The first time Mrs. Nagy ever noticed anything was at the beach when Derv was three. Had she known what to look for, she might have seen that he was that way from the start. But what mother ever measured an infant’s random moves and reverses around a crib or even a playpen?
Links to Gertrude Friedberg and her book:
Both his hands lay on the edge of the desk before him, as lax as vegetables. The left one showed its pinkish palm to the ceiling, with the creased lines that once, when he was a very small boy, had led a woman of half-French and half-Shango breeding to predict he would be a great hero. The other was turned to show its mahogany back, its tree-knot knuckles, as though poised to rap out a nervous fingertip rhythm.
It did not stir.
And so forms the description of a man, the president of a small and poor country in the midst of a futuristic and commercialized wealthy Earth. His back story of a war injury to the left side of his brain introduced by the fact that he could not move his right hand .
John Brunner, Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Brunner_(novelist)
They were in orbit, and it was over. They had crossed the void, leaped all the gaps of time and imagination, and bridged the unbridgeable, and they had been through the seven fires of hell. They were sane, although they had touched all the fringes of insanity. Continue reading