Eaker spoke up again. "It seems to me we're overlooking an important point here, gentlemen. Isn't Fairyland supposed to be a sort of testing ground for a particular sociological theory? It seems to me we'd be defeating our purpose if we removed this lad just because he doesn't seem to fit. If the world is to be converted to a Fairyland, there'll be more Adam-Two's from time to time. What's to be done with them?"
"Nuts!" I said. "It's not the same problem, and you know it. If the whole world were like this place, Fairyland would be the only reality there was. Guys like Adam would have to accept it.... Why don't you just admit that you don't want to be bothered with this?"
Boswell rapped for order. "Gentlemen, there's no need to waste any more time with this.... Now Harry, you know we've got no real jurisdiction in this. We're just advisory. The Kids are all wards of the Solar State and if you want to appeal for help through official channels, we'll be glad to initiate a request for you when we get back to Earth."
I realized now that I might as well have saved my breath. It was the old bureaucratic buck-pass. For twenty years, the Uncles' visit had been merely an annual ritual—and they intended to keep it that way. They had a nice, soft touch and they weren't going to let anything spoil it. Sure, they'd initiate a report ... and by the time it filtered through the spiral nebula of red-tape, Adam and I would both have died of old age.
I gathered up my papers. "Just forget it," I said sourly. "If there's no further business, let's adjourn for lunch and I'll take you back to the ship."
At the spaceport we shook hands and Hoppy hung back after the others had gone up the gangway. He put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry about this Adam thing, Harry."
"Forget it."
"I know how you feel, and I wish we could help. But you know how it is...."
"Sure. I know how it is."