On ordinary days there were only the usual few science reporters in thepress room of E.H.Q. These held their jobs by the difficult compromisebetween the scientists' insistence upon accuracy and their publishers'equal insistence upon sensationalism.
Since the publisher paid the salary; since rewrite men, like televisionwriters, maintained their own feeling of superiority to the mass bywriting down to the level of a not very bright twelve-year-old; sincethe facts had to be trimmed and altered to fit the open space or timeslot; even these reporters had a difficult time of maintaining the usualodds--that there is only a twenty-to-one chance that anything said inthe newspapers or on the air may be accurate.
But on this morning the press room was crowded. In spite of all effortsof journalism to stir up old animosities to make news, or to forcefactional leaders into rashness which could not be settled withoutviolence; the various states of world government insisted uponnegotiating ethnical differences amicably, and factional leaderspersisted in keeping their heads. There had been no world-shakingdiscoveries made in the last week or so; the public no longer believedthat changing a screw thread was exactly a scientific "break-through";no real or imagined scandals seemed of such journalistic stature as towork the public into a frenzy of intolerance for one another'saberrations.
In such a dry spell, when advertisers were beginning to questioncirculation figures, and editors were racking their brains for a stronghate symbol to create interest, the delayed report from Eden came as asummer shower, that might be magnified into a flood.
EDEN SILENT quickly became COLONY FEARED LOST and progressed normally toCOLONY WIPED OUT.
That there was no proof of loss or destruction bothered no one injournalism. If it did turn out this way, they'd have been on top of thenews; and if it didn't, well, who remembers yesterday's headlines in thepress of today's new hate and panic.
The public, with an established addiction to ever increasing daily dosesof sensationalism, and deprived of its shots through this dry spell,snapped out of its apathy to greet this new thrill with vociferous callsto editors, wires to congressmen, telegrams to the Administration.
What are we doing about this colony that has been wiped out? Where isour space battle fleet? Who is going to be punished?
It was an overnight sensation, and on this morning following the newsleak there could even be seen some secretaries to the writers for topcommentators and columnists in the crowded press room.
Naturally these stood in little groups apart and associated only witheach other to maintain the literary tradition of proper insulation fromthe realities of what was going on in the rest of the world. Obviouslyno first-rate writer could have afforded to appear in person not onlybecause of damage to his stature lest it be noted he was doing his ownspadework; but, more important, first-hand observation might limit hiscapacity for rationalizing the situation into the mold demanded by thebias of his commentator or columnist. It was always difficult tomaintain author integrity when the facts did not support thesensationalism required by the employers, and best not to put oneself insuch a position.
Now two of these secretaries could be seen over in a corner of the pressroom exchanging their views, probing one another for information. Noone thought it curious they weren't trying to get the information fromsource for everyone in journalism understands the importance lies inwhat the competition is going to say, not in what happened.
"How long has it been since the first message came through, or didn't?"
"Fourteen hours, about."
"We could have had a rescue fleet out there by now."
"To rescue 'em from what?"
"Whatever's wrong."
"I understand an assistant attorney general is checking into it."
"So Gunderson's still gunning for the E's, eh?"
"Has he ever let up since he became attorney general? Gripes his soul hecan't arrest them for not doing what he wants, or for doing what hedoesn't want."
"How'd they ever get immune, anyhow?"
"Skip class that day in history?"
"Must've."
"Vague, myself. Right after the insurrection. Seems there were twopowers, Russia and America. The people of the world got fed up, gave apox to both their houses, boiled over, formed a world government.Somehow the scientists got in their licks in the turmoil, pointed outthat scientists who have to confine their discoveries to what suits theideology of the non-scientists can only find limited solutions."
"Quite a deal."
"Could only happen in a world turmoil, when everything was fluid.Anyhow, they got away with it, for a certain group, Extrapolators, hadto be free to extrapolate without fear of reprisal."
"Boy, something. Imagine. Take any dame you want. Nobody can squawk.Take any money, riches you want. Nobody can stop it."
"Funny thing. Nothing like that happens. Idea seems to be that when youdon't have to fight against restrictions, they aren't important anymore. At least not to an E."
"Guess that's why one of 'em pointed out that police are the major causeof crime."
"Whether he was right or wrong, that's what sent Gunderson into a tailspin. I wouldn't be surprised but what he's a little hipped on thatsubject. He'll get 'em one of these days. Even an E can make a mistake,and when one of 'em does, he'll be there."
"I dunno, the public has a lot of hero-worship for the E. Pretty toughfor any politician to buck that."
"The public! You know as well as I do--they think what we tell 'em tothink, you and me."
"You think that's why he's got a man out here on this Eden thing?Looking for a mistake?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. He just never passes up the chance that maybe thistime he can grab something."
"Between Gunderson and the E's, I'll take the E's."
"Your boss feel the same way?"
"Far as I know."
"But if your boss changed his mind, you would have an agonizingreappraisal."