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No. He was right, in a way. Ted continued. The race had found its new notions were crudities, simple copies of algebras and geometries past. What it thought was vigor was really sloth and decay. What they both have to say, each one says very differently.* * * * Well, Mrs. Carpenter? What do you want of me? He hitched her to the birdcage that was wrapped around the tree and she pulled it loose as pretty as you please. Then he loaded it on the stoneboat and hauled it up the hill and stowed it in the back of the machine shed, in the far corner by the forge. Its a full moon night and he’ll be out for sure, Lazeer said, and what we’re fixing to do is bottle him on just the right stretch, where he got no way off it, no old back-country roads he knows like the shape of his own fist. And here we got it.” He put brackets at either end of astring-straight road. The final number on the spool commenced, a dryly dragging performance of the blues. With a certain stiff embarrassment, Dr. Williams got to his feet, returned to his former place of refuge, and procured the component parts of his clarinet. He assembled it with hands that now shook only slightly, religiously moistened the reed, then returned to sit in his former position. Hold me. Even if I hadnt been scorched to a simmering rage by the time the goonie halted at the edge of the orchard—and sank down on the ground without even unbuckling his harness— I wouldn’t have liked the caller. The important way he climbed down out of the rickshaw, the pompous stride he affected as he strodetoward me, marked him as some petty Company official. GERALD KERSH I know that! he interrupted, then added quickly, sir.” Of course, said the razor. Tell me, didnt you experience a rude awakening one night last week?” The body is a more necessary vehicle because it supports ones clothes, and through clothes one’s pockets. I had left in one of my pockets by mistake my centimeter, an authentic copy in brass of the traditional standard, more portable than the earth or even the terrestrial quadrant, which permits the wandering and posthumous souls of interplanetary savants to concern themselves no further with this old globe, nor even with CGS [centimeter gramme second], as far as measurements of size are concerned, thanks to MM. Mechain and Delambre. It was too late in the day to begin interviewing the Egans and Nathaniel Dobbs. And Sabina was tired and somewhat frazzled from the long days activities. The questions she asked and the answers and reactions she received from the trio would give her a better idea of whether or not any of them was a viable suspect. They were better asked in the morning, when she would be much more alert after a good night’s sleep. This, then, I decided, was the strategic day, the day on which to ask whether I might bring in the microfilm machine and the camera. I wanted to copy all their texts, I explained, and I couldnt write fast enough to do it. Within a few years, half the entries were by writers with whom my only contact was in the formality of securing permission—sometimes that was done through an agent or previous publisher. With many, I did not have even the previous acquaintance of reader-and-writer. (Some had written in other fields, but often as not I did not get around to the back-reading till after the anthology was finished.) There was more to discuss in what was happening to science fiction as a whole: the change in range of interests, the broadening area of publication, the refinement of techniques. Youre certain the shot was fired straight at you? Oh, of course! says Edie hastily. They all sit down. Edie bounces up again. Would you like some coffee, Mr. —er—” she glances over at the card, still in Hanks hands —”Wilier?” Instead of Lucky Strikes, Camels and Chesterfields, we might be buying chiefly Picayunes, Sweet Caporals and Piedmonts. We might not have the Japanese beetle or the atom bomb. While the biggest newspaper in New York could be the Sun, and George Coopernagel might be President. If-what would the world be like right now, what would you or I be doing?-if only things in the past had happened just a tiny bit differently. There are thousands of possibilities, of course; there are millions and trillions. There is every conceivable kind of world, in fact; and a theory of considerable scientific standing-Einstein believed it-is that these other possible worlds actually exist; all of them, side by side and simultaneously with the one we happen to be familiar with..
