He slid into the pilot seat and pressed the starter button. "I'll be in Mexico City at dawn," he thought, "just in time to catch the Sidney-Clipper."
On the first of December, 1960, Dr. Howard K. Scriven, Braintrust Czar, held a historic press conference in which he revealed the inside story behind the "Paranoia of The Brain".
Following the pattern set by the Bikini tests, only a select score of press and radio representatives were admitted. Having been duly sworn not to reveal any matter of military secrecy, the participants could even be received at the grand assembly hall of the murals, the vast antechamber of The Brain.
As they descended from their blacked-out busses they were led to the center of the dome where the Thinker's giant head looked down upon them with Olympic calm. At eleven-fifteen, exactly as scheduled, the great Scriven dramatically mounted the steps of the monument's pedestal. Pens hastily scribbled notes for future reference:
"S. tall and erect" "Unbroken by the blow" "Deep lines of strain and suffering add dignity to magnificent figure of a man" "Very solemn; leonine head slightly bowed under the burden of responsibility."
With meticulous exactitude of speech, with rolling echoes accentuating every syllable Scriven began:
"In this solemn and tragic hour as a great storm has passed over our land and many of our cities are slowly digging out from the ruin which has been wreaked, it is my duty to give you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And in order that you might completely understand the underlying cause of the catastrophe, I have to begin at the beginning...."
For about thirty minutes Scriven lectured with lucidity upon the basic idea, the history, the functions of The Brain. He underlined the close relationship between its engineering features and the physiology of the human brain. He stressed the elaborate precautions which the government had taken for The Brain's protection. He did not conceal The Brain's role as a strategic weapon; but, pointing to the future, he painted an inspiring picture of peace on earth and human problems solved with the aid of this tool supreme of science and technology.
Then, lowering his voice, he went into the explanation of the tragedy:
"Six months ago, on my personal initiative and responsibility, I invited a noted scientist from a foreign land to collaborate with the Braintrust on a great humanitarian experiment. The exigencies of military secrecy do not permit me to give you his name nor that of the country from whence he came. Needless to say, that man was carefully investigated--submitted to the same character and aptitude tests as all our employees were. He was admitted to work in one of The Brain's apperception centers where he installed the objects of his studies: certain species of ants and termites of the most destructive kind...."
Now that he had come down to the brass tacks, the journalists' pens went galloping over the pads:
"Criminal negligence," they scribbled. "Millions permitted to escape."
"Probably over period of months." "Wormed their way into the nerve paths of The Brain." "Large scale destruction of nerve substance." "Effects tantamount to that of a large brain tumor." "Spearhead severs vital association-paths." "No immediate effects of undermining work because of ingenious engineering features of The Brain." "Just as in human brain, functions of impaired cell group automatically transferred to other groups of healthy cells." "No means to detect devastation; termites invisible, embedded in nerve paths' insulation." "Comparison with termite-eaten structures which suddenly collapse." "First outward signs of tumors in human brains: lack of coordination in movement, loss of mastery over muscular action." "This phenomenon first manifested Nov.
25th in certain motoric organs of The Brain." "Scriven explains traffic catastrophies and malfunctionings of utilities." "Examination immediately undertaken; scientists puzzled because cerebration processes continue to function perfectly." "Accidents ascribed to sabotage by foreign agents." "This to remain official explanation." "Loss of public confidence and unrest feared by government." "Then, Nov. 30th late in the afternoon: first signs of aphasia in cerebrations." "Glaring errors in chemical and mathematical formulas." "Symptoms similar to dementia praecox." "Fifteen minutes later fire alarm." "Short circuits simultaneous on scores of points over wide area." "Severe handicaps in fire fighting inside nerve paths." "Damage estimated at half-billion dollars."
They snapped their notebooks closed. They had the facts, though many of them would have to remain a secret. Scriven obviously was coming to the end:
"Now I won't say," his voice rolled on, "that this man, this scientist, has committed a deliberate act of sabotage. I won't say that he was in the pay of some power hostile to the United States. Whether he was or not is beyond my competence to decide. But this much I can say: the catastrophic results of that man's actions could not have been worse if he had been a saboteur. Human failure, not mechanical failure lies at the bottom of all this disaster. With the penetrating intelligence which so distinguished our modern press you cannot fail to see that reconstruction of The Brain with greatly increased safeguards against _human_ failure is a paramount necessity...."
A beautiful girl with a helmet of golden hair quickly mounted the steps of the Thinker's pedestal. She handed Scriven a telegram. Frowning at the interruption he opened it, but suddenly his face began to beam. He raised his hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have a momentous announcement to make. The President of the United States, Cornelius Vandersloot, has been found.
He is alive and well. His plane was emergency-landed somewhere in Alaska. Army planes have gone to the rescue and at this moment our President is already en route to Washington."
As the uproarious applause broke loose echoing in thunders from the dome, Scriven quickly bent his head to the girl.
"Well done, Oona," he whispered, "you chose the exact psychological moment I wanted you to hand me this."
There was a rush for the busses. Only a few shrewd reporters lingered on.
"That was swell, Dr. Scriven. A grand story. But haven't you anything to add; some personal angle something with a human interest in it? You know what we mean; something for our women readers...."
The great surgeon took the arm of the lady with the golden hair: "You may announce," he said; "that Miss Oona Dahlborg here has done me the great honor of becoming my bride."
[Footnote A: Transcriber Note: printer error. Text missing from original.]