"That's the sixth straight you've missed, and the acid comes out of the burette, not the tube; and you don't call the graduations c.c., you call them milliliters."
"Yeah? Well, here we call it a tube!"
"And why don't you go down to the end-point drop by drop?"
"Because the book don't say so! That's why! You technos make me sick. Here we do all the blasted work, and you try to tell us how to do what we've been doing for ten years!"
Rocco was beginning to work himself into one of his famous rages. His bull neck was beginning to redden; his eyes started to flash. His entire squat2 body started to quiver.
Whitemarsh wasn't impressed. Over at the atomic plant, Phobus's Quercus Mountain, he had bossed a pretty quarrelsome crew of isotope3 wranglers4. He had never dodged5 a fight in his life. But this was in a chemical laboratory and it surprised him to hear the assistants talk back.
The only assistants he had ever known were clear-eyed youths taking a year away from their studies to recoup their tuition money and who tried to copy everything the chemists did. But Whitemarsh was new to the Interspatial Research Center on the Moon, and he still could not figure why the assistants acted as they did. So he waited.
Rocco banged the flask down on the stone bench, glared at Whitemarsh for an instant, and then rushed out of the Laboratory, muttering a few obscenities.
"Queer place this," mused7 Whitemarsh, filling up another flask and finishing the titration himself. "Here the helpers tell the chemists what to do and get mad if we ask them what they're doing."
He started to look over Rocco's notes and ruefully decided8 all the work would have to be done over again. He was interrupted when a girl opened the door. In the week he had been stationed at IRC, he had been introduced to so many scientists that he had forgotten most of the names, but he remembered all the girls. His former Atomic Plant at Quercus Mountain had had all too few for him not to appreciate them now. Miss Sally Chester was a statuesque chemist with long blonde hair and a luscious9 figure which she hid under a white lab robe. He managed to stammer10 some sort of greeting.
"Why Dr. Whitemarsh!" She seemed somewhat puzzled. "You're not actually working with your hands?"
"I sure am, unless we're both space struck. Why not?"
"Well, I suppose it's all right other places, here we let the Laboratorians do all the manual work. It's sort of their privilege."
"Yes, but their technique's lousy. I sat here this afternoon and watched that blow-hard Rocco muff six straight end-points in a row and when I asked him how come, he blew his top!"
She laughed at that. She sat down on the lab desk and said, "You're absolutely right. Antonio Rocco's color blind and always misses his Methyl Orange end-points. And he's been doing them for ten years. But it hurts his feelings to be criticized, you should have been more diplomatic. He's probably gone to complain to his boss!"
"His boss? Aren't we his bosses? On this sheet he's listed as my assistant."
"Actually yes. But traditionally the shop foreman is the leader of the Laboratorians. He certifies11 them to see that they know their work, signs their time cards and tells them when to take time off. Of course we outline the work they do, check their results and write reports from their data. Normally we come into the lab as little as possible."
"But Sally, how the hell do we know that their results are right? This mixed-up outfit12 is in the hands of a bunch of left-handed prima donnas who don't know Beilstein from Budweiser!"
She smiled again (and he thought of the ads for Stargleam toothpaste). "Let's go over to the Scientists' Snack Bar and get a cup of coffee, and I'll tell you a little about the history of this laboratory."
So he let her lead him out of the individual laboratory into the pastel blue corridor where they followed the spiral runways to the glass enclosed Snack Bar.
Here they sat on pale leather chairs and looked out over the expanse of the Central Laboratory. From where he sat, he could see a square mile of magnificent equipment: Serpentine13 condensers14, enormous distillation15 columns, molecular16 stills, ultra-centrifuges, electron microscopes, all were spread out before him. Surrounding the central laboratory were the innumerable railings of the corridors leading to the individual offices. Upstairs and downstairs strolled scientists and Laboratorians respectively, all obviously contented17. He turned to face Miss Chester who was lolling in the chair beside him. She had poured him a cup of coffee, given him a plate of rolls and was ready to talk.
She reminded him that in 2005 it was found necessary to build research laboratories on the Moon to avoid the guided meteorites18 which the Aliens had been hurling19 toward the Earth. Since there had also been a shortage of trained scientists, it was necessary to train apprentices20 to operate the complicated laboratory equipment ... to perform the operations without bothering themselves with the theory. The Laboratorians were needed and they did a good job running specification21 tests on all the equipment necessary for the interplanetary war. After the war, the Interspatial Corporation had made it the Central Research Laboratory, since this had been the largest aggregation22 of instruments ever gathered together, and in the ten intervening years, the numbers of college-trained scientists had increased almost ten-fold. As long as the Laboratorians confined their work to the equipment they were familiar with, they were unbeatable. To guide them they had the Book, as the Technical Manual of the Interspatial Corporation was known, and the Laboratorians followed its procedures to the letter.
