Free The Ninth Wave by Eugene Burdick

used again in the experiments.

Mike turned away. The pennies had been divided, and each of them received

205 pennies. Mike took his, put them in his pocket. He grinned at

Dr. Urich and walked out of the door. In the corridor he stopped for a

moment to look at the catatonic rats. The rat with its paws under its

chin was still slanted sideways. Mike gently, bent the rat forward until

it was on all fours. Then he pushed it over to the water spout at the

end of the cage. The rat's tongue shot out, licked at the water and Mike

left after it had consumed a half dozen drops.

Mike was almost at the foot of the stairs before Bill Evans caught up with

him. Bill was breathing hard, but his face was bright with excitement.

"I wanted to thank you," he said hurriedly, not looking at Mike's face. "I

hate both of them; Dr. Urich and Dr. Sutliff. I hate them and that damned

test. It made me nervous. I've been doing it for weeks. I always get about

the same number of pennies. Never over fifty an hour. They always acted

so damned superior. I'm glad we did it the way you wanted. Did you see

how mad Dr. Urich was? Serves her right. I'm glad. Really glad."

He jingled the pennies in his pocket and smiled quickly at Mike and then

looked away.

"Anyway thanks," Bill said. "I'm glad we did it. I got so I was hating

the two of them. I feel better now."

He turned quickly and trotted away. Mike never saw him again at Stanford.

Mike walked slowly across the Quad. Something is wrong with the two

professors, he thought. There was something important they were

missing. They were testing for something little, something screwy,

unimportant. And something big was involved.

He turned the experiment over in his mind, tried to find the correct

words. They slipped away from him, remained just at the edge of his

mind. He walked by the chapel, past the clumps of palm trees and around

the tall thin hulk of the Hoover Library.

Then it came to him. He stopped. A girl drove by on a bicycle and he was

only aware of the spinning wheels, the clank of the chain, the flash of

her plaid skirt.

The important part of the afternoon's experiment was this, Mike ,thought,

and the words went like a written sentence across his mind: one person

can make a decision faster than a group.

That's it, he thought. That's Freesmith's First Principle of Human Behavior:

One person can make a decision faster than a group. That's exactly,

perfectly, precisely, absolutely it.

He walked on toward Encina Hall. He was almost there when he thought of

Bill Evans and another principle crossed his mind. Freesmith's Second

Principle of Human Behavior: The weak person wants to be delivered from

the superior person.

Delivered to what? he asked, as if the principle had been stated by

another person.

It doesn't matter, he said. Deliverance is enough.

CHAPTER 5

Close to Vest

The first quarter Hank did not go to three of his classes. He stayed in

his room and read anatomy, physiology and biology. Two nights before an

examination he would read over Mike's notes on the course. Then Mike

would ask him questions on the course. The night before examinations

they did not sleep at all. They went over the notes endlessly.

in the morning they would leave Encina and walk out for breakfast. Dawn

turned the hills across the Bay a soft suede texture. The big sandstone

buildings around the Quad had a queer ugly unity and often there was the

salt smell of fog in the air. They walked through the lonely world like

men about to make a conquest. Their eyes glittered from too much coffee

and too little sleep. When, finally, they picked up their bluebooks and

sat down to answer the questions it seemed incredibly easy and simple.

At the end of the first quarter, they received their grades. Mike put

the cards on the table in their room and studied them.

"Not good enough, Hank," he said. "My grades are good enough to get a

scholarship next year. I've got three A's and one B.