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Sentry Of The Sky

by Evelyn E. Smith: There had to be a way for Sub-Archivist Clarey to get up in the world—but this way was right out of the tri-di dramas. Clarey had checked in at Classification Center so many times that ...

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The Rat Race

by Jay Franklin CHAPTER 1 When the bomb exploded, U.S.S. Alaska, was steaming westward, under complete radio silence, somewhere near the international date-line on the Great Circle course south of the Aleutian Islands. It was either the second or ...

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The Troublemakers

by George O. Smith: What did Genetics and Hansen's Folly have in common? Why, everything ... Genetics was statistical and Hansen's Folly impossible! I The living room reflected wealth, position, good taste. In size it was a full ten feet ...

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The Sea-Wolf

by Jack London CHAPTER I I scarcely know where to begin, though I sometimes facetiously place the cause of it all to Charley Furuseth’s credit. He kept a summer cottage in Mill Valley, under the shadow of ...

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The 2010 CIA World Factbook

by United States. Central Intelligence Agency CONTENTS What's New? Did You Know? Guide to Country Profiles Countries and Locations Field Listings Rank Orders Appendixes Notes and Definitions History of the CIA Factbook Contributors and Copyright Information Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) Download full book

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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 Thirty-Nine Steps

by John Buchan CHAPTER ONE The Man Who Died I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old Country, and was fed ...

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The Poison Belt

by Arthur Conan Doyle Chapter I THE BLURRING OF LINES It is imperative that now at once, while these stupendous events are still clear in my mind, I should set them down with that exactness of detail which ...

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New Lamps

by Robert Moore Williams: Ronson came to the Red Planet on the strangest mission of all ... he only knew he wanted to see Les Ro, but he didn't know exactly why. It was because he ...

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STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

By Robert Louis Stevenson 1) STORY OF THE DOOR MR. UTTERSON the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance, that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, ...

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Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales - Second Series

by H. C. Andersen THE FLAX HE flax was in full bloom; it had pretty little blue flowers, as delicate as the wings of a moth. The sun shone on it and the showers watered it; and ...

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King Solomon's Mines

by H. Rider Haggard CHAPTER I I MEET SIR HENRY CURTIS It is a curious thing that at my age—fifty-five last birthday—I should find myself taking up a pen to try to write a history. I wonder what ...

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Youth

by Isaac Asimov Red and Slim found the two strange little animals the morning after they heard the thunder sounds. They knew that they could never show their new pets to their parents. There was a spatter ...

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THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET

by William Shakespeare ACT I. Scene I. Verona. A public place. Enter Sampson and Gregory (with swords and bucklers) of the house of Capulet. Samp. Gregory, on my word, we'll not carry coals. Greg. No, for then we should ...

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Great Expectations

by Charles Dickens Chapter I My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and ...

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THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

By Oscar Wilde THE PREFACE The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material ...

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The Call of the Wild

by Jack London Chapter I. Into the Primitive "Old longings nomadic leap, Chafing at custom's chain; Again from its brumal sleep Wakens the ferine strain." Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not ...

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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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D-99

by H. B. Fyfe ONE At the ninety-fifth floor, Westervelt left the public elevator for a private automatic one which he took four floors further. When he stepped out, the dark, lean youth faced an office entrance ...

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The Radio Man

by Ralph Milne Farley: 1 the message in the meteor Never had I been so frightened in all my life! It was a warm evening late in August, and I was sitting on the kitchen steps of my ...

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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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Kidnapped