Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [103]
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m sorry if we interrupted at an inopportune time, sir. I hope you’re not offended. But when we heard you were going to be here—” He stopped midsentence. “My name is Adrian Shelborne. This is David Dryden. When we heard you were going to be here, we just couldn’t resist coming by to wish you a happy birthday.”
“You don’t sound like a New Englander, Mr. Shelborne.”
“I was born and grew up in Philadelphia, sir.”
“I see. Well, I thank you for the good wishes.”
The two men from the table downstairs arrived at precisely that moment. “I see they found you, Ben,” said the Hispanic.
Shel smiled and held out the package. “Mr. Franklin, we brought you a gift.”
Franklin looked curiously at it, but made no move to accept it.
“It’s a book,” said Shel.
He took it, finally. He opened the bag and withdrew one of the volumes. “Interesting,” he said. He held it up so everyone in the room could see it. “Gulliver’s Travels.” He glanced at the second volume and turned back to Shel and Dave. “That’s a substantial gift for someone you do not know.”
“It’s small enough return for one who has given us so much pleasure.”
A man with shaggy red hair laughed. “The Brits say whoever wrote it is a troublemaker.”
“Good,” roared another. “Troublemakers always make the best reading.” He smiled up at Franklin. “Don’t they, Ben?”
No one else seemed to have known it was Franklin’s birthday. They thanked the newcomers, passed a motion that Franklin not be permitted to pay for his drinks, and, after some discussion, passed another suspending the rule barring nonmembers from participating in meetings. Shel and Dave were shown a copy of the bylaws, which informed them, while on the premises, they must keep open minds, that no unprovable assertion would be considered sacrosanct, that strong opinions would not be tolerated, and that speakers were not to monopolize the time.
“We are not a debating club,” Franklin said. “Our goal is to get at the truth, where that is possible.”
THE topic for the evening was the willingness of human beings to be influenced by the social milieu in which they live. Tribalism. The damage that unthinking groups, following what would eventually be called memes, inflict on each other. The discussion rapidly veered off into whether rebels are as dangerous to a peaceful society as those who are unthinkingly obedient and respect authority.
It went back and forth. Without authoritarian controls, chaos would ensue. But people acting in the name of authority, or of a group, will commit atrocities they would never perpetrate on their own.
Take the New England witch trials, for example.
Shel found himself thinking of the Holocaust. He wondered how many in that room would believe that such an event was even possible in a supposedly civilized nation. If it could happen in Germany, could it happen anywhere?
The man who’d taken them into the hall, Hugh Meredith, wondered if it wasn’t possible to establish strict controls on authority. “Give ultimate power to the people,” he suggested.
“I agree,” said John Jones, Jr., a shoemaker. “Surely there is a place between authoritarian rule and chaos.”
“Perhaps,” said Franklin, “we should resurrect Rome. Cicero’s Rome.”
“Divide the power.” Voices were joining in from all over the room.
“Two consuls.”
“A senate.”
“And vote them all out every couple of years.”
AT the end of the evening, as the members were leaving, Franklin took Shel and Dave aside. “I think you will be receiving an invitation to join our group,” he said. “I will hope to see you again.”
“Ah,” said Shel, “we appreciate the compliment. Unfortunately, we do not live close enough that a membership would be practical.”
“That’s a pity. Where are you living currently?”
“Baltimore.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Well, we were glad to have had you with us for the evening.” He gazed down at Gulliver’s Travels. “And thank you for this. I’ve heard interesting things about it.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it, Ben.” (They were by then on first-name terms.)
“By the way,” said Dave, “I wonder