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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc667c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51773 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51773) diff --git a/old/51773-h.zip b/old/51773-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index dd929c9..0000000 --- a/old/51773-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51773-h/51773-h.htm b/old/51773-h/51773-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d7ae9a3..0000000 --- a/old/51773-h/51773-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1149 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Scent Makes a Difference, by James Stamers. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Scent Makes a Difference, by James Stamers - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Scent Makes a Difference - -Author: James Stamers - -Release Date: April 17, 2016 [EBook #51773] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="391" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE</h1> - -<p>By JAMES STAMERS</p> - -<p>Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine April 1961.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="363" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>What I wanted was a good night's sleep. What<br /> -I got was visitation rights with the most<br /> -exasperating pack of sleepwalkers in history.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>A fried egg came floating up through the stone steps of the Medical -Center and broke on my shoe. According to my watch, it was time for -the breakfast I didn't have that morning, so I waited a moment for the -usual two rashers of bacon.</p> - -<p>When they materialized, I hopped aside to avoid them and went back into -the building, where the elevator took me straight up to the psychiatric -floor, without asking.</p> - -<p>"Your blood pressure, salts, minerals, vitamins, basal metabolism, -brain pattern, nervous reflexes and skin temperature control are within -accepted tolerances," it droned, opening the doors to let me off. "You -have no clinical organic disorders; you weigh a hundred and fifty-two -pounds, Earth, measure six feet one inch, and have a clear pallid -complexion and an egg on your shoe."</p> - -<p>I walked down the corridor to Dr. Doogle Spacio-Psycho Please Enter -and went determinedly in.</p> - -<p>"Name, please," said the blonde receptionist, tapping her nail eroder.</p> - -<p>"Jones. Harry Jones."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Harry K. Jones, the physicist?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no," she said, fiddling with the appointment list, "Mr. Harry K. -Jones has just had his morning appointment and left."</p> - -<p>"I know," I said. "An important piece of clinical data has just turned -up. I have returned with an egg on my shoe."</p> - -<p>"I think you'd better see the doctor."</p> - -<p>I sat down to wait and took the little bottle of pills from my pocket. -"From the Galaxy to you, through Dr. Doogle, Spacio-Psycho," it said on -the label. "The last word in tranquilizers. Conservative Zen methods -only, appointments any hour, first consultation free, no obligation, -call personal transmitter DDK 51212-6790, Earth. Active ingredients -oxylatohydrobenzoic-phe-ophenophino, sugar, coloring to 100%."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The inner office door opened and Dr. Doogle smiled fatly at me from -behind his expensive desk.</p> - -<p>"Do come in," he called, "and tell me all about it."</p> - -<p>"It's happened again," I said, going into his office.</p> - -<p>"Well, why not, if you feel that way? Nurse, bring me Mr. Hing-humph's -case history."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Har-ry K. Jo-nes' film is in the transcriber, Doctor," said the -receptionist. "Mr. Jones, the physicist."</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, of course. Please sit down, Mr. Jones. Now what exactly is -the trouble? Hold nothing back, tell me all, reveal your intimate -thoughts."</p> - -<p>"The main entrance just served me the breakfast that your diet -forbids," I said, sitting down.</p> - -<p>"Plain case of wish fulfillment. Put it down to poltergeists, Mr. -Jones."</p> - -<p>"And what exactly do you mean by that?"</p> - -<p>"Well, now," Dr. Doogle said, drumming his fat fingers, "I don't think -we need to go into technicalities, Mr. Jones."</p> - -<p>"Look," I said firmly. "I came to you to get a quiet night's sleep. No -more insomnia, you said, leave your problems in the laboratory, let not -the nucleii banish sleep, work hard, sleep hard, take tranquilizers -and enjoy the useful recuperation of the daily wear on body tissues, -deep dreamless sleep of the innocent."</p> - -<p>He look at me suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"It sounds like the sort of advice I might have given," he admitted.</p> - -<p>"Well, at least I managed to keep my dreams in my head until I started -your treatment. I have an urgent problem to solve that vitally affects -national security. I can't have this sort of thing happening in the -middle of an experiment."</p> - -<p>I pointed to the fried egg on my shoe and shook it off on the pile of -his green carpet.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Well," he said, peering over the desk at it. "If you feel that -strongly, Mr. Jones, perhaps you'd better give up the diet and just -take the pills."</p> - -<p>"I want to know how it happens," I said, and I settled firmly into the -consulting chair.</p> - -<p>Dr. Doogle coughed professionally. "Of course, of course. You are an -intelligent man, Mr. Jones. One of our leading physical scientists. -Naturally you wish to know the precise mechanism of such phenomena. -Very commendable and entirely natural. Think no more about it."</p> - -<p>"Dr. Doogle, do you know what you are doing?"</p> - -<p>"Spacio-Psycho is still in its early stages, Mr. Jones. You are really -privileged to be a pioneer, you know. We have had some most interesting -results with that new tranquilizer. I hope you're not losing faith, Mr. -Jones?"</p> - -<p>"I accept the orthodox philosophy of Spacio-Psycho, it is only the -basic philosophy of Ch'anna or Zen, and I had the routine scientific -education, naturally."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Dr. Doogle with rapture, "the substratum of the universe is -no-mind, and thus all material things are in constant unimpeded mutual -solution. Ji-ji-muge, the appleness of an apple is indistinguishable -from the cupness of a cup."</p> - -<p>"And an egg on the shoe is the breakfast I didn't have," I said.</p> - -<p>"Here," he said. "I think those pills are sending your sleeping -mind down beyond the purely personal level of your own emotions and -subconscious cerebrations. Take these, in a little water, half an hour -before going to bed."