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Mangon danced over to her, seized her shoulders and squeezed them tightly. He suddenly realized that he knew no diminutive or Christian name for her. Indefinite Divisibility. At the beginning, when they had met in the deserted planetarium among the dunes, he had seized on Karen Novotnys presence. All day he had been wandering among the sand-hills, trying to escape the apartment houses which rose in the distance above the dissolving crests. The opposing slopes, inclined at all angles to the sun like an immense Hindu yantra, were marked with the muffled ciphers left by his sliding feet. On the concrete terrace outside the planetarium the young woman in the white dress watched him approach with maternal eyes. History reading, Camiroi and galactic, technological. "Thats right." "As much as I do," said Jon, pouring out the potheen. The white, cloudy stuff filled the tumblers to the brim. Jon must be worried to pour such heavy ones for nothing. It could make no sense of it. Were the men-things mad? Had it not given them what they desired most? Had it not even worked upon thefood and “water” for them, so that every item they possessed would be vastly improved? And they gazed out of the windows of the cab with no great interest and they chewed their gum as if they tasted in it the mild, approaching flavor of the quiet weekend at home. Klaus? This is Mikhail. Can you come over at once? Its very urgent, and I can’t talk on the phone. Over the last two years, certain patterns began to appear in what I did know about the backgrounds and special interests of the new names. (Comparatively few werenew young writers in the usual sense; a good many were journalists, teachers, and writers already established in other fields.) It occurred to me that the motivations and objectives of writers newly attracted to the field might offer some insights into the overall direction and form of (what used to be “science fiction” and is now) whatever it is to which we apply the loose label S-F. Mangon listened to her numbly, hands gripping the barrell of the sonovac. The voice exploded in his brain, flooding every nexus of cells with its violence. It was grotesque, an insane parody of a classical soprano. Harmony, purity, cadence had gone. Rough and cracked, it jerked sharply from one high note to a lower, its breath intervals uncontrolled, sudden precipices of gasping silence which plunged through the volcanic torrent, dividing it into a loosely connected sequence of bravura passages. (Alan Watts selection in LSD was the source for #8.)* * * * Although I had captured the loveliness of Monascus purpureas on canvas, and my shaggymanes in tempera— guarded against decay by infusions of deoxyribonucleic acid, DNA, without which life cannot exist — had been purchased by the Museum of Modern Art in New York for their files. Im skared. Lots of people who work here and the nurses and the people who gave me the tests came to bring me candy and wish me luck. I hope I have luck. I got my rabits foot and my lucky penny and my horse shoe. Only a black cat crossed me when I was comming to the hospitil. Dr Strauss says dont be supersitis Charlie this is sience. Anyway Im keeping my rabits foot with me. "And?" Does this sound like science fiction? Ten seconds from now will the Martian spider-kings invade, capture the Ear, and disintegrate the mad scientists who built it? Back again? I pressed my check to the floor again. Well, I dont see anything. Only dark and suitcases.” "Sometimes," I said evenly, "if you leave them alone and forget about them, you end up with monsters who arent kids any more. If youd been left alone, you wouldn't have had a chance to put your two cents in in the first place, and you wouldn't have that thing around your neck." And he was really trying to follow what I was saying. A moment past his rage, his face was as open and receptive as a two-year-old's. God, I want to stop thinking about Antoni!.
