I say “It went crazy.” Then I see this is kid’s talk but I have no time to put learned words to it, I say “Look. You know how it starts? There is a sort of warm up and then a little click and it settles down to the right speed? Well it did not happen. What I think, the Governor must have been off or something, but that is not all—it got quicker and quicker but it did something else—look I have not the right expressions for it, but it felt like something opened my skull and pasting things on the Convolutions inside.”

  He has a look of wild something, maybe Surmise maybe just exasperation, then Doc Beschrievene comes in.

  He says “Miss Lee, if it was a joke, may we call it off? Readers are in short supply.”

  I say if I wanted to make a joke I would make it a funny one.

  M’Clare says “Ask Miss Lee to tell you what happens when you start the Reader.”

  Beschrievene says “I have started it! I connected it up and it worked quite normally.”

  Now the thing has gone into hiding, it will jump out on somebody else like it did on me. I have no time to say this: M’Clare says “Tell Dr. Beschrievene about the Reader.”

  I say “It started to go too fast and then—”

  He says Start at the beginning and tell what I told before.

  I say “When you sit in a Reader there is normally an initial period during which the movement of the words becomes more rapid, then there is a short transitional period of confusion and then the thing clicks audibly and the movement of the words proceeds at a set rate. This time—”

  Here Doc gives a yell just like me and jumps to his feet. M’Clare says What was I reading in the Machine?

  I do not see what that has to do with it but I tell him, then he wants to know what I remember of it and where it stopped.

  I would not have thought I remembered but I do, I know just where it had got to, he takes me backwards bit by bit—

  Then I begin to catch on.

  M’Clare says “What is your usual reading rate, Liz?”

  I swallow hard. I say “Too low to register on the dial, I don’t know.”

  He says “Is your father handicapped too?”

  I lift my head again, I am going to say That is not his business, then I say Yes instead.

  He says “And he feels badly about it? Yes, he would. And you never told anybody. Of course not!” I do not know if it is scorn or anger or what. Beschrievene is talking to himself in a language I do not know.

  M’Clare says Come along to the Reading room.

  The chair has its back off, M’Clare plugs in a little meter lying on the floor and says “Sit down, Liz.”

  There is nothing I want less than to sit in that chair, but Ido.

  M’Clare says “Whether or not you have a repetition of your previous experience is entirely up to you. Switch on.”

  I am annoyed at his tone, I think I will give that switch a good bang. I feel I have done it, too.

  But the light does not go on.

  M’Clare says patiently “lim on, please, Miss Lee.”

  I say “You do it.”

  Beschrievene says “Wait! There is no need to demonstrate, after all. We know what happened.”

  Then M’Clare’s fingers brush over mine and turn the switch.

  I jump all over, the thing warms up and then click! there is the little jump and the words moving steadily through.

  And you know, I am disappointed.

  Beschrievene says He will be the son of a bigamist, I jump out of the chair and demand to know What goes?

  M’Clare is looking at a dial in the meter, he turns and looks at me with exactly the same expression and says “Would you like to repeat the experience you described?”

  Beschrievene says “No!”

  I say “Yes. I would.”

  M’Clare bends and does something inside the Machine, then he says again “Sit down, Lizzie Lee.”

  There it is again, words slide across slow and then quicker and quicker and there is something pressing on my brain; then there is a Bang and it all goes off and Beschrievene is talking angry and foreign to M’Clare.

  I climb out and say Will they kindly explain.

  M’Clare tells me to come and look, it is the Reading-rate dial of the machine it now says Seven thousand five hundred and three.

  Beschrievene says How much do I know about the machine? seems to me the safest answer is Nothing at all.

  He says “There is an attachment which regulates the speed of movement of the words according to the reaction of the user. It sets itself automatically and registers on this dial here. But there is also another part of the machine far more important, although there is no dial for it unless you fit a test-meter as we have done; this is called the Concentration Unit or Crammer.”

  I did know that, it is what makes people able to read faster than with an old-style book.

  He says, “This unit is compulsive. When the machines were first made it was thought they might be misused to insert hypnotic commands into the minds of readers. It would be very difficult, but perhaps not impossible. Therefore in the design was incorporated a safety device. ” He pats one individual piece of spaghetti for me to admire.

  He says “This device automatically shuts off the Crammer when it encounters certain cortical wave-patterns which correspond to strong resistance, such as is called forth by hypnotically imposed orders; not merely the resistance of a wandering mind.”

  I say But—

  He looks as though I suddenly started sprouting and says “M’Clare this is most strange, this very young girl to be so strong, and from childhood too! Looks are nothing, of course—”

  M’Clare says “Exactly so. Do you understand, Lizzie? One of your outstanding characteristics is a dislike of being what you call pushed around, in fact I believe if somebody tried to force you to carry out your dearest wish you would resist with all your might. You are set not so much on Free Will as on Free Won’t. The Crammer appeared to your subconscious as something that interfered with your personal freedom, so you resisted it. That isn’t uncommon, at first, but not many people resist hard enough to turn the thing off.”

  I say “But it worked!”

