Goldengirl

‘Fortunately, no. I think she’s as committed as the rest of us. The cause of my concern is you, Dr. Serafin.’

‘Do you suppose I’m not committed to this?’ said Serafin in amazement.

‘On the contrary, I’m sure you are. What concerns me is why. When we met on the tennis ranch last month, Dryden came up with a new proposal for dividing the profits. We agreed to it without any hassle at all.’

‘The agreements are ready for you to sign,’ said Serafin.

‘Fine,’ said Cobb with a smile. ‘I’m not asking for changes. The terms suited me, as I’m sure they suited everyone else. Except you. In effect, you forfeited your right to a direct share of the profits. Okay, you represent the trust, and Goldengirl isn’t going to let you starve, but I still find it baffling that you surrendered your right to a guaranteed two million. Either you’re a fool, which I don’t believe, or there’s something in this for you worth more than two million bucks. If there is, your fellow members of the consortium are entitled to know what it is.’

Serafin eased a finger around his collar and blinked as if pained. It was an understandable reaction. If Valenti or Sternberg had put in the knife, he might have turned the thrust aside. From Cobb, it wasn’t a wild stab; it was an incision, carefully measured, precisely completed. And now the wound gaped.

He made an attempt at evasion, almost as a reflex. ‘I’m not clear on the relevance of this to our meeting. We are here to discuss Dryden’s proposals, aren’t we?’

His appeal was to the others around the table, but Cobb replied, speaking in the mild, urbane manner he had used throughout. ‘You’d like me to explain the relevance? I thought possibly you’d prefer to speak for yourself.’

Serafin shrugged. ‘You started this. You’d better go on. I’m still not sure what it is about.’

‘Very well,’ said Cobb. ‘Gentlemen, I’ve reason to believe Dr. Serafin intends to use Goldengirl’s forthcoming fame to give publicity to certain theories he holds. As I made clear a minute or two ago, when I joined the consortium I took steps to learn what I could about everyone involved. I’ve no doubt that the rest of you did likewise. My inquiries into Dr. Serafin’s career revealed that he has devoted much of his working life to propounding certain physiological theories. I believe he masterminded Project Goldengirl as a genuine attempt to justify these theories. We’ve been backing a scientific experiment. That’s okay. It still happens to be an attractive commercial proposition. Once I was satisfied that the object of the experiment was three gold medals, I was in. So long as I collect, I don’t mind what this venture proves. The thing that needs discussing now is what effect it will have on the merchandising campaign if Dr. Serafin gets up after the Games and claims Goldengirl is the triumph of his experiment. That’s the relevance to our present discussion. What will it do for the image if Goldengirl is admitted to be a golden guinea pig?’

Serafin was ashen. ‘It wouldn’t be like that,’ he said in a voice tremulous with shock. ‘A scientific paper, that’s all I have in mind. Something in the American Journal of Physiology. It needn’t affect the merchandising. The public at large isn’t interested in my theories. I want to demonstrate the truth to my colleagues in the world of biological science. It’s far too technical to be of wider interest.’

‘I feel like Dow Jones just dropped fifty points,’ said Valenti.

‘Would somebody fill me in?’ said Sternberg.

Dryden obliged. Why should Cobb do all the running? ‘Dr. Serafin supports a theory that the human race is growing taller from one generation to the next. He contributed some important research to the argument in the sixties. Physiologists who contest the theory say that the human frame isn’t capable of adapting to indefinite increases. They believe the trend Dr. Serafin and others have reported is just a process of restoration to normalcy after bad conditions in the last century produced stunted people. Goldengirl is an exceptional individual, a prodigy, as tall as Dr. Serafin expects people to become in the next century, but with a physique to match her height. A six-foot-two-inch mesomorph, perhaps unique among women. If she wins in Moscow, he can claim her performances prove the body capable of functioning efficiently — no, superlatively — with the larger frame he projects people will have in the future.’

‘I see someone else has been digging,’ said Cobb.

‘That’s all we’re sweating over?’ said Sternberg. ‘Do you think anyone gives six bits whether we’re all growing taller?’