by Isaac Asimov
He had murdered a man!
And then a deluge of amazement–
Without touching him! He had killed this man just by hating him, by striking somehow at the Mind Touch.
What other powers did he have? He made a quick decision. He searched the other’s pockets and found money. Good! He could use that. Then he dragged the corpse into the fields and let the high grass cover it.
He walked on for two hours. No other Mind Touch disturbed him.
He slept in an open field that night, and the next morning, after two hours more, reached the outskirts of Chica.
Chica was only a village to Schwartz, and by comparison with the Chicago he remembered, the motion of the populace was still thin and sporadic. Even so, the Mind Touches were for the first time numerous. They amazed and confused him.
So many! Some drifting and diffuse; some pointed and intense. There were men who passed with their minds popping in tiny explosions; others with nothing inside their skulls but, perhaps, a gentle rumination on the breakfast just completed.
At first Schwartz turned and jumped with every Touch that passed, taking each as a personal contact; but within the hour he learned to ignore them.
He was hearing words now, even when “they were not actually mouthed. This was something new, and he found himself listening. They were thin, eery phrases, disconnected and wind-whipped; far off, far off... And with them, living, crawling emotion and other subtle things that cannot be described–so that all the world was a panorama of boiling life visible to himself only.
He found he could penetrate buildings as he walked, sending his mind in as though it were something he held on a leash, something that could suck its way into crannies invisible to the eye and bring out the bones of men’s inner thoughts.
It was before a huge stone-fronted building that he halted, and considered. They (whoever they were) were after him. He had killed the follower, but there must be others–the others that the follower had wanted to call. It might be best for him to make no move for a few days, and how to do that best?... A job?...”
He probed the building before which he had stopped. In there was a distant Mind Touch that to him might mean a job. They were looking for textile workers in there–and he had once been a tailor.
He stepped inside, where he was promptly ignored by everyone. He touched someone’s shoulder.
“Where do I see about a job, please?”
“Through that door!” The Mind Touch that reached him was full of annoyance and suspicion.
Through the door, and then a thin, point-chin fellow fired questions at him and fingered the classifying machine onto which he punched the answers.
Schwartz stammered his lies and truths with equal uncertainty.
But the personnel man began, at least, with a definite unconcern. The questions were fired rapidly: “Age?... Fifty-two? Hmm. State of health?... Married?... Experience?... Worked with textiles?... Well, what kind?... Thermoplastic? Elastomeric?... What do you mean, you think all kinds?... Whom did you work with last?... Spell his name.... You’re not from Chica, are you?... Where are your papers?... You’ll have to bring them here if you want action taken.... What’s your registration number?...”
Schwartz was backing away. He hadn’t foreseen this end when he had begun. And the Mind Touch of the man before him was changing. It had become suspicious to the point of single-trackedness, and cautious too. There was a surface layer of sweetness and good-fellowship that was so shallow. and which overlay animosity so thinly, as to De the most dangerous feature of all.
“I think,” said Schwartz nervously, “that I’m not suited for this job.”
“No, no, come back.” And the man beckoned at him. “We have something for you. Just let me look through the files a bit.” He was smiling, but his Mind Touch was clearer now and even more unfriendly.
He had punched a buzzer on his desk–
Schwartz, in a sudden panic, rushed for the door.
“Hold him!” cried the other instantly. dashing from behind his desk.
Schwartz struck at the Mind Touch, lashing out violently with his own mind, and he heard a groan behind him. He looked quickly over his shoulder. The personnel man was seated on the floor, face contorted and temples buried in his palms. Another man bent over him; then, at an urgent gesture, headed for Schwartz. Schwartz waited no more.
He was out on the street, fully aware now that there must be an alarm out for him with a complete description made public, and that the personnel man, at least, had recognized him.
He ran and doubled along the streets blindly. He attracted attention; more of it now, for the streets were filling up–suspicion, suspicion everywhere–suspicion because he ran–suspicion because his clothes were wrinkled and ill-fitting
In the multiplicity of Mind Touches and in the confusion of his own fear and despair. he could not identify the true enemies, the ones in which there was not only suspicion but certainty, and so he hadn’t the slightest warning of the neuronic whip.
There was only that awful pain, which descended like the whistle of a lash and remained like the crush of a rock. For seconds he coasted down the slope of that descent into agony before drifting into the black.
... Continued in Volume 14
Sources of Dates
(For Volume 13)
AD =Anno Domini
GE =Galactic Era
FE =Foundational Era
“Hope: Reunification of Mankind” Provided by author.
The Stars, Like Dust Takes place a thousand years after Earth suffers nuclear bombardment
The Currents of Space Takes place five centuries before the founding of the Galactic Empire. (Note: Foundation’s Edge takes place about 22,000 years after interstellar travel begins, i.e. AD 24,000. This is 12,566 years after the founding of the Galactic Empire, which sets the Empire’s foundation around the year AD 11,500. For no good reason, I’ve chosen AD 11,585 for the year 1 GE.)
Pebble in the Sky Stated in the novel.
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
Table of Contents
Hope: Reunification of Mankind
Pre-Chapter
Databank-Chapter One
Chapter One
Databank-Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Databank-Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Databank-Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Databank-Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Databank-Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Databank-Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Databank-Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Databank-Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Databank-Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Databank-Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Databank-Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Databank-Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Databank-Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
The Stars, Like Dust
One: The Bedroom Murmured
Two: The Net Across Space
Three: Chance and the Wrist Watch
Four: Free?
Five: Uneasy Lies the Head
Six: That Wears a Crown
Seven: Musician of the Mind
Eight: A Lady’s Skirts
Nine: And an Overlord’s Trousers
Ten: Maybe!
Eleven: And Maybe Not!
Twelve: The Autarch Comes
Thirteen: The Autarch Remains
Fourteen: The Autarch Leaves
Fifteen: The Hole in Space
Sixteen: Hounds!
Seventeen: And Hares!
Eighteen: Out of the Jaws of Defeat!
Nineteen: Defeat!
Twenty: Where?
Twenty-One: Here?
Twenty-Two: There!
/>
The Currents of Space
Prolog: A Year Before
One: The Foundling
Two: The Townman
Three: The Librarian
Four: The Rebel
Five: The Scientist
Six: The Ambassador
Seven: The Patroller
Eight: The Lady
Nine: The Squire
Ten: The Fugitive
Eleven: The Captain
Twelve: The Detective
Thirteen: The Yachtsman
Fourteen: The Renegade
Fifteen: The Captive
Sixteen: The Accused
Seventeen: The Accuser
Eighteen: The Victors
Epilog: A Year After
Pebble in the Sky
One: Between One Footstep and the Next
Two: The Disposal of a Stranger
Three: One World-Or Many?
Four: The Royal Road
Five: The Involuntary Volunteer
Six: Apprehension in the Night
Seven: Conversation with Madmen?
Eight: Convergence at Chica
Nine: Conflict at Chica
Ten: Interpretation of Events
Eleven: The Mind That Changed
Twelve: The Mind That Killed
Sources of Dates
