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the future it must be shared, left to others.
Maybe so, the Explorer said slowly. Yes, I guess you re right. But I still
feel a horrible wistfulness about them, and I hug to myself the hope that a
few of them escaped and set up a colony on some planet we haven t yet
visited. There was a long silence. Then the Explorer turned back. You old
devil, he said in a manner that showed his gayer and more boisterous mood had
returned, though diminished, you still haven t told me anything definite
about them.
So I haven t, replied the Archeologist with guileful innocence. Well, they
were vertebrates.
Oh?
Yes. What s more, they were mammals.
MAMMALS? I was expecting something different.
Page 4
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
I thought you were.
The Explorer shifted. All this matter of evolutionary categories is pretty
cut-and-dried. Even a knowledge of how they looked doesn t mean much. I d like
to approach them in a more intimate way.
How did they think of themselves? What did they call themselves? I know the
word won t mean anything to me, but it will give me a feeling of recognition.
I can t say the word, the Archeologist told him, because I haven t the
proper vocal equipment. But
I know enough of their script to be able to write it for you as they would
have written it. Incidentally, it is one of those words common to all their
languages, that they attributed to an earlier race of beings.
The Archeologist extended one of his eight tentacles toward the blackboard.
The suckers at its tip firmly grasped a bit of orange crayon. Another of his
tentacles took up the spectacles and adjusted them over his three-inch
protruding pupils.
The eel-like glittering pet drifted back into the room and nosed curiously
about the crayon as it traced:
RAT
The End.
Notes and proofing history
AK #27
Scanned with preliminary proofing by A/NN\A
November 14th, 2007 v1.0
from the original source:
Galaxy
October, 1950
This story has been reprinted many times and was selected for inclusion in
Best SF 5-1963, Edmund
Crispin, ed.
Page 5 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
the future it must be shared, left to others.
Maybe so, the Explorer said slowly. Yes, I guess you re right. But I still
feel a horrible wistfulness about them, and I hug to myself the hope that a
few of them escaped and set up a colony on some planet we haven t yet
visited. There was a long silence. Then the Explorer turned back. You old
devil, he said in a manner that showed his gayer and more boisterous mood had
returned, though diminished, you still haven t told me anything definite
about them.
So I haven t, replied the Archeologist with guileful innocence. Well, they
were vertebrates.
Oh?
Yes. What s more, they were mammals.
MAMMALS? I was expecting something different.
Page 4
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
I thought you were.
The Explorer shifted. All this matter of evolutionary categories is pretty
cut-and-dried. Even a knowledge of how they looked doesn t mean much. I d like
to approach them in a more intimate way.
How did they think of themselves? What did they call themselves? I know the
word won t mean anything to me, but it will give me a feeling of recognition.
I can t say the word, the Archeologist told him, because I haven t the
proper vocal equipment. But
I know enough of their script to be able to write it for you as they would
have written it. Incidentally, it is one of those words common to all their
languages, that they attributed to an earlier race of beings.
The Archeologist extended one of his eight tentacles toward the blackboard.
The suckers at its tip firmly grasped a bit of orange crayon. Another of his
tentacles took up the spectacles and adjusted them over his three-inch
protruding pupils.
The eel-like glittering pet drifted back into the room and nosed curiously
about the crayon as it traced:
RAT
The End.
Notes and proofing history
AK #27
Scanned with preliminary proofing by A/NN\A
November 14th, 2007 v1.0
from the original source:
Galaxy
October, 1950
This story has been reprinted many times and was selected for inclusion in
Best SF 5-1963, Edmund
Crispin, ed.
Page 5 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]