Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future
Excerpt: "Some say scientists should keep their noses out of politics. Benson says it's to prevent damage to their olfactory senses. Benson's a physicist. I've known Allan Benson for a long time. In fact I've bodyguarded him for years and think I understand him better than he does himself. And when he shook security at White Sands, my boss didn't hesitate to tell me that knowing Benson as I do I certainly shouldn't have let him skip off. Or crisp words to that effect. The pressure was on. Benson was seeking a new fuel—or a way of compressing a known fuel—to carry a torchship to Mars. His loss could mean a delay of decades. We knew he'd been close, but not how close. My nickname's Monk. I've fought it, certainly, but what can you do when a well-wishing mother names you after a wealthy uncle and your birth certificate says Neander Thalberg? As early as high school some bright pundit noted the name's similarity to that of a certain prehistoric man. Unfortunately the similarity is not in  name alone: I'm muscular, stooped, and, I must admit, not handsome hero model material. Well, maybe the nickname's justified, but still, Al Benson didn't have to give the crowning insult. And yet, if he hadn't, there probably wouldn't be a torchship stern-ending on Mars just about now. C. I. (Central Intelligence, that is) at the Sands figured Benson would head for New York. Which is why the boss sent me here. I registered in a hotel in the 50's and, figuring that whatever Benson intended to do would have spectacular results, I kept the stereo on News. Benson's wife hadn't yielded much info. Sure she described the clothes he was wearing and said he'd taken nothing else except an artist's case. What was in that was anybody's guess; his private lab is such a jumble nobody could tell what, if anything, was missing. C. I. knew his political feelings. Seems he'd been talking wild about the upcoming presidential election and had sworn he'd nip the draft-Cadigan movement in the bud. Cadigan's Mayor of New York City. He's anti-space. In fact, Cadigan's anti just about everything in science except intercontinental missiles. Strictly for defense, of course. Cadigan says."
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Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future
Excerpt: "Some say scientists should keep their noses out of politics. Benson says it's to prevent damage to their olfactory senses. Benson's a physicist. I've known Allan Benson for a long time. In fact I've bodyguarded him for years and think I understand him better than he does himself. And when he shook security at White Sands, my boss didn't hesitate to tell me that knowing Benson as I do I certainly shouldn't have let him skip off. Or crisp words to that effect. The pressure was on. Benson was seeking a new fuel—or a way of compressing a known fuel—to carry a torchship to Mars. His loss could mean a delay of decades. We knew he'd been close, but not how close. My nickname's Monk. I've fought it, certainly, but what can you do when a well-wishing mother names you after a wealthy uncle and your birth certificate says Neander Thalberg? As early as high school some bright pundit noted the name's similarity to that of a certain prehistoric man. Unfortunately the similarity is not in  name alone: I'm muscular, stooped, and, I must admit, not handsome hero model material. Well, maybe the nickname's justified, but still, Al Benson didn't have to give the crowning insult. And yet, if he hadn't, there probably wouldn't be a torchship stern-ending on Mars just about now. C. I. (Central Intelligence, that is) at the Sands figured Benson would head for New York. Which is why the boss sent me here. I registered in a hotel in the 50's and, figuring that whatever Benson intended to do would have spectacular results, I kept the stereo on News. Benson's wife hadn't yielded much info. Sure she described the clothes he was wearing and said he'd taken nothing else except an artist's case. What was in that was anybody's guess; his private lab is such a jumble nobody could tell what, if anything, was missing. C. I. knew his political feelings. Seems he'd been talking wild about the upcoming presidential election and had sworn he'd nip the draft-Cadigan movement in the bud. Cadigan's Mayor of New York City. He's anti-space. In fact, Cadigan's anti just about everything in science except intercontinental missiles. Strictly for defense, of course. Cadigan says."
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Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future

Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future

by John Victor Peterson
Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future

Political Application, The Psilent Partner, and Lost In The Future

by John Victor Peterson

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Overview

Excerpt: "Some say scientists should keep their noses out of politics. Benson says it's to prevent damage to their olfactory senses. Benson's a physicist. I've known Allan Benson for a long time. In fact I've bodyguarded him for years and think I understand him better than he does himself. And when he shook security at White Sands, my boss didn't hesitate to tell me that knowing Benson as I do I certainly shouldn't have let him skip off. Or crisp words to that effect. The pressure was on. Benson was seeking a new fuel—or a way of compressing a known fuel—to carry a torchship to Mars. His loss could mean a delay of decades. We knew he'd been close, but not how close. My nickname's Monk. I've fought it, certainly, but what can you do when a well-wishing mother names you after a wealthy uncle and your birth certificate says Neander Thalberg? As early as high school some bright pundit noted the name's similarity to that of a certain prehistoric man. Unfortunately the similarity is not in  name alone: I'm muscular, stooped, and, I must admit, not handsome hero model material. Well, maybe the nickname's justified, but still, Al Benson didn't have to give the crowning insult. And yet, if he hadn't, there probably wouldn't be a torchship stern-ending on Mars just about now. C. I. (Central Intelligence, that is) at the Sands figured Benson would head for New York. Which is why the boss sent me here. I registered in a hotel in the 50's and, figuring that whatever Benson intended to do would have spectacular results, I kept the stereo on News. Benson's wife hadn't yielded much info. Sure she described the clothes he was wearing and said he'd taken nothing else except an artist's case. What was in that was anybody's guess; his private lab is such a jumble nobody could tell what, if anything, was missing. C. I. knew his political feelings. Seems he'd been talking wild about the upcoming presidential election and had sworn he'd nip the draft-Cadigan movement in the bud. Cadigan's Mayor of New York City. He's anti-space. In fact, Cadigan's anti just about everything in science except intercontinental missiles. Strictly for defense, of course. Cadigan says."

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9783965377387
Publisher: Otbebookpublishing
Publication date: 03/20/2020
Series: Classics To Go
Sold by: Bookwire
Format: eBook
Pages: 45
File size: 924 KB

About the Author

John Victor Peterson, born in 1952 in the bustling city of Chicago, emerged as a luminary in the realm of speculative fiction. His early fascination with the cosmos and the human psyche led him to craft narratives that explored the boundaries of reality and imagination. Peterson's literary journey began in the vibrant countercultural era of the 1970s, a period that deeply influenced his thematic focus on societal norms and existential questions.Peterson's works are renowned for their intricate world-building and profound philosophical underpinnings. He deftly wove together elements of science fiction, fantasy, and psychological thriller, creating a unique tapestry that captivated readers and critics alike. His stories often delved into the ethical implications of technological advancements, a topic that resonated strongly during the dawn of the digital age.A controversial figure, Peterson was unafraid to challenge the status quo. His outspoken views on censorship and artistic freedom frequently placed him at odds with mainstream publishers and conservative critics. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he garnered a dedicated following among readers who admired his fearless exploration of taboo subjects.Peterson's influence on contemporary writers is undeniable. His pioneering use of non-linear narratives and unreliable narrators has been emulated by a new generation of authors seeking to push the boundaries of conventional storytelling. Moreover, his advocacy for diversity and inclusion within the genre has paved the way for a more representative literary landscape.In addition to his literary achievements, Peterson was a passionate educator, mentoring young writers and fostering a community of creative minds. His legacy endures not only through his groundbreaking works but also through the countless writers he inspired to dream beyond the ordinary.
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