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THE BURNING OF THE BRAIN 1. DOLORES OH I tell you, it is sad, it is more than sad, it is fearful—for it is a dreadful thing to go into the up-and-out, to fly without flying, to move between the stars as a moth may drift among the leaves on a summer night. Of all the men who took the great ships into planoform none was braver, none stronger, than Captain Magno Taliano. Scanners had been gone for centuries and the jonasoidal effect had become so simple, so manageable, that the traversing of light-years was no more difficult to most of the passengers of the great ships than to go from one room to the other. Passengers moved easily. Not the crew. Least of all the captain. The captain of a jonasoidal ship which had embarked on an interstellar journey was a man subject to rare and overwhelming strains. The art of getting past all the complications of space was far more like the piloting of turbulent waters in ancient days than like the smooth seas which legendary men once traversed with sails alone. Go-captain on the Wu-Feinstein, finest ship of its class, was Magno Taliano. Of him it was said, "He could sail through hell with the muscles of his left eye alone. He could plow space with his living brain if the |
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