</p> - -<p>I stood up and walked over to the door.</p> - -<p>"What are they?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Same as before, only stronger. Should send you right down to the -root of things. Pass quiet nights in no-mind, Mr. Jones, sleep beyond -the trammels of self, support yourself on the universal calm sea of -no-mind."</p> - -<p>"If these don't work, there'll be no-fee," I told him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I took three of the stronger pills that night, turned off the light and -lay back in bed, waiting for sleep to come and get me. The antiseptic -odor of the Medical Center recalled itself, but nothing else happened, -and I was still waiting to go to sleep when I woke up next morning. -No dreams of a breakfast I couldn't eat, no dreams at all. I had been -smelling the memory of formaldehyde and just slid off to sleep. I could -still smell it, for that matter, as if it were coming from the slightly -open bedroom window. I looked up.</p> - -<p>"Hallo," said the tall skinny man in a doctor's coat on the window sill.</p> - -<p>"Hallo yourself," I said. "Go away, I'm awake."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are. At least I assume you are. But I'm not."</p> - -<p>I sat up and looked at him, and he obligingly turned his head to -profile against the brightness of the window. He had a sharp, beaky -face that was familiar.</p> - -<p>"Haven't we met somewhere?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Certainly," he said, in a slightly affected voice.</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know your name," he said, "but I have a very important -post-operative case at present, and you keep charging around the ward -when you're asleep. I just came over, as soon as I could get a few -hours' sleep myself, to ask you to stop doing it, if you don't mind."</p> - -<p>"I've done no such thing."</p> - -<p>"You were doing it all last night, my friend."</p> - -<p>"I was not," I said. "I spent last night here in my own bed. I didn't -even dream."</p> - -<p>"Ah, that probably accounts for it. Tell me, do you take drugs, -tranquilizers, by any chance? We've had a lot of trouble with that. -They seem to cause a bubble in the sequence of probabilities and things -shift about. I've been taking a new one myself, while this case is on. -I suspect that although I'm dreaming you, I think, you are not asleep -at all. At least I wasn't when you made all that noise in my ward last -night."</p> - -<p>"No, I'm awake," I said. "Very much so."</p> - -<p>"I see. Well, I shall wake up soon myself and go back to my own world, -of course. But while I'm here, I suppose you haven't any advanced works -on post-operative hyperspace relapse?</p> - -<p>"Pity," he said, as I shook my head.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you have no information on the fourth octave of -ultra-uranium elements?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "Didn't even know they existed," he said. "I don't -believe they do in my probable time. What are you, a physicist? Ah," he -added, as I nodded, "I wanted to specialize in physics when I was in -college, but I went in for medicine instead."</p> - -<p>"So did I," I said, "medicine, I mean, but I never passed pharmacology -with all those confusing extraterrestrial derivatives."</p> - -<p>"Really?" he said interestedly. "It's my weakest subject, too. I'm a -pretty good surgeon, but an awful fool with medications. I suppose -that's how we got together. You won't come busting up the ward again, -will you?"</p> - -<p>"I'd like to be obliging, but if I don't dream and I don't know where I -am when I'm asleep, I don't see what I can do to stop it. It's not as -if I'm really there, is it?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He crossed his arms and frowned at me. "Look," he said. "In my probable -time, you're as much physically there as I am now in your time here. -I'll prove it. I know I'm asleep in the emergency surgeon's room in my -hospital. You know you're awake in your bedroom."</p> - -<p>He held out his hand and walked across the floor to me.</p> - -<p>"My name's Jones," he said.</p> - -<p>"So's mine," I answered, shaking his solid hand. "This must be a very -vivid dream to you."</p> - -<p>We smiled at each other, and as he turned away, I caught sight of his -reflection in the wall mirror beside my hairbrush on the cabinet.</p> - -<p>"Good heavens!" I said. "In a mirror, you look exactly like me. Is your -name Harry Jones?"</p> - -<p>He stopped, walked over to the mirror and moved about until he could -see me in it.</p> - -<p>"Harold K. Jones," he said. "You've got the face I shave every morning, -but I've only just recognized you. You're me."</p> - -<p>"I prefer to think you are me," I said.</p> - -<p>"So you did fail that final pharmacology exam, eh? And I didn't, in my -probability. Well, well. I must admit it seemed more probable I would -fail at the time, but I passed."</p> - -<p>"It was that tramp Kate's fault. She said yes too easily."</p> - -<p>He coughed and looked at his fingers. "She said no to me. And, as a -matter of fact, after I passed I married her. She's my wife."</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry. I meant nothing personal."</p> - -<p>"You never married?"</p> - -<p>"I never really got over Kate," I said.</p> - -<p>"I wonder what would have happened if I had qualified and then not -married her."</p> - -<p>"You mean what <i>did</i> happen—to the Harry K. Jones who passed in -pharmacology but did not marry Kate. He must be around in another -probability somewhere, the same as we are. Good heavens," I shouted, -"somewhere I may have solved the fourth octave equation."</p> - -<p>"You're right, Harry. And I may have found out how to get hyperspace -relapse under control."</p> - -<p>"Harold," I said, "This is momentous! It is more probable that -you-I and I-you will make a mess of things, but there must be other -probability sequences where we are successful."</p> - -<p>"And we can get to them," he shouted, jumping up. "Are you using -oxylatohydrobenzoic-pheophenophino?"</p> - -<p>"Something like that."</p> - -<p>"Three pills last thing at night?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Ever have foreign bodies materialize into your time-space?"</p> - -<p>"Several breakfasts," I said. "The last egg was yesterday, on my shoe."</p> - -<p>"It was Virginia ham with me, so I stopped dieting and increased the -dosage."</p> - -<p>"So did I," I said. "I suppose, apart from major points where a whole -probability branches off, we lead much the same lives. But eggs don't -dream. How did the ham get into your waking world?"