Tricky jam scent
Today we reached the end of the universe. It was a big sign with red letters all lit up. No. Merely a passerby who happened to be in the company of Patrolman Maguire when the unfortunate incident occurred. As I review the records and data on Algernon, I see that although he is still in his physical infancy, he has regressed mentally. Motor activity is impaired; there is a general reduction of glandular activity; there is an accelerated loss of co-ordination. A galling possibility, if true. And still only a partial explanation. John paused, glowering, to run fingers through his beard and then fluff it again. The crone seemed innocent enough, yet now that I consider it, there was something... odd about her.” Food? She loved Chinese, a touchy subject in those days, but I went along. Yes? She sat beside me, and I lighted it for her. Bernard Wolfes approach to the Great Deception of the Carbon Copy lies clearly across the nebulous and shifting line that currently divides the possible from the distinctly improbable. His setting, treatment, and outcome all differ radically from Mr. Cantine’s. I cannot vouch for Mr. Wolfe’s experience with demons, imps, or well-dwellers in general, but his Mexican background should be authentic: his eminently readable biography of Leon Trotsky came out of the years he spent in Mexico as Trotsky’s secretary. He is also the author of the memorable s-f novel, Limbo.* * * * It puffed something at me and I lost my blaster, came the young fellows voice. I wondered if one of your girls could sleep at my house this week. Her voice was as slow as her steps. It was almost dawn by her radium-dialed wristwatch and she was thoroughly chilled, when she finally decided to switch off the stars. She did not want to do it—in their slow wheeling across the sky they were the last sign of orderly reality—but it seemed the only move she could make. Well, that covers just about the whole range of commerce, doesnt it? Except for credit. The prophecy is fulfilled, she said. My people are rejoicing. You have won, holy man. Now leave us quickly.” You know about medical inoculation, vaccination, she said. Under proper controls, it can be psychologically applied. A little virus, a little fever, and from there on, most people are immune. Some arent. With some, it goes into a full-stage disease. We don’t know which is which without test. We have to test. Those who can’t pass the test, Mr. MacPherson, are shipped back to Earth. This way we find out quickly, instead of letting some Typhoid Marys gradually infect a whole colony.” Sabina hated what she had to do and say next, but there was no way to prolong the necessity or to sugarcoat it. She went to sit next to her friend.Lets suppose, she said, “that Kamiko did read the letter and was upset by it. She could have confronted you, demanded or begged you to end the affair, but she didn’t.” "Why?" he asked. The smile had gone. My favourite button-badge saysReality is a Crutch. You will find much nonrealism about 'reality' in this book, and a good bit of 'realism' about 'unreality'; also much more about men, media, and the 'McLuhan Age', among other things. ... will be no limit to my operations now, Benson. This planet makes seventeen. Seventeen planets I can claim as my own! And one more thing (thats the other prerogative, no?)— We’re all going to have to slop saying scornfully, I mean good science fiction—not that Buck Rogers stuff! Leiber it writing the Buck Rogers comic strip now… .* * * *.
