Fantasy & Science Fiction V030n04
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THE MA GAZINE Of Fantasy and JACK VANCE Science Fiction ISAAC ASIMOV J.T. MCINTOS NOVELETS We Can Remember It For You Wholesale Philip k. dick 4 The Sorcerer Pharesm JACK VANCE 79 SHORT STORIES Appoggiatura A. M, MARPLE 25 But Soft, What Light . CAROL EMSHWILLER 41 The Sudden Silence J. T. MCINTOSH 45 The Face Is Familiar GILBERT THOMAS 64 The Space Twins JAMES PULLEY 75 Bordered In Black LARRY NIVEN 112 FEATURES Cartoon GAHAN WILSON 24 Books JUDITH MERRIL 31 Injected Memory THEODORE L. THOMAS 62 Verse: The Octopus DORIS PITKIN BUCK 63 Science: The Nobelmen of Science ISAAC ASIMOV 101 F&SF Marketplace 129 Cover by Jack Gaughan (illustrating "The Sorcerer Pharesm”) Joseph W. Ferman, publishek Edward L. Ferman, editor Ted White, assistant editor Isaac Asimov, science editor Judith Merril, book editor Robert P. Mills, consulting editor Dale Beardale, aRCULATiON manager The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Volume 30, No. 4, Whole No. 179, Apr. 1966. Published monthly by Mercury Press, Inc., at 504 o copy. Annual subscription $5.00; $5.50 in Canada and the Pan American Union, $6.00 in all other countries. Publication office, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. 03302. Editorial and general mail should be sent to 347 East 53rd St., New York, N. Y. 10022. Second Class postage paid at Concord, N. H. Printed in U.S.A. © 1966 by Mercury Press, Inc. All rights including translations into other languages, reserved. Submissions must be accompanied by stamped, self-addressed envelopes: the Publisher assumes no responsibility for return of unsolicited manuscripts. Surely one of mans most difficult tasks is to learn to live with his memories. When, as for Douglas Quail, those include a dull job, a wilting marriage and little else, then something must be done. As, for instance, chang- ing those memories. If you are a new reader and this concept seems far-fetched to you, we suggest that you check Ted Thomas’s column on page 62. WE CAN REMEMBER IT FOR YOU WHOLESALE by Philip K. Dick He awoke —AND WANTED “Okay,” Douglas Quail said, and Mars. The valleys, he thought. made his way barefoot from the What would it be like to trudge bedroom of their conapt to the among them? Great and greater kitchen. There, having dutifully yet: the dream grew as he became pressed the hot coffee button, he fully conscious, the dream and seated himself at the kitchen table, the yearning. He could almost brought out a yellow, small tin of feel the enveloping presence of the fine Dean Swift snuff. He inhaled other world, which only Govern- briskly, and the Beau Nash mix- ment agents and high officials had ture stung his nose, burned the seen. A clerk like himself? Not roof of his mouth. But stiU he in- likely. haled; it woke him up and allowed "Are you getting up or not?” his dreams, his noctural desires his wife Kirsten asked drowsily, and random wishes, to condense with her usual hint of fierce cross- into a semblance of rationality. ness. “If you are, push the hot I will go, he said to himself. Be- colfee button on the dam stove.” fore I die I’ll see Mars. 4 WE CAN REMEMBER IT FOR YOU WHOLESALE 5 It was, of course, impossible, everyone knows that. Rent an and he knew this even as he artificial gill-outfit for both of us, dreamed. But the daylight, the take a week ofiE from work, and we mundane noise of his wife now can descend and live down there brushing her hair before the bed- at one of those year-round—aquatic room mirror — everything con- resorts. And in addition ” She spired to remind him of what he broke oflF. “You’re not listening. was. A miserahle little salaried You should be. Here is something employee, he said to himself with a lot better than that compulsion, bitterness. Kirsten reminded him that obsession you have about of this at least once a day and he Mars, and you don’t even listen!” did not blame her; it was a wife’s Her voice rose piercingly. “God in job to bring her husband down to heaven, you’re doomed, Doug! Earth. Down to Earth, he thought, What’s going to become of you?” and laughed. The figure of speech “I’m going to work,” be said, in this was literally apt. rising to his feet, his breakfast for- “What are you sniggering gotten. “That’s what’s going to be- about?” his wife asked as she swept come of me.” into the kitchen, her long busy- She eyed him. “You’re getting pink robe wagging after her. "A worse. More fanatical