MY JOB, finished now, hadbeen getting them to Disneyland.The problem was bringingone in particular—one I hadto find. The timing was uncomfortablyclose.
I'd taken the last of the yellowpills yesterday, tossing thebottle away with a sort of indifferentfrustration. I won or loston the validity of my logic—andwhether I'd built a bettermousetrap.
The pills had given me 24hours before the fatal weaknesstook hold; nevertheless, I waitedas long as I could. That left meless than an hour, now; strangely,as I walked in the eerie darknessof an early morning, virtuallydeserted Disneyland, I feltcalm. And yet, my life dependedon the one I sought being insidethe Tour building.
I was seeking a monster ofterrible potential, yet so innocuouslooking that he'd not standout. I couldn't produce him,couldn't say where in the worldhe was. Nevertheless he was thebasis, the motivation secondonly to mine. I took the long,hard way—three years—makinghim come to me.
Two years were devoted to acclimatization,learning, and thenswinging this job: just to putthe idea across.
Assigned to Disneyland PublicRelations in the offices atBurbank, I'd begun with theusual low-pay, low-level jobs. Ididn't, couldn't mind; at leastI had a foot in the right door.Within six months, I reached apoint where I could present theidea.
It had enough merit. My boss—35years' experience enabledhim to recognize a good idea—tookit to his boss who took it toThe Boss.
Tomorrowland is the orphandivision of Disneyland, thrownin as sop to those interestedmore in the future than thepast. My idea was to sex up Tomorrowland:Tour the SolarSystem.
Not really, but we'd bill itthat way. The Tour of the SolarSystem Building was to belarge. Its rooms would reproduceenvironments of parts of theSystem, as best we knew them.
I'll never forget the firstplanning session when we realistswere underdogs, yet swungthe basic direction. By then, theHollywood Mind had appeared.The Hollywood Mind is definitelya real thing, a vicious thing,a blank thing, that paternalisticallyinsists It knows what thepublic wants.
There was general agreementon broad outlines. Trouble beganover Venus.
"Of course," said one of theMinds, "we'll easily create aswampy environment—"
I burst out with quiet desperation:"May I comment?"
The realists were churning.Right there, sides were beingchosen. I let all know my sideimmediately.
"Venus is hot, but it's desertheat. Continuous dust stormswith fantastic winds—"
"People'd never go for thatjunk," interrupted the Mind."Everyone knows Venus isswampy."
"Everyone whose readingtastes matured no further thanEdgar Rice Burroughs!"
The Mind, with a if-you-know-so-much-why-aintcha-richlook,sneered, "How come you knowall about it?"
Speechless, I spread myhands. This joker was leadingwith his chin, forcing the fight.I had to hit him again; if I lost,I lost good. "A person," I saidslowly and rhythmically, "withnormal intelligence and a minuteinterest in the universe, willkeep step with the major sciences,at least on an elementarylevel. I must stress the qualificationof normal intelligence."
The Mind, face contorted, wasdetermined to get me. I was in avery vulnerable spot; more important,so was the idea.
Mind began an emotional tirade,and