Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 90 of 132
Astounding Science Fiction (British edition) — page 90: what you’re looking at
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88 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION ference. You have the language. A fair trade.” Ted shrugged. “Perhaps. And what about these poor devils? The islanders? What have they got?” 7A) 4 Meer ibe Beene Meat ablarigh 2 sme 14 4 4 ad Witenes f. AWT\ * \ig ’ a Re : ; : a & = . Ls mre . 5 s* ‘ r' rd a iw eSgry..\ Eren Tu looked for a long moment in the direction of the village. ““That is being debated by my superiors. There are some who hold we should wipe out all memory of our visits. Others want them taken from the island and admitted as special wards to our society. Word of their-decision should reach me-any hour now. An important happening was predicted for tonight, and I don’t believe your coming was meant.” “Predicted?” “Yes, Ted Jepson. I spoke of your race’s extrasensory abilities. Appar- ently certain areas of the islander’s brains were activated by the proper semantic processes. That has hap- pened in nonhuman specie. All manner of mental talents have been demonstrated when the thinking has been properly changed. You realize,” his tones became self-deprecating, “I’m speaking as a layman. That isn’t my field. At any rate, after warning me that the technician who taught them to swim was coming up—”’ Something extremely ironic dawned on Ted. “They know of the project?’ “Certainly. They've always known of it.” Ted’s laboring mind turned up a wry memory; a scrap of joke about the researcher who bent down to peer in at his laboratory ape, only to find an inquisitive brown eye at the other side of the peephole. “‘Go on,” he said wearily. “They look only so far into the future. The distance seems to depend not only on the individual but on the nature of the event. It varies—a few hours, at the most. Beyond that they say the pictures are blurred and often — inaccurate, colored, I suppose, with imagination.” Eren Tu broke off, ap- peared to be listening intently. Then he sprang to his feet and peered down the grassy slope into the darkness. connicloooks.c© inn