  Beschrievene says that the safety device only turns off the Crammer, the rest of the machine goes on working but only at the rate for unassisted reading about one tenth normal rate.

  M’Clare says “You, my girl, have been trying to keep up with a course designed for people who could absorb information seven or eight times as fast. No wonder your knowledge seemed a bit sketchy.”

  He sounds angry.

  Well hells bells I am angry myself, if only I had told somebody it could all have been put right at the start, or if only the man who first tried to teach Dad the Reader had Known what was wrong with the way he used it, Dad would have had ordinary schooling and maybe not gone into prospecting but something else, and—

  Then whoever got born it would not have been me, so Where does that get you?

  Beschrievene is saying “What I do not understand, why did she suddenly stop resisting the machine?”

  M’Clare says “Well, Liz?”

  It is a little time before I see the answer to that, then I say “We cannot resist everything, we can only choose the forces to which we will submit.”

  They look blank. M’Clare says Is it a Quotation?

  I say “Your speech on Opening Day. I did not listen then. I heard it just now.”

  This I never thought to see, his classical puss goes red all over and he does not know what to say.

  Beschrievene wants to know more of what was said so I recite. At the end he says “Words! Your students frighten me, M’Clare. So much power in words, at the right time, and you are training them to use such tools so young! To use them perhaps on a whole planet!”

  M’Clare says “Would you rather leave it to chance? Or to people with good intentions and no training at all? Or to professional axe-grinders and amateurs on the make?”

  I say How do I stop doing it?

  Beschrievene rubs his chin and says I will have to start slowly, the machine produced so much effect because it was going fast, normally children learn to read at five when their reading rate is low even with the Crammer. He says he will take out the safety but put in something to limit speed and I can have a short session tomorrow.

  I say Exams in four weeks three days why not today?

  He laughs and says Of course I will be excused the exam—

  M’Clare says Certainly I will take the exam, there is no reason why I should not pull up to pass standard; work is not heavy this term.

  Beschrievene looks under his eyebrows but says Very well.

  After lunch I sit down in the doctored machine.

  Five minutes later I throw up.

  Beschrievene fusses and gives me anti-nauseant and makes me lie down half an hour then I start again.

  I last twenty minutes and come out head aching fit to grind a hole. I say For all sakes run it full speed, it is this push and drag together turns me up, this morning the Machine only scared me.

  He does not want to do this, I have to go all out to persuade him; I am getting set to weep tears when he says Very well, he is no longer surprised my Will was strong enough to turn off the Machine.

  This time it comes full on.

  The words slide across my eyes slow, then quicker, then suddenly they are running like water pouring through my eyes to my brain, something has hold of me keeping my mind open so they can get in, if I struggle if I stop one microsecond from absolute concentration they will jam and something will break.

  I could not pull any of my mind away to think with but there is a little comer of it free, watching my body, it makes my breath go on digs my nails into my hands stops the muscles of my legs when they try to jerk me out of the chair, sets others to push me back again.

  I can hear my breath panting and the bang of my heart, then I do not hear it any longer, I am not separate any longer from the knowledge coming into my mind from the machine and then it stops.

  It is like Waking with a light on the face, I gasp and leap in the seat and the blinkers pull my hair, I yell What did you do that for?

  M’Clare is standing in front of me, he says Eighty-seven minutes is quite sufficient come out of that at once.

  I try to stand and my knees won’t unhinge, to hear M’Clare you would think it was his legs I got cramp in, I suppose I went to sleep in the middle of his Remarks anyway I wake tomorrow in bed.

  In the morning I tell it all to B, because she is a friend of mine and it is instructive anyway.

  B says Lizzie it must have been awful but it is rather wonderful too, I do not see this I say Well it is nice it is over.

  Which it is not.

  Four weeks look a long time from the front end but not when it is over and I have to take the Exam.

  I have made up my mind on one thing, if I do not pass I am not asking anyone to make allowances I am just going straight off home, I am too tired to think much about it but that is what I will do.

  Exam, I look at all the busy interested faces and the stylers clicking along and at the end I am certain for sure I have Failed by quite a way.

  I do not join the post-mortem groups, I get to my room and lock the door and think for a bit.

  I think That finishes it, no more strain and grind and Terrie voices and Please Tune In Daily For Routine Announcements and smells you get in some of this Over occupied air, no more high-minded kids who don’t know dead sure from however, no more essays and No More M’Clare, I wish they would hurry up and get the marks over so I can get organized to count my blessings properly.

  However sixty four-hour papers take time to read even with a Crammer and M’Clare does them all himself, we shall get the marks day after tomorrow if then.

  There is a buzz from the speaker in the Study and B is not there, I have to go.

  Of all the people who should be too busy to call just now it is Mr. M’Clare He says I have not notified him of my Vacation plans yet.

  I say Huh?

  He says as my Guardian he ought to know where I am to be found and he wants to be sure I have got return schedules fixed from wherever I am going so as to make certain I get back in time for next term.

  I say Hell what makes you think I am coming back next term anyway?

  He says Certainly I am coming back next term, if I am referring to the Exam he has just had a look at my paper it is adequate though not Outstanding no doubt I will do better with time. Will I let his secretary have details of my plans, and he turns it off on me.

