The Eyes of Heisenberg Read Online Free Page A

phone. “Any flaws?”
    â€œA latent myxedema, a projective faulty heart valve, but the—”
    â€œOkay, I’ll call you after I’ve seen the—”
    â€œDamn it to hell!” Potter erupted. “Will you let me get ten words out of my mouth without interrupting?” He glared into the screen. “There’s something here more important than flaw and the parents.” Potter glanced up at Svengaard, back to the screen. “Sven reports he saw an outside adjustment of the arginine deficiency.”
    A low whistle came from the phone, then, “Reliable?”
    â€œDepend on it.”
    â€œDid it follow the pattern of the other eight?”
    Potter glanced up at Svengaard, who nodded.
    â€œSven says yes.”

    â€œThey won’t like that.”
    â€œI don’t like it.”
    â€œDid Sven see enough to get any … new ideas on it?”
    Svengaard shook his head.
    â€œNo,” Potter said.
    â€œThere’s a strong possibility it isn’t significant,” the man on the phone said. “In a system of increasing determinism—”
    â€œOh, yes,” Potter sneered. “In a system of increasing determinism you get more and more indeterminism. You might as well say in a foofram of increasing haggersmaggle—”
    â€œWell, it’s what they believe.”
    â€œSo they say. I believe Nature doesn’t like being meddled with.”
    Potter stared into the screen. For some reason, he recalled his youth, the beginning of his medical studies and the day he’d learned how very close his genotype had been to the Optiman. He found that the old core of hatred had become mildly amused tolerance and cynicism.
    â€œI don’t see why they put up with you,” the man on the phone said.
    â€œBecause I was very close,” Potter whispered. He wondered then how close the Durant embryo would be. I’ll do my best, he thought.
    The man on the phone cleared his throat, said, “Yes, well I’ll depend on you to handle things at your end. The embryo ought to provide some verification of the outside inter—”
    â€œDon’t be a total ass!” Potter snapped. “The emb will bear out Sven’s report to the last enzyme. You tend to your job; we’ll do ours.” He slapped the cut-off, pushed the phone back onto the desk and sat staring at it. “Pompous damned … no—he’s what he is because he’s what he is. Comes from living too close to them. Comes from the original cut. Maybe I’d be an ass too if that’s what I had to be.”
    Svengaard tried to swallow in a dry throat. He’d never before heard such an argument or such frank talk from the men who operated out of Central.

    â€œShocked you, eh, Sven?” Potter asked. He dropped his feet to the floor.
    Svengaard shrugged. He felt ill-at-ease.
    Potter studied the man. Svengaard was good within his limits, but he lacked creative imagination. A brilliant surgeon, but without that special quality he was often a dull tool.
    â€œYou’re a good man, Sven,” Potter said. “Dependable. That’s what your record says, you know. Dependable. You’ll never be anything else. Weren’t meant to be. In your particular niche, though, you’re it.”
    Svengaard heard only the praise, said, “It’s good to be appreciated, of course, but—”
    â€œBut we have work to do.”
    â€œIt will be difficult,” Svengaard said. “Now.”
    â€œDo you think that outside adjustment was an accidental thing?” Potter asked.
    â€œI—I’d like to believe that”—Svengaard wet his lips with his tongue—“it wasn’t determined, that no agency …”
    â€œYou’d like to lay it to uncertainty, to Heisenberg,” Potter said. “The principle of uncertainty, some result of our own meddling—everything an accident in the capricious