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Sparx, v. 1, issue 6, February 1948

Page 22

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RECALL (CONT) preserved. One would have been very wrong. Reilley remembered the day that the United Nations was founded! If he memory had been a little more certain as to the exact date of his birth, he would have boasted about it, but, as a scientist of considerable standing, he felt the need of accurate data before making any foolish statements. His feelings on the matter were not strong enough to make him consult his REFREX (universal reference-tape library-index) about it. His face was built on a definitely angular and jutting mould; his eyebrows overhung his deep-set eyes in a manner which was strongly reminiscent of the Neanderthal; his chin jutted out in a way which most definitely was not. The rough contour of the latter was concealed by a profuse and badly trimmed white beard. Reilley's eyes were blue and penetrating, quite the most remarkable feature of his body. They were acute, well trained eyes, and Reilley seldom missed anything that was going on, through their default. So far, there is a little which might be called excessively out-of-the-way in Reilley's appearance. A striking man, perhaps, but not a bizarre one. His dress and action completed the picture, and produced the effect. It was very warm -- even for Venus -- and Reilley was wearing a pair of ragged green shorts, very pale from years of wear and washing. Around the belt loops straggled a wide compartmented belt, finished in some sort of highly resistant leather-like plastic. It contained and supported a great many gadjects -- first aid kit, radio, ammunition, and a huge old fashioned .45 which was protected against moisture and fumes by a monomolecular film of one of many novel new synthetic resins. He was fully prepared for any eventuality. It might be supposed that, as he sat there on the hillside smoking, he was considering some weighty scientific problem, perhaps estimating the amount of ultrasonic power necessary to blast the mists of Venus out of existence, or deliberating on the subject of a geological survey of the neighborhood. He was not. With the tremendous satisfaction which only a highly talented mind can bring to bear on a problem. Phillip Reilley was digging a small hole in the ground with the big toe of his left foot. Occasionally, he would pause briefly to suck on his pipe and exhale a tremendous cloud of vile vapor. He was perfectly content with his idleness for the moment; he had been eseful -- slavishly so -- for a good many years of his life, and he probably would be again in due time. But, for the moment, he was quite happy to sit and dig. It was at night that Reilley's work was done, during the long and not too dreary period when temperatures hovered for EN months far below the freezing point. Then, confined to the house most of the time, he would break out the tools of his trade as physicist and engineer. By the time sunrise came around, he had usually produced several major contributions to the comfort and well-being of the system. Even now, the ((More yet on page 25)) 22
 
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