  I sit down on the floor, no chair to hand.

  Well for one thing the bit about the Vacations was not even meant to deceive, he did it just to let me know I got Through.

  So I have not finished here after all.

  The more I think about studying Cultural Engineering the more doubtful I get, it is pushing people around however you like to put it more fancy than that.

  The more I think about Terries the more I wonder they survived so long, some are all right such as B but even she would not be so safe in most places I know.

  The more I think—

  Well Who am I fooling after all?

  The plain fact is I am not leaving Russett and all the rest of it and I am so pleased about it, just now I do not care if the whole damn College calls me Lysistrata.

  Part Two:

  RATS IN THE MOON

  So this is a Rat.

  It reminds me of a man back home on Excenus 23 tried to sell my Father a mine once.

  The mine turned out a good one I believe, which maybe shows you should not Judge by Appearances, but anyway Dad had all the money he knew what to do with already.

  It is just about par for today that earlier this afternoon I spent nearly an hour watching for Rats, and now this one comes sliding out of a tunnel when I have to catch up with Clarence and do not have time to look.

  Oh, well, I can spare ten seconds I suppose … It sits up and is looking down its teeth as much as to say It spent half an afternoon waiting to see a Person and all it gets is Lizzie Lee. (Actually it is on the wrong side of a sheet of one-way glass which to Rats seems the end of the World I suppose). I decide it is short on personal charm especially the tail, but considered as Ultimate Horror gnawing the Heart of the Universe my reaction is No.

  The Rat turns suddenly and flicks back into its tunnel and I go on my way trying to practice the rules for Lunar Locomotion at Maximum Speed with Minimum Effort… (Certainly I am on the Moon, these days they do not allow Rats anywhere else.)

  How I got there is kind of complicated and goes like this:

  I have finished one semester as a student of Cultural Engineering at Russett College, Earth, and to my surprise I had to go on a Vacation.

  Naturally I am aware that for students Vacations form part of the Total Experience. I just never expected to last so long, because of my Educational Handicap. Terries say they did not spend 500 years getting their Pop. down to reasonable figures just so as to be swamped by 1,000,000,000 tourists, every footloose person in the Inhabited Volume wants to visit the Mother of Mankind, so they do not let anyone land unless they have Legitimate Business on the planet. Studying is Legitimate provided you work at it which you have to prove by passing Exams; there was one at the end of the first semester and I expected to be thrown out as soon as I failed.

  However four and a half weeks before that M’Clare found out about my Educational Handicap and got it put right, and by studying every minute I actually passed the Exam with a few marks to spare.

  Next morning his Secretary calls by Communicator to ask about my Vacation Plans; M’Clare as my temporary Guardian needs to know where to find me, perhaps she might suggest—There is a heap of documents on my desk relating to Holiday Trips for Outsiders, I pick up the first one and inform her I shall be going on a Tour of the Monumental Achievements of Pre-Industrial Man.

  She says Really? and I state that I owe it to my Education to go, the oldest work of Man on my home planet being aged fifty-seven and that is a hole in the ground.

  She replies that I will find the Tour very Impressive. M’Clare has gone to a Conference but left a message for me. I am to enjoy myself stay out of trouble and not forget my Holiday Task.

  Hell.

  That must mean the Vacation Project Priority Catford handed out four weeks ago. I would just as soon have gone on forgetting it.

  Next semester we are due for a series of Seminars on Fictional Concepts in Relation to Contemporary Society and in preparation for this each member of the class has a Topic to read up and write an Essay on. The first ten or even fifteen are on subjects I have at least heard of but mine was number 47 and entitled The Concept of Absolute Evil in Fiction of the Age of Impotence.

  Well it could have been worse I suppose, my friend and roommate B Laydon has drawn The Theory of Emotional Equivalence as Exemplified in “Cubic of Solomon. ” Okay for her she claims to enjoy Three-dimensional poetry but that gadget you have to read it with gives me a headache in 10 seconds flat.

  I did not complain because I assumed I would be gone before it was time to hand in the Essay, so now I am stuck with it. Also with this Tour, it is a circular one and the Office tells me I can join it in Peru if I catch the Trans-equatorial Ferry in two hours’ time.

  So I set the Robolaundry to Pack and stuff clothes in with one hand while I hunt for the Reading List for the Project with the other. I finally get it set in the Library slot in time for book spools to start spilling out just as the Laundry starts to deliver also, and what with 2 dozen friends dropping in to say See you next semester I am still shoveling spools and encapsulated Garments into a traveling bag when my cab arrives. I have just got it programmed when I hear the noise the Library gadget makes when it has finished a List, followed by the sound of a spool dropping into the tray.

  Oh what the hell I already have books by Andersen Buchan Chesterton Donaldson Ellison Fortune Gamer Howard Innes Jacobi Koontz Lewis Merritt Norton Orwell Price Rice Sapper Tolkien Vance Wheatley Yates Zelazny and a few others not to mention several volumes of Appalling Science Fiction and Magazine of Fear and Wonder, one more cannot really matter. I lock the window and Go.

 

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