</p> - -<p>"Harry, really! I have a tendency to jump to conclusions, which you -must control. How do you know eggs don't dream? I would have thought, -though, that a pig was peculiarly liable to the nightmare that it will -end up as a rasher—any reasonably observant pig, that is. But I don't -think that is necessary. Obviously, we are dipping down to a stratum -where things coexist in fact, and not merely one in fact and the other -in mind, or one probability and not its twin alternative. Now, how do I -get hold of the me that solved this hyperspace relapse business?"</p> - -<p>"And I the ultra-uranium octave relationship," I added.</p> - -<p>"Look out," he said. "I'm waking up. Good-by, Harry. Look after -myself...."</p> - -<p>He flickered, paused in recovery and then faded insubstantially away. I -looked around my empty bedroom. Then, because it was time to go to work -at the laboratory, I shaved, dressed and left my apartment, as usual.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Some high brass and politicians had been visiting the laboratory, -showing off to their females how they were important enough to visit -the top-secret bomb proving labs, and the thick perfume was hanging in -the sealed rooms like a damp curtain.</p> - -<p>"I wish they wouldn't bring women into the unventilated labs," I -grumbled to my assistant.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, Chief. If you can make this bomb work, they'll let you -build your own lab in the Nevada desert, with no roads to it. Have you -found the solution?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you when I have," I said. "But I do have a new approach to -the problem."</p> - -<p>And as soon as I could, I left the labs and went back to my apartment -downtown, took three pills and lay still, waiting for sleep. I could -not get the smell of that perfume in the lab out of my nose. It was a -heavy gardenia-plus-whatnot odor. I woke up in the middle of the night -with the perfume still clinging to the air. The room was dark and I -crossed my fingers as I leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp. If -mental concentration on all the possible errors in my work was the key, -the successful me should be here in the room, snatched from his own -segment of probability.</p> - -<p>I turned on the light. There was no one else in the room.</p> - -<p>"Hell," I said.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it just meant he, or that me, was not asleep, or was perversely -not using tranquilizers. Or didn't that matter? No, I controlled this -alone and had gone wrong.</p> - -<p>"Did you say something, Harry?" asked Kate, stepping out of the -bathroom and pulling the top of her nightgown into, I guess, place. -"Ooo, fancy dreaming about you. This is odd."</p> - -<p>I sat up and covered myself protectively in the bedsheets.</p> - -<p>"Look, Kate," I said. "I don't want to see you. I'm not your husband, -really. He's a pleasant fellow, I met him today, and he's not me. I -never became a doctor. No doubt you remember what I was doing instead -of studying."</p> - -<p>That was a mistake, for she came and sat on the edge of the bed and ran -her fingers into my hair.</p> - -<p>"I thought it was odd I should dream about my husband," she said. "I'll -believe you, because I don't know how I got here and you do look like -the Harry I used to know, before he went all high scientific surgeon -and no time for fun."</p> - -<p>She curved more fully than she had when she was eighteen, but there was -neat symmetry to her sine formulae, and she still had blonde hair. Her -perfume was the same as the one in the lab I had been smelling all day, -it was now reaching me at high amperage.</p> - -<p>So that was the key, the evocative power of smell association. I -sniffed deeply at the perfume in appreciation.</p> - -<p>"Like it?" Kate asked, wriggling.</p> - -<p>"Only for its scientific values," I said. "It suggests a most valuable -line of research."</p> - -<p>"I'm in favor," she said, and pressed me to the bed.</p> - -<p>"Your husband is coming!" I shouted, and it worked. She disappeared. -Presumably she woke up in her own probability time-space. And no doubt -Kate's reflexes by now were trained to snap her awake and away at the -suggestion that her husband was around. It was highly improbable that -Kate would alter much.</p> - -<p>I got up to make myself some coffee. There was no point in wasting -sleep without a plan. Clearly, I had to take the pills and fix the -appropriate smell in my mind, and when I woke up I would drag the -proper slice of another probability with me. And then I would interview -the me who had solved the ultra-uranium heavy element equation. And the -bomb to end all bombs would be perfected. The test was ready, waiting -for me to say, "Let's go, boys. We know what will happen this time."</p> - -<p>But there was, it struck me, the difficulty of finding the right scent -to evoke the right probable me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I collected all the toothpaste, deodorant, shaving stick, aftershave -lotion I could find in the bathroom and started on the toothpaste. I -inhaled deeply and lay down, with the first tube on my chest. But after -the coffee, I slept very briefly, and when I looked up there was only a -toothbrush on the carpet. It was not mine in this world and I had no -idea whose it was, or rather which probable me it belonged to.</p> - -<p>But at least this established the principle. The smell produced the -object—and, if I went deep enough in sleep, it would produce the whole -Jones.</p> - -<p>I dressed quickly and went out for a walk in the night air, breathing -deeply and memorizing every scent I came across. Then I went back to -the apartment, sniffed hard at the row of personal unguents, and lay -down to sleep.</p> - -<p>When I woke up, it was morning and the room was full of people.</p> - -<p>There were about a dozen of me, some wearing very odd clothes, some -scowling, others grinning unbecomingly, and some looking just plain -stupid.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="600" height="311" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Gentlemen," I said, standing up on my bed, "I am sorry to disturb your -dreams but a matter of vital consequence has made me call you all here. -I am Harry, or Harold K. Jones, and I became a physicist. I need your -help. Do any of you know anything about the octaves of elements beyond -uranium?"</p> - -<p>There was a babble, through which I heard chiefly:</p> - -<p>"The man's mad.... He says he's me.... Who are you, anyway?... No, -you're not. <i>I'm</i> Jones...."</p> - -<p>"Please, gentlemen," I said. "I don't expect we have much time -before some of you wake up in your own probability. You, sir, in the -armchair—yes, you in the tight pants—how about you?"