nothing wrong with it, except that if you hit it with a hammer it would blow out ten city blocks . . . well, no one might be able to foresee the details , but they could tell something would happen when it went on the market."
"Yes, but this was friendliness ."
"Are you saying, Mort, that friendship isn't a power in the world?"
"No. But—"
"Then, you see, these pills exert power . Just as surely as if they were TNT."
Hommel sat back in bafflement. "I see it. But it doesn't seem right."
Banner nodded. " If these pills were used right, there'd be no great problem. Some people will use them just as they should. But I would bet you, Mort, that right this minute there are others mashing these pills into a fine powder, touching a match to the powder, and then sniffing the smoke to see what happens. If one of these people dives out a tenth-story window because he has turned into a bird, and another starts eating ground glass because he can't be hurt, who do you suppose will get blamed?"
Hommel only nodded his head.
"Right. Keep working on that antidote."
Hommel did as he was told. Fueled by a large proportion of Banner's profits, the "antidote" project forged ahead at a strenuous pace. But Nullergin-200 went faster.
As the hay-fever season ended, the common-cold season took over. It developed that Nullergin-200 eliminated most of the symptoms of an ordinary cold. Sales increased.
Hommel, more and more immersed in his work, paid little attention to the outside world. But it was impossible to ignore it completely.
On his way to work one morning, he nearly smashed into the car in front, which had stopped considerately in a long line of traffic to let a second car back out of an alley. The driver of the second car, in his friendly appreciation, walked back to thank his benefactor. As Hommel stared in disbelief, this first driver got out to shake hands, and the two beamed upon one another until some unregenerate ten cars back let go a long blast on his horn.
Farther on, two small children were playing in the middle of the street, and all the traffic laboriously detoured around their cardboard tent. A large oil truck, in front of Hommel, had to back and fill to get around, and finally came to a stop. The driver, a large, tough-looking man in a worn leather jacket, walked over to the two children, bent down, and rumpled their hair. He smiled at Hommel in pure friendship.
"You live for your kids. Right, Jack?"
Hommel stared at the truck driver's massive shoulders, and snarled, " Right ."
When Hommel got to the plant, he was an hour late. He wasn't in a very friendly mood himself.
Banner at once called him to his office.
"How's that antidote coming?"
"Our program would go a good deal faster if we had less socializing and more work."
"Our own people are taking the drug, eh?"
Hommel nodded. "They say it cuts down the symptoms of the common cold. That may be true, but—"
There was a brief tap at the door, and Hommel glanced around. The door opened, and Banner's secretary looked in, to gush, "Oh, Mr. Banner, I just had to come in for a minute, to say how much I do enjoy working for you."
Banner looked at her coolly. "I appreciate that, Miss Hemple, but—"
"I just love every minute here. And I think you're just the kindest employer. There, I had to say it. Thank you so much, Mr. Banner, for everything."
The door shut, and Banner stared at it.
"Is that what you mean, Mort?"
"That's how it starts. It gets worse when everyone tells everyone else how he enjoys having him for a co-worker. You take half-a-dozen people, and the permuta—"
"The what ?"
Hommel paused. "There are thirty different ways they can congratulate one another on being good co-workers. At least thirty different ways."
Banner said soberly, "I've heard of the world ending by disasters. It never occurred to me it might end in a handshake."
Hommel started to reply, but was interrupted again, this time by a woman's scream echoing down the hall
"Yes, but this was friendliness ."
"Are you saying, Mort, that friendship isn't a power in the world?"
"No. But—"
"Then, you see, these pills exert power . Just as surely as if they were TNT."
Hommel sat back in bafflement. "I see it. But it doesn't seem right."
Banner nodded. " If these pills were used right, there'd be no great problem. Some people will use them just as they should. But I would bet you, Mort, that right this minute there are others mashing these pills into a fine powder, touching a match to the powder, and then sniffing the smoke to see what happens. If one of these people dives out a tenth-story window because he has turned into a bird, and another starts eating ground glass because he can't be hurt, who do you suppose will get blamed?"
Hommel only nodded his head.
"Right. Keep working on that antidote."
Hommel did as he was told. Fueled by a large proportion of Banner's profits, the "antidote" project forged ahead at a strenuous pace. But Nullergin-200 went faster.
As the hay-fever season ended, the common-cold season took over. It developed that Nullergin-200 eliminated most of the symptoms of an ordinary cold. Sales increased.
Hommel, more and more immersed in his work, paid little attention to the outside world. But it was impossible to ignore it completely.
On his way to work one morning, he nearly smashed into the car in front, which had stopped considerately in a long line of traffic to let a second car back out of an alley. The driver of the second car, in his friendly appreciation, walked back to thank his benefactor. As Hommel stared in disbelief, this first driver got out to shake hands, and the two beamed upon one another until some unregenerate ten cars back let go a long blast on his horn.
Farther on, two small children were playing in the middle of the street, and all the traffic laboriously detoured around their cardboard tent. A large oil truck, in front of Hommel, had to back and fill to get around, and finally came to a stop. The driver, a large, tough-looking man in a worn leather jacket, walked over to the two children, bent down, and rumpled their hair. He smiled at Hommel in pure friendship.
"You live for your kids. Right, Jack?"
Hommel stared at the truck driver's massive shoulders, and snarled, " Right ."
When Hommel got to the plant, he was an hour late. He wasn't in a very friendly mood himself.
Banner at once called him to his office.
"How's that antidote coming?"
"Our program would go a good deal faster if we had less socializing and more work."
"Our own people are taking the drug, eh?"
Hommel nodded. "They say it cuts down the symptoms of the common cold. That may be true, but—"
There was a brief tap at the door, and Hommel glanced around. The door opened, and Banner's secretary looked in, to gush, "Oh, Mr. Banner, I just had to come in for a minute, to say how much I do enjoy working for you."
Banner looked at her coolly. "I appreciate that, Miss Hemple, but—"
"I just love every minute here. And I think you're just the kindest employer. There, I had to say it. Thank you so much, Mr. Banner, for everything."
The door shut, and Banner stared at it.
"Is that what you mean, Mort?"
"That's how it starts. It gets worse when everyone tells everyone else how he enjoys having him for a co-worker. You take half-a-dozen people, and the permuta—"
"The what ?"
Hommel paused. "There are thirty different ways they can congratulate one another on being good co-workers. At least thirty different ways."
Banner said soberly, "I've heard of the world ending by disasters. It never occurred to me it might end in a handshake."
Hommel started to reply, but was interrupted again, this time by a woman's scream echoing down the hall
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