"But they don't know why they're doing things," Whitemarsh interrupted. "The manual's been in need of revision for the last five years, and research workers don't use the same tests all the time!"
"Well that's right," admitted Sally without disagreement. "I usually have my particular laboratory instructions mimeotyped and bound in a little book. I've also got the instructions so fixed23 that if they do things wrong, I can catch them. And I've learned not to modify my instructions orally. That only confuses the men and results in chaos24. With a little planning, you can get good work done, and if you don't mind humoring their whims25 a little, there's no reason why you can't get along with them."
Whitemarsh wasn't so sure. He had no objections to jollying his subordinates, but he did draw the line at sloppy26 lab technique. He escorted Miss Chester to her own office, thanked her for the briefing, and then started to worry on his own. He took the speed elevator up to Dr. Sheridan's office.
The Laboratory director was sympathetic. He looked at the broad-shouldered young giant, Dr. Whitemarsh, and reflected that this man was rated the most promising27 scientist the Interspatial Corporation ever had.
"You're damn right, Whitemarsh," he told the younger man, pushing him into a chair and offering him a cigarette. "I've been here three years and spent the first two fighting the system. Maybe the trouble goes back to our Board of Directors. They're all so proud of this shining Research Station on the Moon, that they hate to admit that anything's wrong. They've got the Laboratorians responsible to the Lunar Mines Service—and there it stands.
"So the only thing we can do is wait. Lo Presti the Master Mechanic is up for retirement28 next year and there's going to be a big organizational shake-up. Hold tight. After that we may have a free hand."
So Whitemarsh thanked him and bided29 his time. He released Rocco back to some other scientist and did his own laboratory work, even though the Laboratorian Council made a written protest. He also spent many hours in the excellent laboratory library, reading all the reports coming out of the Lunar Laboratory over the past ten years.
His discoveries amazed him. Theoretically the Lunar Lab had one of the best collections of scientific minds in the Solar System. Every Earth university was represented on its staff. New techniques and products had poured out of the Laboratory during the ten years of its existence, yet every one of these had been based on doubtful data. Certain things worried him. First, notes were kept in a very cavalier manner even by the most experienced scientists. Secondly30, the younger chemists and physicists31 never had been exposed to any practical laboratory work after their student days, and consequently had no means of judging the technique of their assistants. Finally, the Laboratorians were apparently32 proud of their ignorance, displayed a contempt for "paper work" and were only too willing to fix their results if they thought they could get away with it....
He did not let his social development slide either. Lunarport was far more advanced culturally than the crude settlement on Phobus. Here Dr. Whitemarsh was able to have a luxurious33 apartment in the New Dome34 sector35, could hear lectures and concerts, and could even indulge in winter sports such as skiing in the lava36 around the craters38 (protected of course by a heated suit and an oxygen mask.) He found Miss Chester a satisfactory companion for such endeavors, even though she spoke39 little of her private life or how she had avoided marriage in her twenty-five years. But he played a waiting game with her as well as with the lab job. He admitted to himself that a research chemist's life at Lunar Lab was a pleasant one, particularly if one didn't care how accurate one's results were. Unfortunately, the same quirk40 which had driven him into science also made him suspicious of all easy methods. He had never recovered from the shock of discovering that just because a reaction worked in a book, it did not necessarily have to do so in a laboratory.
Dr. Whitemarsh's promotion41 came within five rather than six months. There was some grumbling42 among the older scientists, but there was not much they could do about it. Kercheval, who had twelve years' service on the Moon, did not have his Ph.D. and did not care particularly for executive work. Neither did Sturtevant with a doctorate43 and ten years service. But others objected; even Miss Chester, long one of Whitemarsh's defenders44, felt that the older men deserved at least the chance of refusal. (It never occurred to Whitemarsh that she might have had some ambitions of her own.)
He called the group leaders together for a conference the day after his appointment. He was now ensconced behind Sheridan's desk and was not yet accustomed to having a secretary. The leaders came in grim and resentful. He wasted no words.
"I'm going to reorganize the set-up to get the Laboratorians under us, whether they like it or not. This sloppy technical data and unsubstantiated findings is not my idea of a good lab—nor yours, I'm sure. It's up to you to show it during the next year. Meanwhile you've all been pushed up fifty dollars a month in salary. So long!"
His next step was to call on Lo Presti. The Master Mechanic's Office was outside the Lab Dome near the Shaft45 of Lunar Mine No. 1. The old man had been in the preliminary Selenium exploration party and never could forget the old days when he drove the men and robots to find the metal that paid for the cost of the Expedition. The President of the Home Office, Dr. Barker, had never forgotten either, and Lo Presti was always taken care of. The 200 Laboratorians probably caused him more headaches than the five thousand miners ever had, since a delegation46 visited him every day or so now that Dr. Whitemarsh was rumored47 in.