</p> - -<p>"Me?" he said. "I'm Captain Jones. Third Vector Spacefleet. Engineer -rank. Who the galactic hellix are you, eh?"</p> - -<p>Even from the bed, I could detect the smell of sweat and grease from -his working uniform.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you took up flight engineering at high school?" I suggested.</p> - -<p>"Quite right," he snapped.</p> - -<p>An early deviation, obviously. I remembered being enthralled with the -arrival when I was a kid of the early space rockets, but my enthusiasm -was daunted by old Birchall, who made us stick to airplanes. Obviously, -his was not.</p> - -<p>"How about you?" I asked, pointing to the thinnest me in the room.</p> - -<p>"Penal colony on Arcetus," he said. "Eternal labor."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm sorry. I wonder which time—well, how many physicists are -there here, or physical chemists, or astronomers, or even general -scientists?"</p> - -<p>I walked around the room, detecting toothpaste brands A, B, C and -Whitebrighter, and a range of toilet preparations with manly odors -contributing to our popularity with friends, relatives, girls and -bosses, but no other physicist. Not a trace of research in my line. And -one or two of them were already showing signs of waking up elsewhere -and disappearing from the room.</p> - -<p>I was about to start tracing it back to the point when I abandoned a -medical career, and I could still smell the formaldehyde, when Dr. -Harold K. Jones appeared.</p> - -<p>"Look," he said, "I want you to keep away from Kate. Perhaps I didn't -make that clear yesterday.... Good heavens, where did you get all of -these me from? Does anyone here know anything about post-operative -hyperspace relapse?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Disgustedly, I saw that more than half of them did. Perhaps I should -have been a doctor, after all. The probabilities were heavily -represented in medicine. I sat on the bed and stared at my toes while -the doctors babbled excitedly together. I gathered that Dr. Harold K. -Jones had solved his problem, anyway.</p> - -<p>"Excuse me," said a thoughtful me in a very quiet voice. "I didn't want -to make myself obtrusive, but I did do a certain amount of research -on the theoretical possibilities of elements heavier than uranium. It -seemed to me they might go on being discovered almost indefinitely."</p> - -<p>"They are," I said quickly, "octave after octave of them. Tell me about -it, please."</p> - -<p>"Look," he said, "it was only an idea. I really specialized in -biochemistry, but we do use trace elements, and the formula I worked -out at the time was—let me see...."</p> - -<p>"Please try to remember," I said.</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, it was this," he said, and the strain of remembering woke him -up and he disappeared back to his own probability.</p> - -<p>"This was damned well planned, Harry!" said Dr. Harold K. Jones -enthusiastically. "I think we can save hundreds of people every year -now. I always knew I had it in me."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Jones," said Captain Jones of the Third Vector Spacefleet, -pushing himself through the crowd. "I've been talking to one or two of -the others, see, and if you have the galactic gall to disturb my sleep -again, I'm going to blast you. Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>"Perfectly," I said.</p> - -<p>"It's tricky out in space, you know. No hard feelings, but the fraction -of a micro-error and <i>poof</i>! You see what I mean. I must get a sound -sleep at stand-down."</p> - -<p>"Don't forget what I said about Kate," Dr. Harold K. Jones remembered -to warn me. "I know how to do it, too. And you can have an accident -with my instruments—easily."</p> - -<p>He disappeared. I watched as the others woke up and went, one by one, -even the felon from Arcetus, until they were all gone and I was alone -with dark thoughts on heavy elements. It was so improbable that I was -the only me who had worked on these lines, and very probable that if -two of us with similar minds did work on the same problem, we could -between us find the answer. Look at Dr. Jones and his hyperspace -relapse.</p> - -<p>Thinking of Dr. Jones made me think of Kate, and I fell asleep again -with the memory of her scent in my head, as if I were really smelling -it. When I woke up again, halfway through the morning, there she was in -my room. She was at least dressed this time, but she smiled familiarly -at me.</p> - -<p>"For God's sake, Kate," I said, "go back to your husband!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She began to cry. "Oh, Haroldkin," she said. "I'm so glad to see you. I -must be dreaming, because I know you're dead, but I've kept everything -just the way it was. Look—I haven't even touched your messy desk."</p> - -<p>"Are you sitting in a room?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"I'm in your study, Haroldkin," she said, surprised. "Can't you see?"</p> - -<p>"No, as a matter of fact, I can't."</p> - -<p>"Oh! Then I can throw out all these old papers?"</p> - -<p>"What old papers?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know, Haroldkin," Kate said. "You made such a fuss about -failing that silly medical exam that you never let me touch your desk -when you graduated in physics."</p> - -<p>"Physics!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Kate, throwing paper after paper onto the carpet. She made -sweeping motions in the air and dumped a mass of notes into her lap. -They appeared on her fingertips, but they stayed in existence when she -dropped them on the carpet.</p> - -<p>"How did I die?" I asked, bending down and thumbing rapidly over the -papers.</p> - -<p>"A bomb went off," she said. "I really don't want to talk about it. But -you were so <i>eminent</i>, Haroldkin!"</p> - -<p>I must have been very soft in the discrimination to have allowed that -revolting nickname, I thought, but it was clear from the papers I was -holding that I knew my physics. And there it was, printed in an issue -of the <i>Commission's Journal</i> that never existed in my time-space, the -whole equation I was looking for. It was so obvious when I read it that -I could not understand how I failed to think of it for myself—for my -own myself, that is.</p> - -<p>When I looked up, this probable Kate had gone. I wanted to thank her, -but the evening would do. Meanwhile, here was the ultra-uranium fourth -octave equation.</p> - -<p>I called the laboratory, read it off to my assistant, and told him to -get on with the test.</p> - -<p>"Right, Chief. I'll go down myself and give you a report when I get -back."