Man Who Sold the Moon / Orphans of the Sky Read Online Free PDF Page B

until it almost caught up with his little round belly. He glared at the sweating savants. “Well?”
    The judge raised his eyebrows, and caught Mr. Weems’s eye. “Do you accept?”
    “Your Honor, I think the proposal highly improper—”
    The judge cut him short. “I warn you that I shall rule against you if you do not accept, or propose an equally reasonable method of arriving at the truth.”
    Weems opened his mouth, changed his mind, looked up and down the faces of learned witnesses, and faced the bench. “We accept, Your Honor.”
    “Very well. Arrange the details between you. The temporary injunction is lifted, and Dr. Pinero must not be molested in the pursuit of his business. Decision on the petition for permanent injunction is reserved without prejudice pending the accumulation of evidence. Before we leave this matter I wish to comment on the theory implied by you, Mr. Weems, when you claimed damage to your client. There has grown up in the minds of certain groups in this country the notion that because a man or corporation has made a profit out of the public for a number of years, the government and the courts are charged with the duty of guaranteeing such profit in the future, even in the face of changing circumstances and contrary public interest. This strange doctrine is not supported by statute nor common law. Neither individuals nor corporations have any right to come into court and ask that the clock of history be stopped, or turned back, for their private benefit. That is all.”

    Bidwell grunted in annoyance. “Weems, if you can’t think up anything better than that, Amalgamated is going to need a new chief attorney. It’s been ten weeks since you lost the injunction, and that little wart is coining money hand over fist. Meantime every insurance firm in the country is going broke. Hoskins, what’s our loss ratio?”
    “It’s hard to say, Mr. Bidwell. It gets worse every day. We’ve paid off thirteen big policies this week; all of them taken out since Pinero started operations.”
    A spare little man spoke up. “I say, Bidwell, we aren’t accepting any new applications for United until we have time to check and be sure that they have not consulted Pinero. Can’t we afford to wait until the scientists show him up?”
    Bidwell snorted. “You blasted optimist! They won’t show him up. Aldrich, can’t you face a fact? The fat little blister has got something; how I don’t know. This is a fight to the finish. If we wait, we’re licked.” He threw his cigar into a cuspidor, and bit savagely into a fresh one. “Clear out of here, all of you! I’ll handle this my own way. You too, Aldrich. United may wait, but Amalgamated won’t.”
    Weems cleared his throat apprehensively. “Mr. Bidwell, I trust you will consult with me before embarking on any major change in policy?”
    Bidwell grunted. They filed out. When they were all gone and the door closed, Bidwell snapped the switch of the interoffice announcer. “O.K.; send him in.”
    The outer door opened; a slight dapper figure stood for a moment at the threshold. His small dark eyes glanced quickly about the room before he entered, then he moved up to Bidwell with a quick soft tread. He spoke to Bidwell in a flat emotionless voice. His face remained impassive except for the live animal eyes. “You wanted to talk to me?”
    “Yes.”
    “What’s the proposition?”
    “Sit down, and we’ll talk.”

    Pinero met the young couple at the door of his inner office.
    “Come in, my dears, come in. Sit down. Make yourselves at home. Now tell me, what do you want of Pinero? Surely such young people are not anxious about the final roll call?”
    The boy’s honest young face showed slight confusion. “Well, you see, Dr. Pinero, I’m Ed Hartley and this is my wife, Betty. We’re going to have—that is, Betty is expecting a baby and, well—”
    Pinero smiled benignly. “I understand. You want to know how long you will live in order to make the