But the Lo Presti knew that times change too, and realized that the brawling48 space adventurer did not fit into a sleek49 world of test tubes and retorts. Ninety-five years old and arrogant50 as ever, he sat in his office and greeted Dr. Whitemarsh with a bonecrushing handshake. He offered a cigar and Whitemarsh thanked him, lighting51 a pipe instead.
"I hear from the boys you've been cracking down on them," he stated.
"No more than you would if you'd been there yourself. What would you do if a driller split a core?"
"Why I'd give the careless sap a clout52 that would wake him up. But the Laboratorians aren't drillers!"
"That's right, but that's the way some of them are muffing their work."
Lo Presti eyed him appraisingly53. "Aren't you the same Whitemarsh who capped the crater37 on Phobus last year?"
"I sure am. And your Laboratorians are a bevy54 of Nice Nellies compared to that mutinous55 bunch of space rats I had with me."
"Well, maybe you're the man for the job at that. The guys don't put out anymore. Used to be I knew all the gang. I'd look around and see when they were goofing56 off. Now they're all such experts, I can't tell if they're loafing or just thinking." They both laughed at that. Whitemarsh thought it would be a good time to say: "I don't want to do anything to your boys for a while until I get my own gang straightened out!"
"Don't kid me, Doc," responded Lo Presti, "you know when I retire you're going to move in and crack down. Well I'm with you!"
So they parted friends.
Whitemarsh went back to his office in a happy mood. True, Miss Chester had been avoiding him lately and he had to drink coffee by himself but he now had the foremen on his side and the front office. Now was the chance to reform the laboratory.
His first bombshell was the requirement that all the junior chemists should take a qualifying examination. That really caused trouble in paradise. Apparently, all of the younger set had thrown away their books on graduation and remembered only their own specialties57. Whitemarsh, from being a pleasant companion at the Snack Bar who discussed skiing and spaceball, had now become an ogre of the first water. The senior chemists chuckled58, since they were exempt59, and the Laboratorians guffawed60 aloud to see their harriers in turn harried61. In any event there was frenzied62 activity in the month before the examination and the library staff did yeoman duty. And, no one had threatened to quit. At least almost no one. Whitemarsh was musingly63 staring out of his office's Plastoid window at the green eye of Earth when he heard a commotion64 outside in the ante-room. He looked out to see Sally Chester, and he sensed that their relationship was less than idyllic65.
"Let me see that egotistical ass6, Whitemarsh," she shouted at his secretary who cowered66 in silk clad finery as the white-coated Valkyrie charged by.
"Be calm," he advised her, placing himself strategically behind his desk.
"Calm," she screamed, "how can I be calm when an officious busybody starts getting drunk with power and acting67 like a Twentieth Century dictator? After all I've done for this stinking68 Lunar Lab, how come that I have to take an exam in freshman69 chemistry?"
"I thought you were exempt," began the chastened director.
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1
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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3
isotope
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| n.同位素 | |
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4
wranglers
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| n.争执人( wrangler的名词复数 )；在争吵的人；（尤指放马的）牧人；牛仔 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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8
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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9
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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11
certifies
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| （尤指书面）证明( certify的第三人称单数 )； 发证书给…； 证明（某人）患有精神病； 颁发（或授予）专业合格证书 | |
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12
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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13
serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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14
condensers
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| n.冷凝器( condenser的名词复数 )；（尤指汽车发动机内的）电容器 | |
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15
distillation
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| n.蒸馏，蒸馏法 | |
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molecular
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| adj.分子的；克分子的 | |
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17
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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18
meteorites
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| n.陨星( meteorite的名词复数 ) | |
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19
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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20
apprentices
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
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specification
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| n.详述；[常pl.]规格，说明书，规范 | |
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aggregation
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| n.聚合，组合；凝聚 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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physicists
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| 物理学家( physicist的名词复数 ) | |
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32
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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craters
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| n.火山口( crater的名词复数 )；弹坑等 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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40
quirk
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| n.奇事，巧合；古怪的举动 | |
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41
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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42
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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43
doctorate
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| n.(大学授予的)博士学位 | |
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44
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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45
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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47
rumored
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| adj.传说的，谣传的v.传闻( rumor的过去式和过去分词 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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48
brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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49
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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50
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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51
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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52
clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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53
appraisingly
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| adv.以品评或评价的眼光 | |
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54
bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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55
mutinous
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| adj.叛变的，反抗的；adv.反抗地，叛变地；n.反抗，叛变 | |
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56
goofing
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| v.弄糟( goof的现在分词 )；混；打发时间；出大错 | |
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57
specialties
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| n.专门，特性，特别；专业( specialty的名词复数 )；特性；特制品；盖印的契约 | |
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58
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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60
guffawed
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| v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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62
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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65
idyllic
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| adj.质朴宜人的，田园风光的 | |
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66
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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67
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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68
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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69
freshman
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| n.大学一年级学生(可兼指男女) | |
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