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These begin with the oldest of all paradoxes of thiotimoline—the paradox of fooling. In other words, the chance of having thiotimoline dissolve and then being fooled by a refusal to add the water. The original argument against such a notion, as elucidated in my laboratory, involved the theory of the endochronic atom—which has since been confirmed by half a dozen other investigators. One pair of the bonds of one or more of the carbon atoms in the thiotimoline molecule are forced, through supersteric hindrance, to appoint in the temporal plane. One bond extends 1.12 seconds into the past and one extends 1.12 seconds into the future. When the future end of a thiotimoline molecule dissolves and drags the rest of the molecule with it, it is therefore not predicting a possible future event. It is recording an actual future event. Jane held her pencil poised over the detached children swinging out from the Clubhouse. One of them had a leg kicked over the moon. Why dont you have another talk with her? The Old Man glared at him again and started to leave. Then he turned and scratched his head.God amighty, he said. “A talkin ape.” Home calls went by the board. There simply were not hours enough in the day to make them, and the doctors hospital admissions dropped sharply as fewer and fewer of his patients seemed to require hospitalization. Soon Dr. Olie began hearing remarks and complaints from his once-friendly medical colleagues as the traffic jams outside his office increased in frequency. Mr. Klevity isnt here, I said. He hasn’t got back.” John Updike I see, I said, seeing nothing. We will kill, kill, kill—but in all it will be less than a hundred people. It will not be thousands and millions of people. It will only beyour closest friends,your relatives,your children and finallyyou. At the end, Senator, you will have some idea of the meaning of war. Reese shook his head.This is hard to believe, he confessed. “Did he say why he showed you these things?” Just that. Attempted murder is what it was, of both myself and, I suspect, Noah Rideout. Youre right. That sounds like a good idea. And Double : Bill. Those of you who saw the Ninth Annual will recall my discussion at some length of the survey conducted for this fan publication by Lloyd Biggie. I based my comments, and the list of participants, on two installments of the survey—and discovered too late that there was a third I had not yet received. There is little to add to the conclusions, but I should like to include now the names of the remainder of participating authors: Charles Beaumont, James Blish, Anthony Boucher, Leigh Brackett, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Reginald Bretnor, Terry Carr, Arthur C. Clarke, Hal Clement, Avram Davidson, Lester Del Rey, August Derleth, Horace Gold, Edmond Hamilton, Joe Hensley, Robert W. Lowndes, Richard Lupoff, Mack Reynolds, Eric Frank Russell, James H. Schmitz, Robert Silverberg, E. E. Doc Smith, George 0. Smith, William Temple, Theodore Thomas, Ted White, Kate Wilhelm, Jack Williamson and Robert F. Young. Ill give her breakfast, said Mrs. Klevity. And lunch money for each night she comes.” Leaving the assorted statues behind, he limped his way up the knoll, torn between leaving and staying. What an odd place, this ocean country! He wondered why he had not heard more detail about the beach animals. They got the knives, and I plunged into the baloney skin with the butchers knife and maneuvered around in there until I had two cylinders of sausage cut out, each about six inches long and an inch or more in diameter. I proceeded to sculpt them to look like Geryl as nearly as I could, long sausage nose, long dish-pan-hands face, and little short shaggy-bob hair fixedon. Little Sister and Little Brother watched all the time with interest, exchanging nervous glances with each other now and again and trembling violently once in awhile. My training talks with them were always a little tense, and I could tell they lost weight at such times, but I couldn’t help that. A lone parent has the whole load of the training obligation toward his children on his hands.* * * * Quincannon waved that away. No man went to the Gaiety Theater by happenstance; intention and inclination took them there. A less than respectablepalace of art, the Gaiety specialized in raucous musical revues and bawdy melodramas — the sort of place that catered to middle-aged men such as Titus Wrixton and Raymond Sonderberg whose tastes ran to the sordidly erotic. The shed was astonishingly neat. The boy had rigged up droplights. There was a pale blue pegboard wall hung with shining tools. On closer inspection I could see that rust was beginning to fleck the tools. On the workbench were technical journals and hot-rodder magazines. I looked at the improvised engine hoist, at the neat shelves of paint and lubricant. The first few miles of my hike, everything looked about the same as it always had, but once I reached the center of the village, I realized that the violence against us had not been an isolated phenomenon. Most of the houses were scarred by gunfire, several had been burned to the ground, and there were no people around at all. After a moment, when it was clear that none of the three would move, Ian stepped forward. He passed through them without even brushing against one of them, to the inner door opposite, and opened it and went on through..
