To Carolyn Conger"What really interests me is whether God had any choice in the creation of the world."ALBERT EINSTEIN"Deep in the chaotic regime, slight changes in structure almost always cause vast changes in behavior. plex controllable behavior seems precluded."STUART KAUFFMAN"Sequelae are inherently unpredictable."IAN MALCOLMIntroduction:"Extinction at the K-T Boundary"The late twentieth century has witnessed a remarkable growth in scientific interest in the subject of extinction.It is hardly a new subject - Baron Georges Cuvier had first demonstrated that species became extinct back in 1786, not long after the American Revolution. Thus the fact of extinction had been accepted by scient
PERRY MASON-fighting attorney, who preferred being paid off as a sheep to being double-crossed like a lamb DELLA STREET-who was a faithful Girl Friday (also Sunday and Monday, if not quite always) EVA GRIFFIN-well groomed and well heeled, who was a phony HARRISON BURKE-Congressman, whose Duty to the People was to keep them from knowing he was mixed up in murder FRANK LOCKE-editor of Spicy Bits, who was Southern, but no gentleman PAUL DRAKE-who turned up some interesting information on Georgia peaches and sons of same SIDNEY DRUMM-who put himself out on a limb of the tree Perry Mason was up GEORGE C. BELTER-who got his money by blackmail, and who-naturally-got his...
DREAD THERE IS NO delight the equal of dread. If it were possible to sit, invisible, between two people on any train, in any waiting room or office, the conversation overheard would time and again circle on that subject. Certainly the debate might appear to be about something entirely different; the state of the nation, idle chat about death on the roads, the rising price of dental care; but strip away the metaphor, the innuendo, and there, nestling at the heart of the discourse, is dread. While the nature of God, and the possibility of eternal life go undiscussed, we happily chew over the minutiae of misery. The syndrome recognizes no boundaries; in bath-house and seminar-room alike, the
I would like to thank everyone who encouraged or tolerated me during this project. Thanks to Mark, who gave me the initial push to get started, Carol McCleary for seeing the potential, Bob Gleason and Greg Cox for many good suggestions and for pushing me to a new level, and to my wife, Gale, for hours of reading and rereading. Abby, Katie, and Bethany-this is why Dad sat at the puter all those hours. DRAMATIS PERSONAE OREGON Kenny Randall-Student at Oregon Institute of Technology, and a member of the group. Dr. George Coombs-Former professor of anthropology, now a chiropractor. Dr. Chester Piltcher-Professor of system science at Oregon Institute of Technology, and the leader of the gro
To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates. Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound Prologue False Angels JERUSALEM The wound was their path. Nathan Lee Swift sat strapped in the belly of the cargo helicopter with a dozen assorted archangels, looking down upon what little remained. The earthquake was visible mostly by what was no longer visible. Cities and villages had simply vanished in puffs of dust. Even his ruins were gone. The map had gone blank. The air was hot. It was summer. There was no horizon. The sands stretched into haze. He felt chained to the giant beside him, his former professor David Ochs. He had not wanted to leave, now he
THE RIDDLE HOUSEThe villagers of Little Hangleron still called it "the Riddle House," even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict, and unoccupied.The Little Hagletons all agreed that the old house was "creepy." Half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scar
Neither do they expect trouble with a cargo that is sewn up tight. Only a privileged few knew exactly when the Kruxator Collection would arrive in the country. That it was due to e to Britain was mon knowledge, and you had only to read a newspaper to discover that March 15th was the day on which the fabled group of paintings and jewellery were to go on display - for two weeks - at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The Kruxator Collection is called after its founder, the late Niko Kruxator, whose fabulous wealth arose from sources unknown, for he had arrived penniless in the United States at about the time of the Wall Street Crash in October 1929. By the time he died in 1977, most people th
IT WAS nothing out of the ordinary that Mrs. Barry Rackham had made the appointment with her finger pressed to her lips. That is by no means an unusual gesture for people who find themselves in a situation where the best thing they can think of is to make arrangements to see Nero Wolfe. With Mrs. Barry Rackham the shushing finger was only figurative, since she made the date speaking to me on the phone. It was in her voice, low and jerky, and also in the way she kept telling me how confidential it was, even after I solemnly assured her that we rarely notified the press when someone requested an appointment on business. At the end she told me once more that she would have preferred to spea