himself.
In a lull in the conversation, Gun said to Franz, “That was really a very strange thing that happened to you on Corona Heights. As near as you can get today to what you’d call the supernatural.”
Saul heard and said at once, “Hey, what’s a materialist scientist like you doing talking about the supernatural?”
“Come off it, Saul,” Gun answered with a chuckle. “I deal with matter, sure. But what is that? Invisible particles, waves, and force fields. Nothing solid at all. Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”
“You’re right,” Saul grinned, sucking his, “There’s no reality but the individual’s immediate sensations, his awareness. All else is inference. Even the individuals are inference.”
Cal said, “I think the only reality is number…and music, which comes to the same thing. They are both real and they both have power.”
“My computers agree with you, all the way down the line,” Gun told her. “Number is all they know. Music?—well, they could learn that.”
Franz said, “I’m glad to hear you all talk that way. You see, supernatural horror is my bread and butter, both mat Weird Underground trash—“
Bonita protested,” No!”
“—and the more serious junk, but sometimes people tell me there’s no such thing as supernatural horror any-more—that science has solved, or can solve, all mysteries, mat religion is just another name for social service, and that modern people are too sophisticated and knowledgeable to be scared of ghosts even for kicks.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Gun said. “Science has only increased the area of the unknown. And if mere is a god, her name is Mystery.”
Saul said, “Refer those brave erudite skeptics to my Mr. Edwards or Mrs. Willis, or simply totheir own inevitable buried fears. Or refer ‘em to me, and I’ll tell ‘em the story of the Invisible Nurse who terrorized the locked ward at St. Luke’s. And then there was…” He hesitated, glancing toward Cal. “No, that’s too long a story to tell now.”
Bonita looked disappointed. Her mother said eagerly, “But are e-strange things. In Lima. This city too. Brujas —how you say?—witches!” She shuddered happily.
Her brother beamed his understanding and lifted a hand to preface one of his rare remarks.” Hay hechiceria ,” he said vehemently, with a great air of making himself clear, “ Hechiceria ocultado en murallas .” He crouched a little, looking up. “ Murallas muy altas .”
Everyone nodded pleasantly as if they understood.
Franz asked Cal in a low voice, “What’s that hechi ?”
She whispered, “Witchcraft, I think. Witchcraft hidden in the walls. Very high walls.” She shrugged.
Franz murmured, “Where in the walls, I wonder? Like Mr. Edward’s pain-ray projector?”
Gun said, “There’s one thing, though, Franz, I do wonder about—whether you really identified your own window correctly from Corona. You said the roofs were like a sea on edge. It reminds me of difficulties I’ve run into in identifying localities in photographs of stars, or pictures of the earth taken from satellites. The sort of trouble every amateur astronomer runs into—the pros, too. So many times you come across two or more localities that are almost identical.”
“I’ve thought of that myself,” Franz said. “I’ll check it out.”
Leaning back, Saul said, “Say, here’s a good idea, let’s all of us some day soon go for a picnic to Corona Heights. You and I, Gun, could bring our ladies—they’d like it. How does that grab you, Bonny?”
“Oh, yes,” Bonita replied eagerly.
On that note they broke up.
Dorotea said, “We thank you for the wine. But remember, double-lock doors and close transoms when go out.”
Cal said, “Now with any luck I’ll sleep twelve hours. Franz, I’ll give you your key some other time.” Saul glanced at her.
Franz smiled and asked Fernando if he cared to play chess later that evening. The Peruvian smiled
In a lull in the conversation, Gun said to Franz, “That was really a very strange thing that happened to you on Corona Heights. As near as you can get today to what you’d call the supernatural.”
Saul heard and said at once, “Hey, what’s a materialist scientist like you doing talking about the supernatural?”
“Come off it, Saul,” Gun answered with a chuckle. “I deal with matter, sure. But what is that? Invisible particles, waves, and force fields. Nothing solid at all. Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”
“You’re right,” Saul grinned, sucking his, “There’s no reality but the individual’s immediate sensations, his awareness. All else is inference. Even the individuals are inference.”
Cal said, “I think the only reality is number…and music, which comes to the same thing. They are both real and they both have power.”
“My computers agree with you, all the way down the line,” Gun told her. “Number is all they know. Music?—well, they could learn that.”
Franz said, “I’m glad to hear you all talk that way. You see, supernatural horror is my bread and butter, both mat Weird Underground trash—“
Bonita protested,” No!”
“—and the more serious junk, but sometimes people tell me there’s no such thing as supernatural horror any-more—that science has solved, or can solve, all mysteries, mat religion is just another name for social service, and that modern people are too sophisticated and knowledgeable to be scared of ghosts even for kicks.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Gun said. “Science has only increased the area of the unknown. And if mere is a god, her name is Mystery.”
Saul said, “Refer those brave erudite skeptics to my Mr. Edwards or Mrs. Willis, or simply totheir own inevitable buried fears. Or refer ‘em to me, and I’ll tell ‘em the story of the Invisible Nurse who terrorized the locked ward at St. Luke’s. And then there was…” He hesitated, glancing toward Cal. “No, that’s too long a story to tell now.”
Bonita looked disappointed. Her mother said eagerly, “But are e-strange things. In Lima. This city too. Brujas —how you say?—witches!” She shuddered happily.
Her brother beamed his understanding and lifted a hand to preface one of his rare remarks.” Hay hechiceria ,” he said vehemently, with a great air of making himself clear, “ Hechiceria ocultado en murallas .” He crouched a little, looking up. “ Murallas muy altas .”
Everyone nodded pleasantly as if they understood.
Franz asked Cal in a low voice, “What’s that hechi ?”
She whispered, “Witchcraft, I think. Witchcraft hidden in the walls. Very high walls.” She shrugged.
Franz murmured, “Where in the walls, I wonder? Like Mr. Edward’s pain-ray projector?”
Gun said, “There’s one thing, though, Franz, I do wonder about—whether you really identified your own window correctly from Corona. You said the roofs were like a sea on edge. It reminds me of difficulties I’ve run into in identifying localities in photographs of stars, or pictures of the earth taken from satellites. The sort of trouble every amateur astronomer runs into—the pros, too. So many times you come across two or more localities that are almost identical.”
“I’ve thought of that myself,” Franz said. “I’ll check it out.”
Leaning back, Saul said, “Say, here’s a good idea, let’s all of us some day soon go for a picnic to Corona Heights. You and I, Gun, could bring our ladies—they’d like it. How does that grab you, Bonny?”
“Oh, yes,” Bonita replied eagerly.
On that note they broke up.
Dorotea said, “We thank you for the wine. But remember, double-lock doors and close transoms when go out.”
Cal said, “Now with any luck I’ll sleep twelve hours. Franz, I’ll give you your key some other time.” Saul glanced at her.
Franz smiled and asked Fernando if he cared to play chess later that evening. The Peruvian smiled
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