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Updated: June 14, 2025
Good that you answered one my questions, but too bad that wait, what made you finally answer one of my questions?" Kurt pondered this for a moment. "I don't know. I just got bored." The Lab Coat Man reached for his pen in order to mark an 'X' on his clipboard, stopped, and sighed.
One man was watching the balloon through a theodolite, an instrument similar to a surveyor's transit built around a 25-power telescope, one man was holding a stop watch, and a third had a clipboard to record the measured data. The crew had tracked the balloon to about 10,000 feet when one of them suddenly shouted and pointed off to the left.
She couldn't remember which element came next, but in Martian it was Sarfalddavas. Sorn must mean matter, or substance, then. And davas; she was trying to think of what it could be. She turned quickly to the others, catching hold of Hubert Penrose's arm with one hand and waving her clipboard with the other. "Look at this thing, over here," she was clamoring excitedly.
Only it'll be worse than Tranquil. Worse than Wisconsin!" "Arkansas?!" Rhonda shouted with disgust. "What's so bad about I mean, yes, Arkansas! Right in the middle of... of Hindsville! In Madison county. A dry county!" "Oh God, no!" Rhonda wailed. "Uncle Justin has the clipboard all ready... On the count of three? One, two..." "Stop! You win! It's Seltsam Way, the street behind the theater!"
Ritchie flipped through the clipboard one more time before placing it on the table between his recliner and his wife's rocking chair. "Did you find anything useful?" Betty asked, without looking up from her knitting. Tom and Alona sat across from them on the coach, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. "Did we ever look that stupid?" Ritchie whispered.
Cecil hopped down from the bed and peered from around the frame. A man stood in the hallway. He moved something in his hand, like a twig, but Cecil didn't want to play with it. The man smelled strange. New. Odd. If he could have recognized human clothing, he would have recognized a lab coat, a clipboard, a pen.
Sigger enter wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard a smirk borne of a thousand cut-throat departmental meetings perched cruelly on his lips. "Allow me," said the latest recruit. "Due to recent vacancies I was offered a post... tenure track, of course! Let me interrogate this capitalist." "I'm a capitalist," Denny said, sternly. "Oh yes, yes," Prof. Sigger replied. He turned to Kurt.
His legs suddenly felt limp, and his steadied himself against the wall. "It takes something out of you to work that precisely." Slowly, he moved toward the other chair and sat down. "When am I going to learn to do that?" Kurt asked. "If we had a clipboard, we'd start ASAP, but we're kind of screwed right now. Forrester's taken, along with his copy; Justin Nelson has another.
It was one of these, a young second lieutenant, who came hurrying in from the mezzanine, almost bursting with excitement. "Hey, Martha! Dr. von Ohlmhorst!" he was shouting. "Where are you? Tony's found the Martians!" Selim dropped his rag back in the bucket; she laid her clipboard on top of the case beside her. "Where?" they asked together. "Over on the north side."
As the bar hooted and laughed at the cartoon antics on the tube, Tom grabbed the clipboard, tucked it inside the man's trousers, and dragged him by his feet out of the bar. The Decision "It is far better to grasp the Universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring." Carl Sagan
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