He was about to graduate. No more Mickey Mouse routines for him. Now, headed for Tech, he was finally going to be able to sink his teeth into electronics and radio.
He picked up and admired the little Crosley battery-powered set he had repaired.
“Boy, won’t Betty be surprised when I give her this! Bet she’ll like it better than some old corsage!”
“Edison, the transmitter is on the fritz again. Want to give it a try?”
The senior in charge of the university’s FM radio station had spotted the geeky underclassman awhile back hanging around the broadcast studio, peering at the equipment with curious eyes. When he’d approached the kid, thinking he might have found another aspiring announcer, he was floored to learn he already had his Class A commercial radio license. Not even the technician from the company that maintained the equipment had achieved such an advanced certification.
From then on the transmitter was Edison’s baby. He tuned it so well it had never sounded better—and he even did some subbing as an announcer when he set up the first remote broadcasts by the school station.
Edison felt like he was in heaven, but he was also aware that there was nothing eternal about it. He was amazed at how time was speeding by. Before he knew it, he had left undergrad studies for graduate school and his research thesis, then a doctoral dissertation.
His reputation was such that even before he earned his doctorate, various tech firms across the country were pitching job offers. The winner: Ma Bell.
“Edison, your dissertation can’t be published.”
“What’s wrong with it, Dr. Baker? Isn’t it good enough?”
Baker didn’t respond.
“I can prove every point and substantiate everything. You assigned me the topic, for heaven’s sake! Do the other members of the doctoral committee agree with you?”
Baker looked at the strangely intense young man, who suddenly made him feel old and tired of the game. The boy had achieved more in his short time at school than most of his colleagues had in a full career. His only drawback was not understanding how things worked in the real world. This kid should have been born in the Middle Ages, where he could have spent his whole life safely tucked away in some monastery scrawling his manuscripts, hoping that someday they would be discovered by future generations.
He was too honest to survive the piranhas out there.
The professor rubbed his bald spot as he thought things through. What he said next probably would determine the boy’s entire future.
“Mr. Edison, there’s nothing wrong with your dissertation. You’ve made a persuasive case for a worldwide information and communications system that would link every person and every bit of data available for research. Your encryption programs and algorithms are the most elegant I have ever seen. The committee and I fully agree with your conclusions.”
He paused and sighed.
“Don’t worry about your degree. Your work has already guaranteed you that. I can, in all honesty, say that you have been the most brilliant student I have ever dealt with.”
“What’s wrong, then? Why can’t it be published?”
Somewhere in Baker’s memory the question triggered another time and another young man standing in front of a professor, incredulous at what he was hearing. Was it that long ago? He had once been such an altruist, wanting to help humanity with his work.
“Edison, I work here at the university as a full professor of electronics and communications. But I also do consulting work on the side. With what they pay us here it’s been necessary, but it’s also an ego builder to know someone out there considers my opinions worthwhile.
“I consult for the government in certain areas, and because of that I am obligated to bring specific types of research to the attention of those involved in national security. Congress passed a law in 1951 called The Invention Secrecy Act that gives the government the right to suppress any invention or research considered dangerous to the national defense. Your paper falls into that category.”
Edison laughed at the implication.
“All my paper does is describe a network of individualized communications and exchange of knowledge bases. The programs I’ve designed protect it from interference. There’s nothing seditious in that, is there?”
Such a brilliant young man, Baker thought, how could he be so naïve? He looked at the sandy-haired, crew-cut, scarecrow-thin figure standing before him in worn khaki pants and polo shirt and tried one more time to get through.
“Edison, the whole power structure in this country is based on controlling the public’s access to information. Can you imagine what would happen if every comment a national leader made could be double-checked for truth and then disseminated instantly countrywide without being filtered through the news media? How about instantaneous access to the stock market? What would happen if it became worldwide?”
“Maybe that would bring about a better world than we have now, Dr. Baker.” Edison scratched his nose, and adjusted his glasses. He would have done anything to bring this conversation to a close. He had been raised to seek the truth, to test hypotheses and concepts against reality, but now he was being told that was wrong.
Dear God, an idealist!
Baker shook his head.
“Let me put it another way, Edison. Your government, your country, needs your abilities. There is a department called ARPA, the Advanced Research Projects Agency. The Pentagon runs it. The people there are very interested in your work. They want you to consult for them—part-time. I know you’ve already agreed to do research work at Bell Labs, but this won’t interfere. The only catch is you cannot publish your dissertation and you cannot discuss it with anyone. Officially, your paper title and material will be classified and a replacement will be substituted.”
“Dr. Baker, I’ve never heard of ARPA.”
“Well, they’ve heard of you. That’s all you need to know for now—that and the fact that I work for them. Are you interested? Tell me now.”
Edison just stood there, not knowing what to say.
“I’ll be honest, Edison. You really only have one option. If you don’t accept, it will be as though you never attended this university. Everything you’ve done here will stay here. It won’t be my doing, though. Neither one of us has a choice on this.”
Edison still didn’t speak. After a moment or two, he nodded his head yes, then turned and walked out of the office.
Welcome to the real world, boy.
Edison walked aimlessly across the campus, head down, a frown on his face, his mind in turmoil. Until this moment, things had been so black-and-white simple. Something worked or it didn’t. If it worked, you used it; if it didn’t, you fixed it. The only complexities involved dealing with people. On that score, things had never been easy for him, no matter how hard he had tried to apply the laws of physics to human relationships.
Naïve as he was, he knew immediately that Professor Baker’s offer was no offer; it was an ultimatum. As the professor had said, he had no choice—he had to accept. But he didn’t have to like it. Besides, sometimes passivity had its own rewards.
Now if he could only get his personal life in order.
His studies took up so much time and his shyness was sometimes so overpowering that he hadn’t had a steady girlfriend all through college. Yet he fantasized about starting a family. He wanted children he could love and teach. He wanted to see them grow and learn to love the things that fascinated him. He also wanted someone to share his feelings, someone to love and to be loved by. Even he knew that you could talk to a piece of equipment only so long before realizing it couldn’t sympathize when things went wrong.
He had tried school mixers, clubs, athletic