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Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche FIRST PART. ZARATHUSTRA'S DISCOURSES. ZARATHUSTRA'S PROLOGUE. 1. When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and solitude, and ...

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THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

By Arthur Conan Doyle ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA I. To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole ...

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White Fang

by Jack London PART I CHAPTER I—THE TRAIL OF THE MEAT Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they ...

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A Christmas Carol

by Charles Dickens STAVE ONE MARLEY'S GHOST Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. ...

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Utopia

by Saint Thomas More INTRODUCTION Sir Thomas More, son of Sir John More, a justice of the King’s Bench, was born in 1478, in Milk Street, in the city of London. After his earlier education at St. ...

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The Adventure of the Dying Detective

by Arthur Conan Doyle Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering woman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable ...

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THE REPUBLIC

By Plato INTRODUCTION AND ANALYSIS. The Republic of Plato is the longest of his works with the exception of the Laws, and is certainly the greatest of them. There are nearer approaches to modern metaphysics in the ...

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My Life and Work

by Henry Ford INTRODUCTION WHAT IS THE IDEA? We have only started on our development of our country—we have not as yet, with all our talk of wonderful progress, done more than scratch the surface. The progress has ...

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The Tragedy of King Lear

by William Shakespeare Scene: - Britain. ACT I. Scene I. [King Lear's Palace.] Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund. [Kent and Glouceste converse. Edmund stands back.] Kent. I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall. Glou. It ...

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The Pickwick Papers

by Charles Dickens THE POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB CHAPTER I. THE PICKWICKIANS The first ray of light which illumines the gloom, and converts into a dazzling brilliancy that obscurity in which the earlier history of the ...

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The Mysterious Affair at Styles

by Agatha Christie   CHAPTER I. I GO TO STYLES The intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as "The Styles Case" has now somewhat subsided. Nevertheless, in view of the world-wide ...

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Travels and adventures in South and Central America

by Ramón Páez INTRODUCTION. “Know’st thou the land where the citron grows, Where midst its dark foliage the golden orange glows? Thither, thither let us go.” Goethe. To Young America: “Smart,” as the world over, you are acknowledged to be—in which opinion ...

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TREASURE ISLAND

by Robert Louis Stevenson The Old Sea-dog at the "Admiral Benbow" QUIRE TRELAWNEY, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to ...

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A Modest Proposal

by Jonathan Swift It is a melancholy object to those, who walk through this great town, or travel in the country, when they see the streets, the roads and cabbin-doors crowded with beggars of the female ...

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David Copperfield

By Charles Dickens CHAPTER 1. I AM BORN Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. To begin ...

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Grimm's Fairy Stories

Author: Grimm, Jacob, 1785-1863 Author: Grimm, Wilhelm, 1786-1859 Contents: The goose-girl -- The little brother and sister -- Hansel and Grethel -- Oh, if I could but shiver! -- Dummling and the three feathers -- Little Snow ...

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OLIVER TWIST

by Charles Dickens CHAPTER I TREATS OF THE PLACE WHERE OLIVER TWIST WAS BORN AND OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING HIS BIRTH Among other public buildings in a certain town, which for many reasons it will be prudent to refrain ...

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SIDDHARTHA

by Hermann Hesse FIRST PART THE SON OF THE BRAHMAN In the shade of the house, in the sunshine of the riverbank near the boats, in the shade of the Sal-wood forest, in the shade of the fig ...

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The Brothers Karamazov

By Fyodor Dostoyevsky Part I Book I. The History Of A Family Chapter I. Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov Alexey Fyodorovitch Karamazov was the third son of Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov, a land owner well known in our district in his own ...

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Three Years in Tibet

by Ekai Kawaguchi PREFACE I was lately reading the Holy Text of the Saḍḍharma-Puṇdarīka (the Aphorisms of the White Lotus of the Wonderful or True Law) in a Samskṛṭ manuscript under a Boḍhi-tree near Mṛga-Ḍāva (Sāranāṭh), Benares. ...

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Slave Planet

by Laurence M. Janifer

PART ONE
1

“I would not repeat myself if it were not for the urgency of this matter.” Dr. Haenlingen’s voice hardly echoed in the square small room. She stood staring out at the forests below, the coiling gray-green trees, the plants and rough growth. A small woman whose carriage was always, publicly, stiff and erect, whose iron-gray eyes seemed as solid as ice, she might years before have trained her voice to sound improbably flat and formal. Now the formality was dissolving in anger. “As you know, the mass of citizens throughout the Confederation are a potential source of explosive difficulty, and our only safety against such an explosion lies in complete and continuing silence.” Abruptly, she turned away from the window. “Have you got that, Norma?”

Norma Fredericks nodded, her trace poised over the waiting pad. “Yes, Dr. Haenlingen. Of course.”

Dr. Haenlingen’s laugh was a dry rustle. “Good Lord, girl,” she said. “Are you afraid of me, too?”

Norma shook her head instantly, then stopped and almost smiled. “I suppose I am, Doctor,” she said. “I don’t quite know why—”

“Authority figure, parent-surrogate, phi factor—there’s no mystery about the why, Norma. If you’re content with jargon, and we know all the jargon, don’t we?” Now instead of a laugh it was a smile, surprisingly warm but very brief. “We ought to, after all; we ladle it out often enough.”

