On one side, the wall was blank; on the other, it was pierced by two small casement windows. The far end was of windows for its entire width, from within three feet of the floor almost to the ceiling. There were bookcases on either long side, and on the rear end, and over them hung Pierre's weapons. Rand went slowly around the room, taking everything in. Very few of the arms were of issue military type, and most of these showed alterations to suit individual requirements. As Pierre had told him the evening before, the emphasis was upon weapons which illustrated techniques of combat. At the end of the room, lighted by the wide windows, was a long desk which was really a writer's assembly line, with typewriter, reference-books, stacks of notes and manuscripts, and a big dictionary on a stand beside a comfortable swivel-chair. "What are you writing?" Rand asked. "Science-fiction. I do a lot of stories for the pulps," Pierre told him. "_Space-Trails_, and _Other Worlds_, and _Wonder-Stories_; mags like that. Most of it's standardized formula-stuff; what's known to the trade as space-operas. My best stuff goes to _Astonishing_. Parenthetically, you mustn't judge any of these magazines by their names. It seems to be a convention to use hyperbolic names for science-fiction magazines; a heritage from what might be called an earlier and ruder day. What I do for _Astonishing_ is really hard work, and I enjoy it. I'm working now on one for them, based on J. W. Dunne's time-theories, if you know what they are." "I think so," Rand said. "Polydimensional time, isn't it? Based on an effect Dunne observed and described--dreams obviously related to some waking event, but preceding rather than following the event to which they are related. I read Dunne's _Experiment with Time_ some years before the war, and once, when I had nothing better to do, I recorded dreams for about a month. I got a few doubtful-to-fair examples, and two unmistakable Dunne-Effect dreams. I never got anything that would help me pick a race-winner or spot a rise in the stock market, though." "Well, you know, there's a case on record of a man who had a dream of hearing a radio narration of the English Derby of 1933, including the announcement that Hyperion had won, which he did," Pierre said. "The dream was six hours before the race, and tallied very closely with the phraseology used by the radio narrator. Here." He picked up a copy of Tyrrell's _Science and Psychical Phenomena_ and leafed through it. "Did this fellow cash in on it?" Rand asked. "No. He was a Quaker, and violently opposed to betting. Here." He handed the book to Rand. "Case Twelve." Rand sat down on the edge of the desk, and read the section indicated, about three pages in length.