I felt an almost irresistible urge to lean across the conference table and hit him in the mouth. I turned to Boswell and said, "Chub, I think you'd better get this pip-squeak out of here."
Boswell glowered at Pettigrew. "Petty, I told you to watch your lip."
"I don't have to take that kind of talk from you, Boswell!"
"Yes you do, as long as I'm Chairman of this committee!"
"Don't be surprised if we have a new Chairman shortly after we return to Earth," said Mr. Pettigrew smugly.
Boswell grinned at me. "Mr. Pettigrew figgers he's got influence, Harry. He has a second cousin on the Senate Committee of the Galactic Council. Figgers he'll have me sacked and make himself Chairman. He ain't been a bureaucrat long enough to appreciate the red-tape involved in that kind of caper."
I laughed, and managed to look at Pettigrew without wanting to hit him. "I don't mind questions," I said, "as long as they're put to me in a civil manner.
"I'll tell you, Mr. Pettigrew, what the purpose of this 'installation' is. We're trying to find out how to make people happy. And we think we've got the answer. Don't let them find out that there's no Santa Claus, that everybody dies, that it doesn't always pay to be good. Don't let them know that sex is dirty, childbirth is painful, and not everybody can be a champion. Don't let them find out what a stupid, sordid, ugly, ridiculous place the world is. In short, Mr. Pettigrew, don't let them grow up!"
"Nonsense!"
"Nonsense, Mr. Pettigrew? You saw them. You saw how they live. You saw their faces and heard them laugh. Judge for yourself."