Norma said: “There’s certainly no real reason for fear. I don’t want you to think—”

“I don’t think,” Dr. Haenlingen said. “I never think. I reason when I must, react when I can.” She paused. “Sometimes, Norma, it strikes me that the Psychological Division hasn’t really kept track of its own occupational syndromes.”

“Yes?” Norma waited, a study in polite attention. The trace fell slowly in her hand to the pad on her knees and rested there.

“I ask you if you’re afraid of me and I get the beginnings of a self-analysis,” Dr. Haenlingen said. She walked three steps to the desk and sat down behind it, her hands clasped on the surface, her eyes staring at the younger woman. “If I’d let you go on I suppose you could have given me a yard and a half of assorted psychiatric jargon, complete with suggestions for a change in your pattern.”

“I only—”

“You only reacted the way a good Psychological Division worker is supposed to react, I imagine.” The eyes closed for a second, opened again. “You know, Norma, I could have dictated this to a tape and had it sent out automatically. Did you stop to think why I wanted to talk it out to you?”

“It’s a message to the Confederation,” Norma said slowly. “I suppose it’s important, and you wanted—”

“Importance demands accuracy,” Dr. Haenlingen broke in. “Do you think you can be more accurate than a tape record?”

A second of silence went by. “I don’t know, then,” Norma said at last.

“I wanted reaction,” Dr. Haenlingen said. “I wanted somebody’s reaction. But I can’t get yours. As far as I can see you’re the white hope of the Psychological Division—but even you are afraid of me, even you are masking any reaction you might have for fear the terrifying Dr. Anna Haenlingen won’t like it.” She paused. “Good Lord, girl, I’ve got to know if I’m getting through!”

Norma took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’ll try to give you what you want—”

“There you go again.” Dr. Haenlingen shoved back her chair and stood up, marched to the window and stared out at the forest again. Below, the vegetation glowed in the daylight. She shook her head slowly. “How can you give me what I want when I don’t know what I want? I need to know what you think, how you react. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do something wrong: there’s nothing wrong that you can do. Except not react at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Norma said again.

Dr. Haenlingen’s shoulders moved, up and down. It might have been a sigh. “Of course you are,” she said in a gentler voice. “I’m sorry, too. It’s just that matters aren’t getting any better—and one false move could crack us wide open.”

“I know,” Norma said. “You’d think people would understand—”

“People,” Dr. Haenlingen said, “understand very little. That’s what we’re here for, Norma: to make them understand a little more. To make them understand, in fact, what we want them to understand.”

“The truth,” Norma said.

“Of course,” Dr. Haenlingen said, almost absently. “The truth.”

This time there was a longer pause.

“Shall we get on with it, then?” Dr. Haenlingen said.

“I’m ready,” Norma said. “‘Complete and continuing silence.'”

Dr. Haenlingen paused. “What?… Oh. It should be perfectly obvious that the average Confederation citizen, regardless of his training or information, would not understand the project under development here no matter how carefully it was explained to him. The very concepts of freedom, justice, equality under the law, which form the cornerstone of Confederation law and, more importantly, Confederation societal patterns, will prevent him from judging with any real degree of objectivity our actions on Fruyling’s World, or our motives.”

“Actions,” Norma muttered. “Motives.” The trace flew busily over the pad, leaving its shorthand trail.

“It was agreed in the original formation of our project here that silence and secrecy were essential to the project’s continuance. Now, in the third generation of that project, the wall of silence has been breached and I have received repeated reports of rumors regarding our relationship with the natives. The very fact that such rumors exist is indication enough that an explosive situation is developing. It is possible for the Confederation to be forced to the wall on this issue, and this issue alone: I cannot emphasize too strongly the fact that such a possibility exists. Therefore—”

“Doctor,” Norma said.

The dictation stopped. Dr. Haenlingen turned slowly. “Yes?”

“You wanted reactions, didn’t you?” Norma said.

“Well?” The word was not unfriendly.

Norma hesitated for a second. Then she burst out: “But they’re so far away! I mean—there isn’t any reason why they should really care. They’re busy with their own lives, and I don’t really see why whatever’s done here should occupy them—”

“Because you’re not seeing them,” Dr. Haenlingen said. “Because you’re thinking of the Confederation, not the people who compose the Confederation, all of the people on Mars, and Venus, the moons and Earth. The Confederation itself—the government—really doesn’t care. Why should it? But the people do—or would.”

“Oh,” Norma said, and then: “Oh. Of course.”

“That’s right,” Dr. Haenlingen said. “They hear about freedom, and all the rest, as soon as they’re old enough to hear about anything. It’s part of every subject they study in school, it’s part of the world they live in, it’s like the air they breathe. They can’t question it: they can’t even think about it.”

“And, of course, if they hear about Fruyling’s World—”

“There won’t be any way to disguise the fact,” Dr. Haenlingen said. “In the long run, there never is. And the fact will shock them into action. As long as they continue to live in that air of freedom and justice and equality under the law, they’ll want to stop what we’re doing here. They’ll have to.”

“I see,” Nonna said. “Of course.”

Dr. Haenlingen, still looking out at the world below, smiled faintly. “Slavery,” she said, “is such an ugly word.”

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