"Everyone whose reading tastes matured no further than Edgar Rice Burroughs!"
The Mind, with a if-you-know-so-much-why-aintcha-rich look, sneered, "How come you know all about it?"
Speechless, I spread my hands. This joker was leading with his chin, forcing the fight. I had to hit him again; if I lost, I lost good. "A person," I said slowly and rhythmically, "with normal intelligence and a minute interest in the universe, will keep step with the major sciences, at least on an elementary level. I must stress the qualification of normal intelligence."
The Mind, face contorted, was determined to get me. I was in a very vulnerable spot; more important, so was the idea.
Mind began an emotional tirade, and mentally I damned him. It couldn't have mattered to him what environment we used, but he was politicking where he shouldn't.
There was silence when he stopped. This was the crux; The Boss would decide. I held my breath.
He said, "We'll make it hot and dusty." The realists had won; the rest climbed on the bandwagon but quick; and the temple was cleansed.
It was natural—because at the moment I was fair-haired—for the project to become mine. God knows, I worked hard for it. I'd have to watch the Mind, though; he would make things as difficult as possible.
However, he'd proved he was the one person I wasn't seeking. One down and 2,499,999,999 to go.
Within a few days, a new opposition coalition formed, headed by the Mind. Fortunately, they helped. I'd hesitated on one last point. Pushed. I gambled the momentum of the initial enthusiasm would carry it.