTOUNDING, figuring

they would not be so swamped with amateur short stories.

ASTOUNDING bought it. . . for S70, or .S20 more than that “Grand Prize”-and

there was never a chance that I would ever again look for honest work.

Life-Line

THE chairman rapped loudly for order. Gradually the catcalls and boos died away as

several self-appointed sergeants-at-arms persuaded a few hot-headed individuals to

sit down. The speaker on the rostrum by the chairman seemed unaware of the

disturbance. His bland, faintly insolent face was impassive. The chairman turned to

the speaker, and addressed him, in a voice in which anger and annoyance were barely

restrained.

“Doctor Pinero,” – the “Doctor” was faintly stressed – “I must apologize to

you for the unseemly outburst during your remarks. I am surprised that my colleagues

should so far forget the dignity proper to men of science as to interrupt a speaker,

no matter,” he paused and set his mouth, “no matter how great the provocation.”

Pinero smiled in his face, a smile that was in some way an open insult. The chairman

visibly controlled his temper and continued, “I am anxious that the program be

concluded decently and in order. I want you to finish your remarks. Nevertheless, I

must ask you to refrain from affronting our intelligence with ideas that any

educated man knows to be fallacious. Please confine yourself to your discovery – if

you have made one.”

Pinero spread his fat white hands, palms down. “How can I possibly put a new

idea into your heads, if I do not first remove your delusions?”

Page 3

The audience stirred and muttered. Someone shouted from the rear of the

hail, “Throw the charlatan out! We’ve had enough.” The chairman pounded his gavel.

“Gentlemen! Please!” Then to Pinero, “Must I remind you that you are not a

member of this body, and that we did not invite you?”

Pinero’s eyebrows lifted. “So? I seem to remember an invitation on the

letterhead of the Academy?”

The chairman chewed his lower lip before replying. “True. I wrote that

invitation myself. But it was at the request of one of the trustees – a fine

public-spirited gentleman, but not a scientist, not a member of the Academy.”