Part 27 (1/2)
When I went in, Bish rose from his desk and came to meet me, shaking my hand. He looked and was dressed like the old Bish Ware I'd always known.
”Glad you dropped in, Walt. Find a seat. How are things on the _Times_?”
”You ought to know. You're making things busy for us.”
”Yes. There's so much to do, and so little time to do it. Seems as though I've heard somebody say that before.”
”Are you going back to Terra on the _Simon Bolivar_?”
”Oh, Allah forbid! I made a trip on a destroyer, once, and once is enough for a lifetime. I won't even be able to go on the _Cape Canaveral_; I'll take the _Peenemunde_ when she gets in. I'm glad MacBride--Dr. Watson--is going to stop off. He'll be a big help. Don't know what I'd have done without Ranjit Singh.”
”That won't be till after the _Cape Canaveral_ gets back from Terra.”
”No. That's why I'm waiting. Don't publish this, Walt, I don't want to start any premature rumors that might end in disappointments, but I've recommended immediate recla.s.sification to Cla.s.s III, and there may be a Colonial Office man on the _Cape Canaveral_ when she gets in.
Resident-Agent, permanent. I hope so; he'll need a little breaking in.”
”I saw Tom Kivelson this morning,” I said. ”He seems to be getting along pretty well.”
”Didn't anybody at the hospital tell you about him?” Bish asked.
I shook my head. He cursed all hospital staffs.
”I wish military security was half as good. Why, Tom's permanently injured. He won't be crippled, or anything like that, but there was considerable unrepairable damage to his back muscles. He'll be able to get around, but I doubt it he'll ever be able to work on a hunter-s.h.i.+p again.”
I was really horrified. Monster-hunting was Tom's whole life. I said something like that.
”He'll just have to make a new life for himself. Joe says he's going to send him to school on Terra. He thinks that was his own idea, but I suggested it to him.”
”Dad wants me to go to school on Terra.”
”Well, that's a fine idea. Tom's going on the _Peenemunde_, along with me. Why don't you come with us?”
”That would be great, Bish. I'd like it. But I just can't.”
”Why not?”
”Well, they want Dad to be mayor, and if he runs, they'll all vote for him. He can't handle this and the paper both alone.”
”He can get help on both jobs.”
”Yes, but ... Why, it would be years till I got back. I can't sacrifice the time. Not now.”
”I'd say six years. You can spend your voyage time from here cramming for entrance qualifications. Schools don't bother about academic credits any more; they're only interested in how much you know. You take four years' regular college, and a year postgrading, and you'll have all the formal education you'll need.”
”But, Bish, I can get that here, at the Library,” I said. ”We have every book on film that's been published since the Year Zero.”
”Yes. And you'd die of old age before you got a quarter through the first film bank, and you still wouldn't have an education. Do you know which books to study, and which ones not to bother with? Or which ones to read first, so that what you read in the others will be comprehensible to you? That's what they'll give you on Terra. The tools, which you don't have now, for educating yourself.”