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No Man onEarth was the first thing I ever wrote. [A novel, published last year—and a good one—j.m]The secondthing wasThe Survivor.* * * * progris riport 1—martch 5, 1965 Well, I agree it is not compulsory. But youll have to give a very good reason for refusing. And without a letter from a doctor or parent or guardian we may not accept your reasons. Madame Gioconda frowned at the note, then pierced it with the glowing end of her cigarette. A young man who doubled as bellhop and elevator operator took Candron up to the third floor. Candron tipped him generously, but not extravagantly, and then proceeded to unpack his suitcase. He hung the suits in the closet and put the shirts in the clothes chest. By the time he was through, it looked as though Ying Lee was prepared to stay for a considerable length of time. More than just knowledge of the affair. "Is that why you keep following me?" Trevnik mounted the curb. "Because youre afraid Ill go down with it? I'm not much use to you crushed, am I?" Shortly after Traven was strong enough to walk he had to be rescued from the blocks for a second time. Osborne became less conciliatory. "Possibly. But that doesnt necessarily mean we can remember it all. Recall is a complicated process. The theory in fashion today is the see-all-forget-nearly-all' theory. In this one, every bit of incoming sensation is recorded and filed away in your subconscious. But to bring it up again, you not only have to call for it, you also have to walk it out, holding it by the hand, chopping along with a mental machete to clear away all the subconscious blocks along its path. Persistence will turn up many a forgotten item in this way. But if it's quite old, there may be so many blocks that it will never be able to penetrate the conscious mind. In this case you have to get down there with it, in your far subconscious— take a good look at it, and then holler out to somebody what you see. Hypnosis is the accepted procedure. In the hands of an expert, all kinds of oddities can be turned up in this way: stimuli the subject barely had time to receive; or things, which, if recalled on a conscious level, would be intolerable." What is comparatively new is the application of the mathematical Theory of Games to interpersonal behavior, in an effort to achieve a greater rigor and clarity in analysis and description. Last yearsAnnual quoted some applications of the idea from an article by Timothy Leary in the book,LSD (Putnam, 1964), which were rather more sophisticated and far-reaching than anything offered by Dr. Berne. What Berne does provide Is a series of plot outlines of some of the most common and destructive behavior games, with catchy, colloquial titles (Kick Me, Let’s You and Him Fight, Rapo, etc.) to make them easier to think about and identify—and enable readers to enjoy the always popular mirror game. Who Am I? I keep thinking there must be some place for me somewhere. I keep thinking of some kind of gelatin land, some puddingly spot all viscous, muculent, where the air is thick and wet as water. I wouldnt even ask to be able to fly around in it. Id be happy just to ooze along the bottom as long as it was nothing like floors or mattresses or pillows. But the way it is around here you can get pretty bored with gravity. J. G. said he meant no disrespect but Why? For the first time since the skirmish which had begun the battle, the cameras were able to concentrate their sustained attention on one small area of the arena. The assassination squad moved slowly, torturously slow, through the brush and the deep grass which dotted the southwest sector. They had successfully infiltrated the Russian rear. For a moment the camera switched to the Russian sentry who had discovered the enemys presence and who was now reporting to his captain. Orders were given and in a very few minutes the light machine gun had been brought back from the lake and was in position to fire on the advancing American squad. Two Russian reserve squads were positioned to deliver a deadly crossfire on the patrol. To the men in the arena it must have been pitch dark. Even on camera there was an eerie, uneasy quality to the light that lent a ghostlike effect to the faces of the men whose fates had been determined by an unsuspected meeting with a Russian sentry. Death would have been exceedingly quick and profitless for the ten-man squad had not a Russian rifleman fired his rifle prematurely. As it was, the squad captain and six men were killed in the first furious burst of fire. The three survivors reacted instantly and disappeared into the brush. One died there noiselessly from a chest wound inflicted in the ambush. Another managed to kill two Russian infantrymen with hand grenades before he died. In the darkness the Russian captain became confused and sent word to his general that the entire squad had been destroyed. The general came to inspect the site and was instantly killed at short range by the lone surviving member of the assassination squad. By a series of fortuitous events the squad had accomplished its primary purpose. The Russian general was dead, and in less than two seconds so was the last man in the assassination squad. Are you crying? I said. After the chores he returned to the orchard—without the ax. Nan sent Josey to see what he was up to. Hes going to every tree on the place, Josey reported; “just looking at them and touching them. Not doing anything useful. And you know what? He eats grass and weeds.” Someone was in the brightness, several someones. They were leaning out of the squareness, beckoning and calling—silver signals and silver sounds. Sabina was about to rise when something nearby that glinted in the lamplight caught her eye. A small, sharp-pointed piece of metal perhaps three-quarters of an inch long— the tip of a knife or dagger blade, she judged, an old one from the look of the metal. Very old. It was age stained, but it bore no trace of blood. She wrapped it in her handkerchief, taking and holding a deep breath as she did so, then quickly stood, switched off the lamp shed lit, and madeher exit. He smelled like liquor. But sometimes its cough syrup and hedid have a cough. A hack, now and then, like a comment on whatever dreary thoughts such a man must have..
