By Anthony Boucher
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Extra info for A Treasury of Great Science Fiction, Vol. Two
Only what can I do? I don’t understand human psychology any more, it’s changing too much and too fast. Nobody does. ” Lewis’ heavy body moved forward. “Come on. ” They went down the corridor, leaving Johansson and Grunewald immersed in their work: measuring the changed constants of nature, recalibrating instruments, performing all the enormous basic labor of science again from the ground up. Throughout the building the other departments mapped out the altered faces of their own disciplines. Cybernetics, chemistry, biology, above all psychology—men grudged the time for sleep, there was so much to do.
Your scrip don’t mean a thing. ” “Nothing, now,” said Mandelbaum candidly. “But believe me, it’s not our fault. The people here want to work. We just haven’t got things organized enough yet. Once we do, our scrip will mean things like clothes and machinery for you. ” “All that was said at the association meeting,” replied Gantry. ” “Look, Mr. Gantry, we do want to co-operate. We want it so much that we’re prepared to offer a representative of your people a seat on the city council. ” “Hmmm—” Gantry’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.
The red head shook. ” “Are you crazy? ” “I’m not! ” Joe growled. “Don’t,” said Brock. He felt, suddenly, nothing but an immense weariness. “You go if you want to, but leave me. ” “Well———” “I’ll herd some of the stock over to Martinson’s tomorrow, if he’ll take ‘em. ” Voss argued for a while longer, then gave up and took the jeep and drove away. Brock smiled without quite knowing why he did. He checked the bull’s pen. The gate had been broken down by a determined push. Half the power of fences had always lain in the fact that animals didn’t know enough to keep shoving at them.