</p> - -<p>I said fine and took the rest of the day off. It was the peak of my -career so far, and from the widow Kate's comments, it seemed as if -I had a great probable career to come. Of course, I would have to -redouble our safety precautions at the labs and it would be best if I -never went near the proving grounds. That other physicist me probably -made some error that I would avoid, being forewarned.</p> - -<p>By evening, I decided to try to locate that probable Kate again, to -thank her, and to find out exactly how that poor me blew himself up -with a bomb. With care, I recalled the perfume and also the musty smell -of the papers, for I did not want Dr. Harold K. Jones' Kate appearing. -Then I removed all other odoriferous substances from the bedroom, took -three pills and was about to lie down to sleep when my assistant -called to report on the test.</p> - -<p>"That you, Chief? What a success! We're made. Your name's in lights, -Chief! It was the most colossal explosion I've ever seen. It burned the -area like toast. It even smelled like toast, with a touch of ozone and -sulphur. Very strong smell...."</p> - -<p>"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop!"</p> - -<p>But it was too late. I could smell it clearly as he had described it. -And now the pills are working. How in the name of heaven am I going to -stay awake? Because once I fall asleep....</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Scent Makes a Difference, by James Stamers - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE *** - -***** This file should be named 51773-h.htm or 51773-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/7/51773/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Scent Makes a Difference - -Author: James Stamers - -Release Date: April 17, 2016 [EBook #51773] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE - - By JAMES STAMERS - - Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine April 1961. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - What I wanted was a good night's sleep. What - I got was visitation rights with the most - exasperating pack of sleepwalkers in history. - - -A fried egg came floating up through the stone steps of the Medical -Center and broke on my shoe. According to my watch, it was time for -the breakfast I didn't have that morning, so I waited a moment for the -usual two rashers of bacon. - -When they materialized, I hopped aside to avoid them and went back into -the building, where the elevator took me straight up to the psychiatric -floor, without asking. - -"Your blood pressure, salts, minerals, vitamins, basal metabolism, -brain pattern, nervous reflexes and skin temperature control are within -accepted tolerances," it droned, opening the doors to let me off. "You -have no clinical organic disorders; you weigh a hundred and fifty-two -pounds, Earth, measure six feet one inch, and have a clear pallid -complexion and an egg on your shoe." - -I walked down the corridor to Dr. Doogle Spacio-Psycho Please Enter -and went determinedly in. - -"Name, please," said the blonde receptionist, tapping her nail eroder. - -"Jones. Harry Jones." - -"Mr. Harry K. Jones, the physicist?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, no," she said, fiddling with the appointment list, "Mr. Harry K. -Jones has just had his morning appointment and left." - -"I know," I said. "An important piece of clinical data has just turned -up. I have returned with an egg on my shoe." - -"I think you'd better see the doctor." - -I sat down to wait and took the little bottle of pills from my pocket. -"From the Galaxy to you, through Dr. Doogle, Spacio-Psycho," it said on -the label. "The last word in tranquilizers. Conservative Zen methods -only, appointments any hour, first consultation free, no obligation, -call personal transmitter DDK 51212-6790, Earth. Active ingredients -oxylatohydrobenzoic-phe-ophenophino, sugar, coloring to 100%." - - * * * * * - -The inner office door opened and Dr. Doogle smiled fatly at me from -behind his expensive desk. - -"Do come in," he called, "and tell me all about it." - -"It's happened again," I said, going into his office. - -"Well, why not, if you feel that way? Nurse, bring me Mr. Hing-humph's -case history." - -"Mr. Har-ry K. Jo-nes' film is in the transcriber, Doctor," said the -receptionist. "Mr. Jones, the physicist." - -"Ah, yes, of course. Please sit down, Mr. Jones. Now what exactly is -the trouble? Hold nothing back, tell me all, reveal your intimate -thoughts." - -"The main entrance just served me the breakfast that your diet -forbids," I said, sitting down. - -"Plain case of wish fulfillment. Put it down to poltergeists, Mr. -Jones." - -"And what exactly do you mean by that?" - -"Well, now," Dr. Doogle said, drumming his fat fingers, "I don't think -we need to go into technicalities, Mr. Jones." - -"Look," I said firmly. "I came to you to get a quiet night's sleep. No -more insomnia, you said, leave your problems in the laboratory, let not -the nucleii banish sleep, work hard, sleep hard, take tranquilizers -and enjoy the useful recuperation of the daily wear on body tissues, -deep dreamless sleep of the innocent." - -He look at me suspiciously. - -"It sounds like the sort of advice I might have given," he admitted. - -"Well, at least I managed to keep my dreams in my head until I started -your treatment. I have an urgent problem to solve that vitally affects -national security. I can't have this sort of thing happening in the -middle of an experiment." - -I pointed to the fried egg on my shoe and shook it off on the pile of -his green carpet. - -"Yes. Well," he said, peering over the desk at it. "If you feel that -strongly, Mr. Jones, perhaps you'd better give up the diet and just -take the pills." - -"I want to know how it happens," I said, and I settled firmly into the -consulting chair. - -Dr. Doogle coughed professionally. "Of course, of course. You are an -intelligent man, Mr. Jones. One of our leading physical scientists. -Naturally you wish to know the precise mechanism of such phenomena. -Very commendable and entirely natural. Think no more about it." - -"Dr. Doogle, do you know what you are doing?" - -"Spacio-Psycho is still in its early stages, Mr. Jones. You are really -privileged to be a pioneer, you know. We have had some most interesting -results with that new tranquilizer. I hope you're not losing faith, Mr. -Jones?" - -"I accept the orthodox philosophy of Spacio-Psycho, it is only the -basic philosophy of Ch'anna or Zen, and I had the routine scientific -education, naturally." - -"Ah," said Dr. Doogle with rapture, "the substratum of the universe is -no-mind, and thus all material things are in constant unimpeded mutual -solution. Ji-ji-muge, the appleness of an apple is indistinguishable -from the cupness of a cup." - -"And an egg on the shoe is the breakfast I didn't have," I said. - -"Here," he said. "I