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Maelzel question they may figure I m better rubbed out?
The older man shook his head. I m not afraid for your life, Willard. That s yours to risk as you choose.
No, I m worried about other things they might do to you.
What do you mean? Farquar asked.
Opperly looked at him with a gentle appraisal. You re a strong and vital man, Willard, with a strong
man s prides and desires. His voice trailed off for a bit. Then, Excuse me, Willard, but wasn t there a
girl once? A Miss Arkady
Farquar s ungainly figure froze. He nodded curtly, face averted.
And didn t she go off with a Thinker?
If girls find me ugly, that s their business, Farquar said harshly, still not looking at Opperly. What s
that got to do with this invitation?
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Opperly didn t answer the question. His eyes got more distant. Finally he said, In my day we had it a
lot easier. A scientist was an academician, cushioned by tradition.
Willard snorted. Science had already entered the era of the police inspectors, with laboratory directors
and political appointees stifling enterprise.
Perhaps, Opperly agreed. Still, the scientist lived the safe, restricted, highly respectable life of a
university man. He wasn t exposed to the temptations of the world.
Farquar turned on him. Are you implying that the Thinkers will somehow be able to buy me off?
Not exactly.
You think I ll be persuaded to change my amis? Farquar demanded angrily.
Opperly shrugged his helplessness. No, I don t think you ll change your aims.
Clouds encroaching from the west blotted the parallelogram of sunlight between the two men.
As the slideway whisked him gently along the corridor toward his apartment Jorj Helmuth was thinking
of his spaceship. For a moment the silver-winged vision crowded everything else out of his mind.
Just think, a spaceship with sails! He smiled a bit, marveling at the paradox.
Direct atomic power. Direct utilization of the force of the flying neutrons. No more ridiculous business
of using a reactor to drive a steam engine, or boil off something for a jet exhaust processes that were as
primitive and wasteful as burning gunpowder to keep yourself warm.
Chemical jets would carry his spaceship above the atmosphere. Then would come the thrilling order,
Set sail for Mars! The vast umbrella would unfold and open out around the stern, its rear or earthward
side a gleaming expanse of radioactive ribbon perhaps only an atom thick and backed with a material
that would reflect neutrons. Atoms in the ribbon would split, blasting neutrons astern at fantastic
velocities. Reaction would send the spaceship hurtling forward.
In airless space, the expanse of sails would naturally not retard the ship. More radioactive ribbon,
manufactured as needed in the ship itself, would feed out onto the sail as that already there became
exhausted.
A spaceship with direct nuclear drive and he, a Thinker, had conceived it completely except for the
technical details! Having strengthened his mind by hard years of somno-learning, mind-casting, memory-
straightening, and sensory training, he had assured himself of the executive power to control the
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technicians and direct their specialized abilities. Together they would build the true Mars rocket.
But that would only be a beginning. They would build the true Mind Bomb. They would build the true
Selective Microbe Slayer. They would discover the true laws of ESP and the inner life. They would even
his imagination hesitated a moment, then strode boldly forward build the true Maizie!
And then then the Thinkers would be on even terms with the scientists. Rather, they d be far ahead. No
more deception.
He was so exalted by this thought that he almost let the slideway carry him past his door. He stepped
inside and called, Caddy! He waited a moment, then walked through the apartment, but she wasn t
there.
Confound the girl! he couldn t help thinking. This morning, when she should have made herself scarce,
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