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Why are you crying? I said. from Fantasy and Science Fiction Two-seventy-two. Early next morning they arrived at the ramparts of the town Crotheria where Dandi lived. The ubiquitous goats thronged about them, some no bigger than hedgehogs, some almost as big as hippos—what madness in his last days provoked man to so many variations on one undistinguished caprine theme?—as Lass and her mistress moved up the last slope and under the archway. Yes, Mike, Carlos answered. Yes, were coming.” Scratch-scratch, scratch-scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch it went, each time a little louder. The LondonTimes, Joe answered,is not prone to sensational journalism. And giant squids exist, though the biggestwe know about are feeble, flabby beasts and dont weigh more than a ton, even when they have arms forty feet long.” A forest which had been opened to the workers and peasants became military territory. Later they crawled into Jays sleeping bag. The performance sank to a muted close. There was a brief, solemn silence, and then the creature began to make music of its own, single-voiced and softly at first, but swelling gradually to a richly textured fortissimo; jagged, dissonant sounds that caused the hairs at the nape of Dr. Williams neck to lift ecstatically and his foot to match its insistent pulse. He ignored it. The ribbon glow was darkest red—the skeleton of our ship still aglow. The ribbon flashed green in the middle— a tiny venomous dagger—and then a huge pale green firefly winked where Pete lay. Hed saved me a fourth time. Working too hard? Alto pressed. He scrutinized Mangon suspiciously. Are you still sitting up all night with that Gioconda woman?” Corpses never act straightforwardly but are always sly and devious. The male corpse took Yechidas hand and bent his head toward the instrument. This was not the first time a male corpse had touched Yechida but contact with this one made her limbs tremble. He stared intently but could not decide immediately. Then he said: I think it’s ten minutes after ten. Gott had dropped his Plutarch and come lurching blindly across the room, and as he uttered the lastNow! the darkness cleared, and he caught Heinie up from his spacechair and staggered with him against Jane and steadied himself there without upsetting her paints, and she accused him laughingly "You beefed up the martini water again," and Heinie pulled off his helmet and crowed, "Make a big hug," and they clung to each other and looked down at the half-coloured picture where a childrens clubhouse sat in a tree over a deep ravine and blob children swung out from it against the cool pearly moon and the winding roads in space and the next to the last child hooked onto his swing with one hand and with the other caught the last child of all, while from the pictures lower left-hand corner a fat, black fly looked on enviously. Susan crossed to the mirror, flicked her corn-colored hair more or less into place, picked up her satchel again and headed for 5Q formroom, deserted now and dark. She turned on one light and packed her books for evening study, checking the subjects against the timetable pinned inside the desk lid. Then she walked back down the corridor toward the stairs. Later he slept. How long, he did not know. He only knew that when he awoke he heard a sound of air parting followed by a hard, thundering impact that shook the ground. His first instinct was to action, and then he remembered that there was nothing he could do, so he hunched down as far as possible in his foxhole and waited. He knew real fear now—the kind of fear that no amount of training or conditioning can eliminate. He was a living thing whose dominant instinct was to continue living. He did not want to die hunched down in a hole in the ground. The flesh along his spine quivered involuntarily with each fractional warning whoosh whichpreceded the mortars fall. Now he knew that he could die, knew it with his body as well as with his mind. A shell landed nearby, and he heard a shrill, womanlike scream. Bill Smith had been hit. His first reaction was one of relief. It had been Bill Smith and not he. But why did he have to scream? Bill Smith had been one of the toughest men in the squad. There ought to be more dignity than that. There ought to be a better way of dying than lying helpless in a hole and waiting for chance or fate in the form of some unseen, impersonal gunner, who probably was firing an assigned pattern anyhow, to bring you life or death. Casey began to stand, but the professor raised a hand.Wait a moment, he said. “Id like to ask you a few questions.” The same. You want to take a chance on it? Muller challenged..