think those pills are sending your sleeping -mind down beyond the purely personal level of your own emotions and -subconscious cerebrations. Take these, in a little water, half an hour -before going to bed." - -I stood up and walked over to the door. - -"What are they?" I asked. - -"Same as before, only stronger. Should send you right down to the -root of things. Pass quiet nights in no-mind, Mr. Jones, sleep beyond -the trammels of self, support yourself on the universal calm sea of -no-mind." - -"If these don't work, there'll be no-fee," I told him. - - * * * * * - -I took three of the stronger pills that night, turned off the light and -lay back in bed, waiting for sleep to come and get me. The antiseptic -odor of the Medical Center recalled itself, but nothing else happened, -and I was still waiting to go to sleep when I woke up next morning. -No dreams of a breakfast I couldn't eat, no dreams at all. I had been -smelling the memory of formaldehyde and just slid off to sleep. I could -still smell it, for that matter, as if it were coming from the slightly -open bedroom window. I looked up. - -"Hallo," said the tall skinny man in a doctor's coat on the window sill. - -"Hallo yourself," I said. "Go away, I'm awake." - -"Yes, you are. At least I assume you are. But I'm not." - -I sat up and looked at him, and he obligingly turned his head to -profile against the brightness of the window. He had a sharp, beaky -face that was familiar. - -"Haven't we met somewhere?" I asked. - -"Certainly," he said, in a slightly affected voice. - -"Well?" - -"I don't know your name," he said, "but I have a very important -post-operative case at present, and you keep charging around the ward -when you're asleep. I just came over, as soon as I could get a few -hours' sleep myself, to ask you to stop doing it, if you don't mind." - -"I've done no such thing." - -"You were doing it all last night, my friend." - -"I was not," I said. "I spent last night here in my own bed. I didn't -even dream." - -"Ah, that probably accounts for it. Tell me, do you take drugs, -tranquilizers, by any chance? We've had a lot of trouble with that. -They seem to cause a bubble in the sequence of probabilities and things -shift about. I've been taking a new one myself, while this case is on. -I suspect that although I'm dreaming you, I think, you are not asleep -at all. At least I wasn't when you made all that noise in my ward last -night." - -"No, I'm awake," I said. "Very much so." - -"I see. Well, I shall wake up soon myself and go back to my own world, -of course. But while I'm here, I suppose you haven't any advanced works -on post-operative hyperspace relapse? - -"Pity," he said, as I shook my head. - -"I suppose you have no information on the fourth octave of -ultra-uranium elements?" - -He shook his head. "Didn't even know they existed," he said. "I don't -believe they do in my probable time. What are you, a physicist? Ah," he -added, as I nodded, "I wanted to specialize in physics when I was in -college, but I went in for medicine instead." - -"So did I," I said, "medicine, I mean, but I never passed pharmacology -with all those confusing extraterrestrial derivatives." - -"Really?" he said interestedly. "It's my weakest subject, too. I'm a -pretty good surgeon, but an awful fool with medications. I suppose -that's how we got together. You won't come busting up the ward again, -will you?" - -"I'd like to be obliging, but if I don't dream and I don't know where I -am when I'm asleep, I don't see what I can do to stop it. It's not as -if I'm really there, is it?" - - * * * * * - -He crossed his arms and frowned at me. "Look," he said. "In my probable -time, you're as much physically there as I am now in your time here. -I'll prove it. I know I'm asleep in the emergency surgeon's room in my -hospital. You know you're awake in your bedroom." - -He held out his hand and walked across the floor to me. - -"My name's Jones," he said. - -"So's mine," I answered, shaking his solid hand. "This must be a very -vivid dream to you." - -We smiled at each other, and as he turned away, I caught sight of his -reflection in the wall mirror beside my hairbrush on the cabinet. - -"Good heavens!" I said. "In a mirror, you look exactly like me. Is your -name Harry Jones?" - -He stopped, walked over to the mirror and moved about until he could -see me in it. - -"Harold K. Jones," he said. "You've got the face I shave every morning, -but I've only just recognized you. You're me." - -"I prefer to think you are me," I said. - -"So you did fail that final pharmacology exam, eh? And I didn't, in my -probability. Well, well. I must admit it seemed more probable I would -fail at the time, but I passed." - -"It was that tramp Kate's fault. She said yes too easily." - -He coughed and looked at his fingers. "She said no to me. And, as a -matter of fact, after I passed I married her. She's my wife." - -"I'm sorry. I meant nothing personal." - -"You never married?" - -"I never really got over Kate," I said. - -"I wonder what would have happened if I had qualified and then not -married her." - -"You mean what _did_ happen--to the Harry K. Jones who passed in -pharmacology but did not marry Kate. He must be around in another -probability somewhere, the same as we are. Good heavens," I shouted, -"somewhere I may have solved the fourth octave equation." - -"You're right, Harry. And I may have found out how to get hyperspace -relapse under control." - -"Harold," I said, "This is momentous! It is more probable that -you-I and I-you will make a mess of things, but there must be other -probability sequences where we are successful." - -"And we can get to them," he shouted, jumping up. "Are you using -oxylatohydrobenzoic-pheophenophino?" - -"Something like that." - -"Three pills last thing at night?" - -"Yes." - -"Ever have foreign bodies materialize into your time-space?" - -"Several breakfasts," I said. "The last egg was yesterday, on my shoe." - -"It was Virginia ham with me, so I stopped dieting and increased the -dosage." - -"So did I," I said. "I suppose, apart from major points where a whole -probability branches off, we lead much the same lives. But eggs don't -dream. How did the ham get into your waking world?" - -"Harry, really! I have a tendency to jump to conclusions, which you -must control. How do you know eggs don't dream? I would have thought, -though, that a pig was peculiarly liable to the nightmare that it will -end up as a rasher--any reasonably observant pig, that is. But I don't -think that is necessary. Obviously, we are dipping down to a stratum -where things coexist in fact, and not merely one in fact and the other -in mind, or one probability and not its twin alternative. Now, how do I -get hold of the me that solved this hyperspace relapse business?" - -"And