-except in charity. A half-witted dog could cheat them at cards.)
But the most startling and satisfying vindication of Arrhenius lay in the fact that spores had been trapped out in space itself, in the supposedly-sterile raw vacuum of space!
Hamilton admitted that he did not expect the search for other living intelligences to bear fruit during his tenure on Terra, unless they got a hump on themselves in dreaming up that starship and then hit the jackpot on the first or second try. And again it was not his forte-he might cook up a few gadgets for them as auxiliary mechanicals in making the ship more livable, but for the key problem, motive power, he was about twenty years too late in specializing. No, keep in touch, kibitz a little, and report to Carruthers-that was all he could do.
But there were still several other research possibilities already underway, things that had to do with human beings, with men, in their more esoteric and little-studied aspects. Things that nobody knew anything about anyhow and which he could, therefore, tackle on an equal footing with others, catch-as-catch-can, and no holds barred. Where does a man go after he’s dead? And, conversely, where does he come from? He made a mental note of that latter-it suddenly occurred to him that most of the attention had been given to the first half of the paired question. What is telepathy and how do you make it tick? How is it that a man can live another life in his dreams? There were dozens more, all questions science had refused to tackle because they were too slippery-had in fact walked away from like a disgruntled cat. All of them related to some troublesome characteristic of the human personality-whatever that was-and any of them might lead to an answer as to purpose-meaning.
He felt toward these questions the free and easy attitude of the man who was asked if he could pilot a rocket: “I don’t know-I’ve never tried.” Well, he would try. And he would help Carruthers see to it that many others tried, strongly, consistently, following out every approach that could be thought of, and keeping meticulous, full, scientific records. They would track down the Ego, trap it, and put a band on its leg.
What was an ego? He didn’t know, but he knew he was one. By which he did not mean his body, nor, by damn, his genes. He could localize it-on the centerline, forward of his ears, back of his eyes, and about four centimetres down from the top of the skull-no, more like six. That was where he himself lived-when he was home-he would bet on it, to the nearest centimetre. He knew closer than that, but he couldn’t get in and measure it. Of course, he wasn’t home all the time.
Hamilton could not figure out just why Carruthers wanted him, but then, he had not been present at an exchange between Mordan and Carruthers. “How is my Problem Child getting along?” Mordan had inquired.
“Quite well, Claude. Quite well indeed.”
“What are you using him for?”
“Well…” Carruthers pursed his lips. “I’m using him as a philosopher, only he does not know it.”
Mordan chuckled. “Better not let him know. I. think he might be offended to be called a philosopher.”
“I shan’t. Really, he’s quite useful to me. You know how impossible most specialists are, and how pedantic most of our brother synthesists.”
“Tut, tut. Such heresy.”
“Isn’t it, though? But Felix is useful to me. He has an active, uninhibited mind. His mind prowls.”
“I told you he was a star line.”
“Yes, you did. Every now and then you genetics laddies come out with the right answer.”
“May your bed spring a leak,” Mordan answered. “We can’t always be wrong. The Great Egg must love human beings, he made a lot of them.”
“Same argument applies to oysters, only more so.”
“That’s different,” said Mordan. “I’m the one who loves oysters. Have you had dinner?” Felix sat up with a start. The house phone at his elbow was chiming. He flipped the come-along tab and heard Phyllis’s voice. “Felix, my dear, will you come in and say goodbye to Madame Espartero?” “Coming, dear.”