"Mr. Barden," she said icily, "tossing insults will get us nowhere. I've tried to give you my viewpoint. You've given me yours. Now—"
"We're at the same impasse we were a half hour ago. My viewpoint is as valid as yours because there's nobody within a number of light-years that can tell the truth of the matter. You are asking me to suppress a new science. Leonardo Da Vinci was asked to suppress the submarine for the good of the race. He did it so well that we know about the whole affair."
"Meaning?"
"That true suppression would have covered the incident, too. But the submarine was suppressed only until men developed techniques and sciences that made undersea travel practical. If I suppress this science, how long do you think it will be before it is started again by someone else? How did either of our informants get the information?"
"Why ... ah—"
"By trying it themselves!" said Barden, banging a fist on the desk for emphasis. "Suppression is strictly ostrich tactics, Miss Ward. You can't avoid anything by hoping that if you don't admit it's there it may go away. It never does. The way to live honorably and safely is to meet every obstacle and every danger as it comes and by facing them, learn how to control them. Shakespeare said that—'The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune ... or nobler in the heart to take arms against a sea of troubles ... and by facing them, to conquer them!' That may be bum misquote, Miss Ward, but it is true."
"Then you intend to try it out?"
"I most certainly do!"
Edith Ward stood up. "I've nothing more to say. You force me to take action."
"I'm sorry, Miss Ward. If it is battle you want, you'll get it. You'll find it harder to quell Tom Barden The Successful than you found it a year ago when you shut off Tom Barden The Theorist with a word of scorn. I'm sorry—I really am."