I the ultra-uranium octave relationship," I added. - -"Look out," he said. "I'm waking up. Good-by, Harry. Look after -myself...." - -He flickered, paused in recovery and then faded insubstantially away. I -looked around my empty bedroom. Then, because it was time to go to work -at the laboratory, I shaved, dressed and left my apartment, as usual. - - * * * * * - -Some high brass and politicians had been visiting the laboratory, -showing off to their females how they were important enough to visit -the top-secret bomb proving labs, and the thick perfume was hanging in -the sealed rooms like a damp curtain. - -"I wish they wouldn't bring women into the unventilated labs," I -grumbled to my assistant. - -"Never mind, Chief. If you can make this bomb work, they'll let you -build your own lab in the Nevada desert, with no roads to it. Have you -found the solution?" - -"I'll tell you when I have," I said. "But I do have a new approach to -the problem." - -And as soon as I could, I left the labs and went back to my apartment -downtown, took three pills and lay still, waiting for sleep. I could -not get the smell of that perfume in the lab out of my nose. It was a -heavy gardenia-plus-whatnot odor. I woke up in the middle of the night -with the perfume still clinging to the air. The room was dark and I -crossed my fingers as I leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp. If -mental concentration on all the possible errors in my work was the key, -the successful me should be here in the room, snatched from his own -segment of probability. - -I turned on the light. There was no one else in the room. - -"Hell," I said. - -Perhaps it just meant he, or that me, was not asleep, or was perversely -not using tranquilizers. Or didn't that matter? No, I controlled this -alone and had gone wrong. - -"Did you say something, Harry?" asked Kate, stepping out of the -bathroom and pulling the top of her nightgown into, I guess, place. -"Ooo, fancy dreaming about you. This is odd." - -I sat up and covered myself protectively in the bedsheets. - -"Look, Kate," I said. "I don't want to see you. I'm not your husband, -really. He's a pleasant fellow, I met him today, and he's not me. I -never became a doctor. No doubt you remember what I was doing instead -of studying." - -That was a mistake, for she came and sat on the edge of the bed and ran -her fingers into my hair. - -"I thought it was odd I should dream about my husband," she said. "I'll -believe you, because I don't know how I got here and you do look like -the Harry I used to know, before he went all high scientific surgeon -and no time for fun." - -She curved more fully than she had when she was eighteen, but there was -neat symmetry to her sine formulae, and she still had blonde hair. Her -perfume was the same as the one in the lab I had been smelling all day, -it was now reaching me at high amperage. - -So that was the key, the evocative power of smell association. I -sniffed deeply at the perfume in appreciation. - -"Like it?" Kate asked, wriggling. - -"Only for its scientific values," I said. "It suggests a most valuable -line of research." - -"I'm in favor," she said, and pressed me to the bed. - -"Your husband is coming!" I shouted, and it worked. She disappeared. -Presumably she woke up in her own probability time-space. And no doubt -Kate's reflexes by now were trained to snap her awake and away at the -suggestion that her husband was around. It was highly improbable that -Kate would alter much. - -I got up to make myself some coffee. There was no point in wasting -sleep without a plan. Clearly, I had to take the pills and fix the -appropriate smell in my mind, and when I woke up I would drag the -proper slice of another probability with me. And then I would interview -the me who had solved the ultra-uranium heavy element equation. And the -bomb to end all bombs would be perfected. The test was ready, waiting -for me to say, "Let's go, boys. We know what will happen this time." - -But there was, it struck me, the difficulty of finding the right scent -to evoke the right probable me. - - * * * * * - -I collected all the toothpaste, deodorant, shaving stick, aftershave -lotion I could find in the bathroom and started on the toothpaste. I -inhaled deeply and lay down, with the first tube on my chest. But after -the coffee, I slept very briefly, and when I looked up there was only a -toothbrush on the carpet. It was not mine in this world and I had no -idea whose it was, or rather which probable me it belonged to. - -But at least this established the principle. The smell produced the -object--and, if I went deep enough in sleep, it would produce the whole -Jones. - -I dressed quickly and went out for a walk in the night air, breathing -deeply and memorizing every scent I came across. Then I went back to -the apartment, sniffed hard at the row of personal unguents, and lay -down to sleep. - -When I woke up, it was morning and the room was full of people. - -There were about a dozen of me, some wearing very odd clothes, some -scowling, others grinning unbecomingly, and some looking just plain -stupid. - -"Gentlemen," I said, standing up on my bed, "I am sorry to disturb your -dreams but a matter of vital consequence has made me call you all here. -I am Harry, or Harold K. Jones, and I became a physicist. I need your -help. Do any of you know anything about the octaves of elements beyond -uranium?" - -There was a babble, through which I heard chiefly: - -"The man's mad.... He says he's me.... Who are you, anyway?... No, -you're not. _I'm_ Jones...." - -"Please, gentlemen," I said. "I don't expect we have much time -before some of you wake up in your own probability. You, sir, in the -armchair--yes, you in the tight pants--how about you?" - -"Me?" he said. "I'm Captain Jones. Third Vector Spacefleet. Engineer -rank. Who the galactic hellix are you, eh?" - -Even from the bed, I could detect the smell of sweat and grease from -his working uniform. - -"I suppose you took up flight engineering at high school?" I suggested. - -"Quite right," he snapped. - -An early deviation, obviously. I remembered being enthralled with the -arrival when I was a kid of the early space rockets, but my enthusiasm -was daunted by old Birchall, who made us stick to airplanes. Obviously, -his was not. - -"How about you?" I asked, pointing to the thinnest me in the room. - -"Penal colony on Arcetus," he said. "Eternal labor." - -"Oh, I'm sorry. I wonder which time--well, how many physicists are -there here, or physical chemists, or astronomers, or even general -scientists?" - -I walked around the room, detecting toothpaste brands A, B, C and -Whitebrighter, and a range of toilet preparations with manly odors -contributing to our popularity with friends, relatives, girls and -bosses, but