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I am, God damn you both! Cordice thought. They stopped talking. Bang! went the door. It was Mr. Mines, gone. Yes, Miss Hutton. I was packing my books. She could imagine. Even at 10% off it would be . . . 6,760 minus 676 equaled whatever it equaled, plus 10% back on for the federal tax. The saddest phenomenon was the lack of distinction between the weary work of hacks published to fill out a schedule and the almost equally weary efforts of some of the biggest Names in s-f. In better times, you would expect the bylines of Brian W. Aldiss, Algis Budrys, Mark Clifton, L. Sprague de Camp, Philip K. Dick, Gordon R. Dickson, Andre Norton, Chad Oliver, Robert Sheckley and Wilson Tucker to mean an all-star imperative-reading list. They all published new novels in 1960; and the novels ranged from just adequately publishable to plain embarrassing. Even the coruscant Theodore Sturgeon produced (inVenus Plus X) an entertainingly controversial essay which failed as a novel. For the first time in 15 years there was no novel, adult or juvenile, from Robert A. Heinlein. But he was satisfied. His mission had been a complete success. He had found out the facts—-he knew the truth, and as soon as he returned home everyone would know the truth. The suffering natives would be given—finally—the aid denied them for so long. He shrugged. "I just know it was fought over possession of couple of tons of di-allium, thats the polarised element the golden brought back from Lupe-galaxy. They used y-adna ships to fight it— thats why it was such a bad war. I mean worse than usual." It was some minutes before he fully realized what was happening. The music contained passages that he found vaguely familiar, but recognition, when it came, still startled him. A chromatic passage that was nothing more nor less than pure Tatum or Hawkins would be followed immediately by the creatures own variations, spine-tingling patterns that meshed perfectly with the rambling yet oddly coherent structure of the music. Baseball and basketball have clearly definable roles, rules, rituals, goals, languages, and values. Psychology, religion, politics, are games, too, learned cultural sequences with clearly defined roles, rules, goals, jargons, values. . . . "Yes. Really touching. Gets me,here." Patrick struck his fist to his chest. "You want to give the trademark to the general public, including our competitors. Come one, come all, anybody can use this name, which isnt a trademark any more, because Harvey doesnt want it spelled with a capital." The wind! The wind, I say. O wild, enigmatic! O muse of St. John Perse! RAY BRADBURY:Almost the End of the World, MoJ [ _14.jpg] I got paid off on Lyra one. I left that deep space boat.I went downtown to the barrooms there, just to wet my throat.The Shoshonu were all around, and one sat down with me.Oh, whatll I do with my Shoshonu?And what’ll she do with me?She hadn’t moulted her humanoid form; she was pretty as could be.She turned her big eyes up to mine, and smiled soulfully.But she slipped a mickey in my drink, when she got home with me.Oh, what’ll I do with my Shoshonu?And what’ll she do with me?When I woke up the wedding was on, and I was saying,Yes—The High Shoshonu’s six-foot fangs two inches from my vest.The relatives were all around, they swarmed all over me.Oh, what’ll I do with my Shoshonu?And what’ll she do with me?Her father gave us a ton of gold; her mother gave us jewels.The rest of the tribe pitched in on a house, complete with swimming pools.They said,“Take care of our little girl—she’s about to moult, you see.”Oh, what’ll I do with my Shoshonu?And what’ll she do with me?So I’m sitting here with a drink in my hand, as worried as I can be.When a Shoshonu moults, she turns into a dragon, rough-el-ly.It’s our wedding night. She’s moulting now. And it makes them hung-ger-ry.Oh, what’ll I do with my Shoshonu?And what’ll—she—do—with—me? There isnt, Sabina said. At least not now.” Nor did it eat. That bothered Mose at first, for he was hospitable, but he told himself that a big, strong, strapping youngster like this one knew enough to take care of itself, and he probably didnt need to worry too much about how it got along. I find thecalculus of intelligenceto be a fascinating study. Here is the place for the application of all the knowledge I have acquired. In a sense its the problem I’ve been concerned with all my life. Senator Phil McGiverns face glowered at him. Kenebucks hands clenched suddenly on the glass. He stared at Ian, and then burst out into a laugh that rang a little wildly against the emptiness of the large room. Doug Roche thought for the last time of walking away. But there was nowhere to walk to. He shoved the note across the counter and opened his fist to show the little bottle containing a colorless liquid. It was only water, of course..
