“Some were thin and sinewy and dry, others fat and blotchy pink. At the edge of the bright-lit field a huge chubby man in a pullover white robe lounged in a water-filled chair. He was a cyborg, his screwin right hand at the moment was a public address mike. “Once the thinking process contracts sufficiently into the self,” he was saying in a tinny voice, “the control of the body’s aging process is more nearly attainable. Let us therefore think inward, always inward.” Near the fat cyborg, who ...must be Dr. Cazedessus, a dark brittle old man giggled. “You’re not thinking in, Mr. Feldman,” warned the Mentex head. “Most sorry,” apologized old Feldman. “I keep thinking of bawdy stories I read in the college humor magazines of my youth.” “That will not make you one whit younger.” Conger, invisible once more, walked along the edge of the field. It was now growing on toward eleven PM and he’d been prowling the Mentex Institute grounds for over two hours.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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