no other physicist. Not a trace of research in my line. And -one or two of them were already showing signs of waking up elsewhere -and disappearing from the room. - -I was about to start tracing it back to the point when I abandoned a -medical career, and I could still smell the formaldehyde, when Dr. -Harold K. Jones appeared. - -"Look," he said, "I want you to keep away from Kate. Perhaps I didn't -make that clear yesterday.... Good heavens, where did you get all of -these me from? Does anyone here know anything about post-operative -hyperspace relapse?" - - * * * * * - -Disgustedly, I saw that more than half of them did. Perhaps I should -have been a doctor, after all. The probabilities were heavily -represented in medicine. I sat on the bed and stared at my toes while -the doctors babbled excitedly together. I gathered that Dr. Harold K. -Jones had solved his problem, anyway. - -"Excuse me," said a thoughtful me in a very quiet voice. "I didn't want -to make myself obtrusive, but I did do a certain amount of research -on the theoretical possibilities of elements heavier than uranium. It -seemed to me they might go on being discovered almost indefinitely." - -"They are," I said quickly, "octave after octave of them. Tell me about -it, please." - -"Look," he said, "it was only an idea. I really specialized in -biochemistry, but we do use trace elements, and the formula I worked -out at the time was--let me see...." - -"Please try to remember," I said. - -"Ah, yes, it was this," he said, and the strain of remembering woke him -up and he disappeared back to his own probability. - -"This was damned well planned, Harry!" said Dr. Harold K. Jones -enthusiastically. "I think we can save hundreds of people every year -now. I always knew I had it in me." - -"Listen, Jones," said Captain Jones of the Third Vector Spacefleet, -pushing himself through the crowd. "I've been talking to one or two of -the others, see, and if you have the galactic gall to disturb my sleep -again, I'm going to blast you. Is that clear?" - -"Perfectly," I said. - -"It's tricky out in space, you know. No hard feelings, but the fraction -of a micro-error and _poof_! You see what I mean. I must get a sound -sleep at stand-down." - -"Don't forget what I said about Kate," Dr. Harold K. Jones remembered -to warn me. "I know how to do it, too. And you can have an accident -with my instruments--easily." - -He disappeared. I watched as the others woke up and went, one by one, -even the felon from Arcetus, until they were all gone and I was alone -with dark thoughts on heavy elements. It was so improbable that I was -the only me who had worked on these lines, and very probable that if -two of us with similar minds did work on the same problem, we could -between us find the answer. Look at Dr. Jones and his hyperspace -relapse. - -Thinking of Dr. Jones made me think of Kate, and I fell asleep again -with the memory of her scent in my head, as if I were really smelling -it. When I woke up again, halfway through the morning, there she was in -my room. She was at least dressed this time, but she smiled familiarly -at me. - -"For God's sake, Kate," I said, "go back to your husband!" - - * * * * * - -She began to cry. "Oh, Haroldkin," she said. "I'm so glad to see you. I -must be dreaming, because I know you're dead, but I've kept everything -just the way it was. Look--I haven't even touched your messy desk." - -"Are you sitting in a room?" I asked. - -"I'm in your study, Haroldkin," she said, surprised. "Can't you see?" - -"No, as a matter of fact, I can't." - -"Oh! Then I can throw out all these old papers?" - -"What old papers?" - -"Oh, I don't know, Haroldkin," Kate said. "You made such a fuss about -failing that silly medical exam that you never let me touch your desk -when you graduated in physics." - -"Physics!" - -"Yes," said Kate, throwing paper after paper onto the carpet. She made -sweeping motions in the air and dumped a mass of notes into her lap. -They appeared on her fingertips, but they stayed in existence when she -dropped them on the carpet. - -"How did I die?" I asked, bending down and thumbing rapidly over the -papers. - -"A bomb went off," she said. "I really don't want to talk about it. But -you were so _eminent_, Haroldkin!" - -I must have been very soft in the discrimination to have allowed that -revolting nickname, I thought, but it was clear from the papers I was -holding that I knew my physics. And there it was, printed in an issue -of the _Commission's Journal_ that never existed in my time-space, the -whole equation I was looking for. It was so obvious when I read it that -I could not understand how I failed to think of it for myself--for my -own myself, that is. - -When I looked up, this probable Kate had gone. I wanted to thank her, -but the evening would do. Meanwhile, here was the ultra-uranium fourth -octave equation. - -I called the laboratory, read it off to my assistant, and told him to -get on with the test. - -"Right, Chief. I'll go down myself and give you a report when I get -back." - -I said fine and took the rest of the day off. It was the peak of my -career so far, and from the widow Kate's comments, it seemed as if -I had a great probable career to come. Of course, I would have to -redouble our safety precautions at the labs and it would be best if I -never went near the proving grounds. That other physicist me probably -made some error that I would avoid, being forewarned. - -By evening, I decided to try to locate that probable Kate again, to -thank her, and to find out exactly how that poor me blew himself up -with a bomb. With care, I recalled the perfume and also the musty smell -of the papers, for I did not want Dr. Harold K. Jones' Kate appearing. -Then I removed all other odoriferous substances from the bedroom, took -three pills and was about to lie down to sleep when my assistant -called to report on the test. - -"That you, Chief? What a success! We're made. Your name's in lights, -Chief! It was the most colossal explosion I've ever seen. It burned the -area like toast. It even smelled like toast, with a touch of ozone and -sulphur. Very strong smell...." - -"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop!" - -But it was too late. I could smell it clearly as he had described it. -And now the pills are working. How in the name of heaven am I going to -stay awake? Because once I fall asleep.... - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Scent Makes a Difference, by James Stamers - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCENT MAKES A DIFFERENCE *** - -***** This file should be named 51773.txt or 51773.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/7/51773/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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