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There are only a dozen want it in A dormitory, out of thirty. The rest think the Starman is crazy and they lie in their beds grinning at us while we work. givenchy body smoothers pantyhose hosiery Complex defamation. With Contact, that problem was solved. Dying became like a change of vehicle. You blurred, maybe blacked out, knowing you would come to, as it were, looking out of somebodys eyes that you had Contact with. You wouldn’t be in control any more, but he or she would have your memories, and for two or three months you’d ease around, fitting yourself to your new partner and then bit by bit there’d be a shift of viewpoint, and finally a melting together, andclick. No interruption; just a smooth painless process taking you on into another instalment of life as someone who was neither you nor someone else, but a product of the two. The gods chided me that night. I hardly recognized them. They were fatter, more confident, ready for deliverance. I warned them about premature optimism, but they laughed anyhow. "No other word seems to describe the phenomenon. Chemically speaking, in the sense of detectable air-borne molecules dissolving in the olfactory mucosa, the presence of odour is indeed arguable. On the other hand, in the strictly neuro-psychic sense, that an odour response has been received in the cerebrum, there can be no real doubt. The phenomenon has been reported and corroborated by entire groups. The 'odour of sanctity' of certain saints and mystics seems to fall in this category. Thomas Aquinas radiated the scent of male frankincense. Saint John of the Cross had a strong odour of lilies. When the tomb of Saint Theresa of Avila— the 'great' Theresa — was opened in 1583, the scent of violets gushed out. And more recently, the odour of roses has been associated with Saint Theresa of Lisieux — the 'little' Theresa." He looked at Patrick. "I think — everyone is ready." Slowly, the procession marched past the bier of the Dead One, who was nameless because he was dead, and who had been their leader. Each one, as he came to the bier, crouched low in obeisance, then moved on. The shaman stood over the bier, his pelt stained green to signify that he personified the Dead One. He acknowledged each obeisance by raising his arms. There is a time-honored tradition that the doctor may bury his mistakes without recrimination, but must never advertise his successes. "No. It does something bad to me." In81, Chien had realized the importance of his work, having carried it further. He had reported his findings to the proper authorities of the United States Government, and had convinced that particular branch of the government that his work had useful validity. But it was too late to cover up the hints that he had already published. They turned again to see themselves, wondering dumbly at what they had seen stretching out infinitely along the wall, all the clasping lovers long gone, no kiss nor handhold there with either bliss or agony. In any field of new knowledge, on all frontiers, concrete or physical, the fools must first rush out to see what the accepted angels of the day do not credit even enough to fear. The quixotic ass may be aSomnium or a glider at Kitty Hawk, a “Rights of Man,” a burning bush, a dream of passage to India, a Unified Field of Theory, or a story of space. Whatever its form, it must take shape first in the imagination of some, somehow, less fettered mind, and pass, through the speculations of philosophers, onto the lathe of logic; if it turns true (however slowly or swiftly), it has become Accepted Theory. Hewas here, Vandervell corrected. He wont be here any longer. I was with Springman in Acapulco when he looked at the map. He came here.” General, Im sure our audience already knows this, but just so there will be no misunderstanding, it’s not possible for either side to communicate to their people in the arena now. Is that right? Coming-of-Age Day—particularly since it found print as a first story by an unknown—is evidence enough of what has happened in the few years since. (It is true that the British magazines—like British radio—have abandoned Puritan restraints more eagerly than the American; but for exhibit B, try William Tenns The Masculinist Revolt,” or Willard Marsh’s “The Sin of Edna Schuster,” both fromF&SF.) As for the science-fiction love story, there never was any question about it—not since del Rey’s “Helen O’Loy” (1938); nor, for a moment, while Sturgeon was writing; and not with stories like Zelazny’s “A Rose for Ecclesiastes”(9th Annual), or Leo P. Kelley’s “O’Grady’s Girl,” inF&SF last year. There was in fact a California State Woman Suffrage Convention held in San Francisco in November of 1896. Its delegates wore badges such as the one described here, and the campaign was in fact headed by Susan B. Anthony. Unfortunately, her tireless efforts and those of dedicated proponents such as Sabina and Amity Wellman were in vain. The proposed amendment to the state constitution giving women the right to vote was soundly defeated, owing in large part to the powerful Liquor Dealers League and the considerable clout the organization wielded with both Democratic and Republican politicians. It was not until 1911, thanks to a new, more widespread, more determined suffragist movement risen phoenix-like from the ashes of the 1906 earthquake, that California women were finally granted voting rights. A quarter. Twenty-five cents. Im just calling your attention to the second of two rather unusual occurrences in as many days, replied the razor. Listening. You think its easy when you mumble? (The three scientists: Philip Abelson, editor of Science; Fred Hoyle, cosmologist; James V. McConnell, comparative psychologist.) . . . Life to Campbell is a gigantic experiment in form, and earth the forcing-house—animpeccable vision, but one not warmed (in his theories, that is) by a feeling for the pain or personal potential of the individuals in the experiment. That kind of gentleness inexpression seemed to disappear with Don A. Stuart..
