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Hopeful, because (with the loss of the bright-lining thought that the too terrible weaponhad actually been discovered) the approach is now more analytical than agit-prop, more sociological than polemic; concerned with the motives and mores of war, and with the psychological and cultural causes and effects. Whydo wedo this thing? And what does it do to us? The men gathered in Gunpowder Alley numbered seven or eight, drawn from nearby houses and the corner watering hole. The man in the cape and high hat was still among them. The parlor of the house next door, Quincannon noted, was now dark and the white-haired occupant had come out to stand, shawl draped and leaning on a cane, on the small front porch. But at 50,000 dollars each they also represented a terrifying hazard to the clumsy sound-sweep. Only two years earlier the entire north transept of Rheims Cathedral, rose window intact, purchased for a record 1,000,000 dollars and reerected in the new Cathedral of St. Joseph at San Diego, had been drained of its priceless heritage of tonal inlays by a squad of illiterate sound-sweeps who had misread their instructions and accidentally swept the wrong wall. About the same time, James Ballard wrote me the first of several angry letters of praise for William Burroughs. During the year, I had occasion to review Burroughs strange, brilliant surreal-science-fantastic Nova Express, and found myself impressed and fascinated by a book whose confusing (and perhaps pretentious) style might otherwise have prevented me from reading it at all. Meanwhile, Short Story International had begun demonstrating, with reprints, that the magazines I had thought of as anti-story were not necessarily to be so considered. If it did it to me, its not surprising it did it to Ratlit and the rest. When I emerge from the underbrush and come in sight of the outcroppings of rock where the springs are, I can see Sato, our nearest neighbor and my oldest friend, making his way along the path from his valley on the other side of the mountain. I wave at him, but he does not wave back. I tell myself that he is concentrating on his feet and simply does not see me, but myself answers back in much harsher terms. Sato knows what happened when I took my older son to the City, and he knows why my son has not spoken more than a dozen coherent words since returning. He knows what I have done, and while it is not in the mans nature to rebuke another or set himself above another or mouth moral platitudes, there are limits. Candron put five ten-yuan notes on the counter. Since the readjustment of the Chinese monetary system, the yuan had regained a great deal of its value. You wont have to. Of course, you have heard of resonant frequencies and related topics. Take two tuning forks that vibrate at the same rate. Set one in vibration, and the other across the room will vibrate. Soldiers marching across a bridge break step, lest they start the bridge in vibration and bring it down. The right note on a violin will shatter a glass. Who knows whether minute electrical currents in a particular area of the brain, associated with a certain characteristic mental activity, may not tend to induce a similar activity in the corresponding section of another brain? And, in that case, if it were possible to induce a sufficientlystrong current, it might actually overload that particular— Remmeroy ran around the table and came slowly toward Penrose and the android.The sea is calm tonight,The tide is full, the moon lies fair. Fritz Leiber is the original S-F man. By which I mean any number of things, beginning with his beginning in the field a good thirty years ago (which would make him Senior Writer for the volume if it were not for Alfred Jarry antedatingeverybody.) Nor is it simply seniority, but also scope. Leiber began as a Lovecraft disciple, went from fantasy forUnknown, to s-f forAstounding, and then to popular-science writing and editing. In Leibers case, S is not just for Science, or Satire, or Speculation, though they are all there, but for Snakes as well as Spiders (the Time-Change stories), and for Shakespeare (Four Ghosts in Hamlet in last year’s FSSF), and Sword-and-Sorcery. (F, of course, is for Fafhrd and the Mouser.) And this year he has expanded hisrange a bit more, by writing the first authorized post-Burroughs Tarzan book(Tarzan and the Valley of Gold, Ballantine, 1966). I didnt like the way he moved. I had seen men who moved like that before. J. G. said he would remember. It was wonderful. All of Ildys marriages were. There was the wonderful floodlighted scenery. The recirculated water of the famous falls was tinted gold; the immediate rocks had been done by Rambles; and the hills had been contoured by Spall. The beach was a perfect copy of that at Merevale, and the popular drink that first part of the night was blue absinthe. Bob Shaw is not-quite-British: a North Irish journalist— columnist and science correspondent for The Belfast Telegraph—and author of perhaps a dozen short stories and one novel, Night Walk(Banner, 1966). Although his first fiction sale in 1953 was to the New York Post,he was almost unknown in the U.S. until Light of Other Days appeared in Analog,and was promptly selected for inclusion in both The World's Best Science Fiction: 1967 (Ace)and Nebula Award Stories Two(Doubleday)— as well as being a (very close) runner-up for both the Hugo and Nebula awards in 1966. Now Mr. Whitehill, an engineer as well as an author (The Angers of Spring, and “Able, Baker, and Others”) offers a description with lab-report conciseness, accuracy, and attention to detail.* * * * Oh, he said again. "Thats right," I said, back-paddling frantically to avoid a hippopotamus that threatened to upset my kayak. "Id forgotten they'd just come in." In the corner there were some coarse burlap bags, left over from last years flood season when he had prepared sandbags to build up the banks of the nearby stream. His seven thousand pennies almost filled one bag, which he hid under some odds and ends of lumber..
