Experiments -- Fiction; Fetus -- Fiction; Pregnant women -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
After an hour, Jane had Cramer cut off the voice. In the silence,
looking at the white and sweating men, she said, "We are getting close
to the end? Should we go on?"
Hoarsely, the Secretary shouted, "This is a hoax! I can prove it must
be! It's impossible! If we carry the seeds of predeterminism within us,
and yet, as now, we discover how to foresee what we shall do, why can't
we change the future?"
"I don't know, Mr. Secretary," said Jane. "We'll find out--in time. I
can tell you this. If anyone is preset to foretell the future, he'll do
so. If no one is, then the problem will go begging. It all depends on
Whoever wound us up."
"That's blasphemy!" howled the Secretary, a man noted for his
belligerent atheism. But he did not order the voice to stop after Jane
told Cramer to start the machine up again.
Cramer ran Cervus at full speed. The words became a staccato of
incomprehensibility; the oscilloscope, an almost solid blur. Flickers
of blackness told of broad jumps forward, and then the wild intertwined
lightning resumed.
Suddenly, the oscilloscope went blank, and the voice was silent.
Jane Carroad said, "Backtrack a little, Jason. And then run it forward
at normal speed."
James Carroad had been standing before her, rigid, a figure seemingly
made of white metal, his face almost as white as his uniform.
Abruptly, he broke into fluidity and lurched out of the laboratory. His
motions were broken; his shouts, broken also.
"Won't stay to listen ... rot ... mysticism ... believe this ... go
insane! Mean ... no control ... no control...."
And his voice was lost as the door closed behind him.
Jane said, "I don't want to hear this, Jason. But...."
Instantly, the voice boomed, "_God, he's at the window! And he has a
knife! What can I do? What can I do? Father, father, I'm your son! He
knows it, he knows it, yet he's going to kill me. The window! He's
breaking it! Oh, Lord, he's been locked up for nineteen years, ever
since he shot and killed my mother and all those men and I was born
a Caesarean and I didn't know he'd escape and still want to kill me,
though they told me that's all he talked about, raving mad, and...._"
THE END
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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