“Well, not everything,” he said. “All things in the future aren’t clear to us. Only certain main-line developments. And we can’t see too far into the future for most things. The past is easier. That’s been fixed immovably.” “And what if we don’t want to?” asked Claude. “Yeah,” I said. “What about that?” But I have to admit the idea wasn’t totally repulsive. As I’ve said, Claude looked like Sidney Harch, only younger. He had something--you can call it animal magnetism if you wish. The old man just smiled. “Miss Carlysle,” he said, “do you honestly object to--” “As long as I’m going to be in the family you can call me Jean,” I said. I was beginning to feel fatalistic about the whole thing. My great aunt Harriet was a prescient and I’d had experience with them. Now I was remembering the time she told me my kitty was going to die and I hid it in the old cistern and that night it rained and filled the cistern. Naturally the kitty drowned. I never forgave her for not telling me how the kitty was going to die. Old Williams looked at me and said, “At least _you’re_ being reasonable.” “I’m not,” said Claude. So I told them about my great aunt Harriet. “It’s the nature of things,” said Williams. “Why can’t you be as reasonable as she’s being, son?” Claude just sat there with the original stone face. “Am I so repulsive?” I asked. He looked at me then. Really looked. I tell you I got warm under it. I know I’m not repulsive. Finally, I guess I blushed. “You’re not repulsive,” he said. “I just object to having my whole life ordered out for me like a chess set up.” Stalemate. We sat there for a minute or so, completely silent. Presently Williams turned to me and said, “Well, Miss Carlysle, I presume you’re curious about what’s going on here.” “I’m not a moron,” I said. “This is one of the _Nothing_ Preserves.” “Correct,” he said. “Only it’s more than that. Your education includes the knowledge of how our talents developed from radiation mutants. Does it also include the knowledge of what happens to extremes from the norm?” Every schoolkid knows that, of course. So I told him. Sure I knew that the direction of development was toward the average. That genius parents tend to have children less smart than they are. This is just general information. Then the old man threw me the twister. “The talents are disappearing, my dear,” he said. I just sat there and thought about that for awhile. Certainly I knew it’d been harder lately to get a ’porter, even one of the old gent kind. “Each generation has more children without talents or with talents greatly dulled,” said Williams. “We will never reach a point where there are absolutely none, but what few remain will be needed for special jobs in the public interest.” “You mean if I have kids they’re liable to be _Nothings_?” I asked. “Look at your own family,” he said. “Your great aunt was a prescient. Have there been any others in your family?” “Well, no, but--”