every day. dream, I bet. You’re always full of Where’s it going to lead?” them.” “To Mars,” he said, and opened "Yes,” he said, and gazed out the the door to the closet to get down kitchen window at tbe hovercars a fresh shirt to wear to work. and traffic runnels, and all the little energetic people hurrying to Having descended from the taxi work. In a little while he would Douglas Quail slowly walked across be among them. As always. three densely-populated foot run- “I’ll bet it has to do with some nels and to the modem, attractive- woman,” Kirsten said witheringly. ly inviting doorway. There he “No,” he said. “A god. The god halted, impeding mid-moming of war. He has wonderful craters traffic, and with caution read the with every kind of plant-life grow- shifting-color neon sign. He had, ing deep down in them.” in the past, scrutinized this sign “Listen.” Kirsten crouched before . but never had he down beside him and spoke ear- come so close. This was very dif- nestly, the harsh quality momen- ferent; what he did now was tarily gone from her voice. "The something else. Something which bottom of the ocean —our ocean is sooner or later had to happen. much more, an infinity of times REKAL, INCORPORATED more beautiful. You know that; Was this the answer? After all. 6 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION an illusion, no matter how con- nut desk, sat a genial-looking man, vincing, remained nothing more middle-aged, wearing the latest than an illusion. At least objec- Martian frog-pelt gray suit; his at- tively. But subjectively— quite the tire alone would have told Quail opposite entirely. that he had come to the right And anyhow he had an ap- person. pointment. Within the next hve “Sit down, Douglas,” McClane minutes. said, w’aving his plump hand to- ward a chair which faced the Taking a deep breath of mildly desk. “So you want to have gone smog-infested Chicago air, he to Mars. Very good.” walked through the dazzling poly- Quail seated himself, feeling chromatic shimmer of the door- tense. “I’m not so sure this is way and up to the receptionist’s worth the fee,” he said. “It costs counter. a lot and as far as I can see I The nicely-articulated blonde really get nothing.” Costs almost at the counter, bare-bosomed and as much as going, he thought. tidy, said pleasantly, “Good morn- “You get tangible proof of your ing, Mr. Quail.” trip,” McClane disagreed empha- “Yes,” he said. “I’m here to see tically. “All the proof you’ll need. about a Rekal course. As I guess Here; I’ll show you.” He dug you know.” within a drawer of his impressive “Not ‘rekal’ but recall,” the re- desk. “Ticket stub.” Reaching into ceptionist corrected him. She a manila folder he produced a picked up the receiver of the vid- small square of embossed card- phone by her smooth elbow and board. “It proves you went—and said into it, “Mr. Douglas Quail is returned. Postcards.” He laid out here, Mr. McClane. May he come four franked picture 3-D full- inside, now? Or is it too soon?” color postcards in a neatly-arrang- “Giz wetwa wum-wum wamp,” ed row on the desk for Quail to see. the phone mumbled. “Film. Shots you took of local “Yes, Mr. Quail,” she said. “You sights on Mars with a rented may go on in; Mr. McClane is movie camera.” To Quail he dis- expecting you.” As he started off played those, too. “Plus the names uncertainly she called after him, of people you met, two hundred “Room D, Mr. Quail. To your poscreds worth of souvenirs, which right.” will arrive — from Mars —within After a frustrating but brief the following month. And pass- moment of being lost he found the port, certificates listing the shots proper room. The door hung open you received. And more.” He and inside, at a big genuine wal- glanced up keenly at Quail. “You’ll WE CAN REMEMBER IT FOR YOU WHOLESALE 7 know you went, all right,” he “More than the real thing, sir. said. ‘‘You won’t remember us, Had you really gone to Mars as won’t remember me or ever having an Interplan agent, you would by been here. It’ll be a real trip in now have forgotten a great deal; your mind; we guarantee that. A our analysis of true-mem systems full two weeks of recall; every last — authentic recollections of major piddling detail. Remember this: events in a person’s life — shows if at any time you doubt that you that a variety of details are very really took an extensive trip to quickly lost to the person. Forever. Mars you can return here and get Part of the package we offer you is a full refund.