“But of course you need a team,” Kosoff insisted. “I don’t expect you to draw up the plan all by yourself, without help.”
Sitting in front of Kosoff’s desk, Brad protested, “But I don’t want a team. I have Emcee, he’s got access to all the data we’ve acquired.”
“Emcee is just a computer.”
“Just a computer? He’s got all the information that a team could give me, and then some.”
Flicking a hand in the air, Kosoff said, “I can’t expect you to do this job by yourself, it—”
“But I’m not alone! I’ve got Emcee.”
“Which is a computer, not a person,” Kosoff said with some heat. “You need a team of human beings, people that you can interact with, people who can show you different attitudes, new ideas.”
Brad shook his head.
Easing his approach, Kosoff coaxed, “Now don’t be stubborn. I’ve picked a team for you and you’ll find your task much easier by using them. Specialists from every department in our group: astronomy, planetology, geophysics, geochemistry … I’ve even put your wife in the biology slot. And I’ve assigned Untermeyer from your own anthropology department to be your second in command.”
Brad sat there, appalled.
“You don’t look happy,” Kosoff observed.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, sir,” Brad replied. “I really do.”
“But?”
Feeling confused, distressed, Brad tried to explain, “I’ve always been kind of a lone wolf. I work best by myself.”
Shaking his head, Kosoff said, “This is too big a job for a lone wolf. You need a team, and you need to learn how to work with others.”
Brad nodded. Reluctantly. Ruefully.
* * *
From Kosoff’s office, Brad went straight to Littlejohn’s. The anthropologist was not there, but the ship’s phone system located him in the biology lab—with Felicia.
The two of them were sitting on castered stools in front of the heavy metal hatch of a pressure chamber. Through its round window Brad could see three lab mice nibbling busily on what looked like lettuce.
As Brad approached them, Felicia tapped a knuckle against the air lock hatch and said, “They’re breathing air from Gamma in there with no problems.”
Despite himself, Brad asked, “How long have they been in there?”
“Two hours,” Felicia said. “I thought, as the bio member of your team, we ought to test the planet’s air, first thing.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Brad said. Turning to Littlejohn, he added, “Both of you.”
The gnomish dark Aborigine understood immediately. “You talked with Kosoff about putting together a team.”
“I don’t want a team,” Brad said.
Felicia asked, “You’d rather work alone?”
“I’d rather ask people for help when I need it. I don’t want a committee, they’ll be pestering me all the time.”
“Well, thank you very much!” But Felicia grinned as she said it.
“I think I understand,” said Littlejohn. “You’re afraid you’ll be spending all your time being a committee chairman, shuffling paperwork, without any time left to do any real work.”
Brad nodded dumbly.
Littlejohn gestured to an empty stool standing a few paces away. “Sit down, Brad. Try to relax.”
“Am I that obvious?” Brad asked as he reached for the stool.
“You look like a bow that’s been pulled tight, ready to fire its arrow.”
As he dragged the stool toward Littlejohn and Felicia, Brad said, “Kosoff just assumes that I’ll need a team of people to help me. I don’t want a team. All I need is access to the individual people who can answer specific questions, solve specific problems.”
“Without memos and meetings and all the trappings of a hierarchy,” said Littlejohn.
“Exactly.”
Felicia said, “But Kosoff doesn’t see it that way.”
“Exactly,” Brad repeated.
“It’s an old story,” Littlejohn said, almost sorrowfully. “There’s a job to be done. The bureaucracy puts together a group to tackle the job, but the larger the group, the more interactions among its people. You have to appoint a manager to handle all the interactions, and the manager becomes another bureaucrat. He stops doing any creative work.”
“I don’t want to be a bureaucrat,” Brad said.
“Kosoff’s only trying to help you, you know,” Felicia said.
“Is he?” Littlejohn asked. “Maybe he’s trying to break Brad’s independent spirit, trying to make him a respectable, dues-paying member of the organization, who follows orders and does things the way Kosoff wants them done.”
“You think?” Brad asked.
“It seems possible.”
“Then what do we do about it?”
Littlejohn sighed. “An ancient piece of wisdom says, when handed a lemon, make lemonade.”
“I don’t get it,” said Brad.
“Kosoff’s setting up a team for you. Don’t waste your time and energy fighting him.”
“But I don’t want—”
Waving Brad to silence, Littlejohn explained, “Let him form the team. You appoint one of them to be your second in command—”
“He’s already named my number-two person: Larry Untermeyer.”
“Larry?” Littlejohn’s surprise was obvious. But he quickly recovered. “All right, then. Let Larry handle the organizational problems. Let him be the bureaucrat who chairs the meetings and assigns the duties. He reports to you, and you stay clear of the hierarchical busywork.”
Brad blinked at him. “You think that will work?”
“Try it and see. Frankly, I think Larry will love the idea.”
Felicia said, “He’ll be protecting you.”
“He’ll be guarding access to you, leaving you free to do the work you need to do.”
Brad looked uncertain, but he said, “I guess it’s worth a try.”
Putting on a serious face, Felicia said, “One thing has to be clear, though. The biologist on your team has to have unrestricted access to you.”
Brad broke into a wide grin. “Yes indeed!”