Part 5 (1/2)
The Psionics and Parapsychology people weren't the only delegation to reach Blanley that day. Enough of the trustees of the college lived in the San Francisco area to muster a quorum for a meeting the evening before; a committee, including James Dacre, the father of the boy in Modern History IV, was appointed to get the facts at first hand; they arrived about noon. They talked to some of the students, spent some time closeted with Whitburn, and were seen crossing the campus with the Parapsychology people. They didn't talk to Chalmers or Fitch. In the afternoon, Marjorie Fenner told Chalmers that his presence at a meeting, to be held that evening in Whitburn's office, was requested.
The request, she said, had come from the trustees' committee, not from Whitburn; she also told him that Fitch would be there. Chalmers promptly phoned Stanly Weill.
”I'll be there along with you,” the lawyer said. ”If this trustees'
committee is running it, they'll realize that this is a matter in which you're ent.i.tled to legal advice. I'll stop by your place and pick you up.... You haven't been doing any talking, have you?”
He described the interview with the Psionics and Parapsychology people.
”That was all right.... Was there a man with a mustache, in a brown tweed suit, with them?”
”Yes. I didn't catch his name....”
”It's Cutler. He's an Army major; Central Intelligence. His crowd's interested in whether you had any real advance information on this. He was in to see me, just a while ago. I have the impression he'd like to see this whole thing played down, so he'll be on our side, more or less and for the time being. I'll be around to your place about eight; in the meantime, don't do any more talking than you have to. I hope we can get this straightened out, this evening. I'll have to go to Reno in a day or so to see a client there....”
The meeting in Whitburn's office had been set for eight-thirty; Weill saw to it that they arrived exactly on time. As they got out of his car at Administration Center and crossed to the steps, Chalmers had the feeling of going to a duel, accompanied by his second. The briefcase Weill was carrying may have given him the idea; it was flat and square-cornered, the size and shape of an old case of dueling pistols. He commented on it.
”Sound recorder,” Weill said. ”Loaded with a four-hour spool. No matter how long this thing lasts, I'll have a record of it, if I want to produce one in court.”
Another party was arriving at the same time--the two Psionics and Parapsychology people and the Intelligence major, who seemed to have formed a working partners.h.i.+p. They all entered together, after a brief and guardedly polite exchange of greetings. There were voices raised in argument inside when they came to Whitburn's office. The college president was trying to keep Handley, Tom Smith, and Max Pottgeiter from entering his private room in the rear.
”It certainly is!” Handley was saying. ”As faculty members, any controversy involving establishment of standards of fitness to teach under a tenure-contract concerns all of us, because any action taken in this case may establish a precedent which could affect the validity of our own contracts.”
A big man with iron-gray hair appeared in the doorway of the private office behind Whitburn; James Dacre.
”These gentlemen have a substantial interest in this, Doctor Whitburn,” he said. ”If they're here as representatives of the college faculty, they have every right to be present.”
Whitburn stood aside. Handley, Smith and Pottgeiter went through the door; the others followed. The other three members of the trustees'
committee were already in the room. A few minutes later, Leonard Fitch arrived, also carrying a briefcase.
”Well, everybody seems to be here,” Whitburn said, starting toward his chair behind the desk. ”We might as well get this started.”
”Yes. If you'll excuse me, Doctor.” Dacre stepped in front of him and sat down at the desk. ”I've been selected as chairman of this committee; I believe I'm presiding here. Start the recorder, somebody.”
One of the other trustees went to the sound recorder beside the desk--a larger but probably not more efficient instrument than the one Weill had concealed in his briefcase--and flipped a switch. Then he and his companions dragged up chairs to flank Dacre's, and the rest seated themselves around the room. Old Pottgeiter took a seat next to Chalmers. Weill opened the case on his lap, reached inside, and closed it again.
”What are they trying to do, Ed?” Pottgeiter asked, in a loud whisper.
”Throw you off the faculty? They can't do that, can they?”
”I don't know, Max. We'll see....”
”This isn't any formal hearing, and n.o.body's on trial here,” Dacre was saying. ”Any action will have to be taken by the board of trustees as a whole, at a regularly scheduled meeting. All we're trying to do is find out just what's happened here, and who, if anybody, is responsible....”
”Well, there's the man who's responsible!” Whitburn cried, pointing at Chalmers. ”This whole thing grew out of his behavior in cla.s.s a month ago, and I'll remind you that at the time I demanded his resignation!”
”I thought it was Doctor Fitch, here, who gave the story to the newspapers,” one of the trustees, a man with red hair and a thin, eyegla.s.sed face, objected.
”Doctor Fitch acted as any scientist should, in making public what he believed to be an important scientific discovery,” the elder of the two Parapsychology men said. ”He believed, and so do we, that he had discovered a significant instance of precognition--a case of real prior knowledge of a future event. He made a careful and systematic record of Professor Chalmers' statements, at least two weeks before the occurrence of the event to which they referred. It is entirely due to him that we know exactly what Professor Chalmers said and when he said it.”
”Yes,” his younger colleague added, ”and in all my experience I've never heard anything more preposterous than this man Whitburn's attempt, yesterday, to deny the fact.”