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Science Adventure Stories, v. 1, issue 2, October 1938
Page 55
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55. The Curse Of Immortality *********************************************************** What his mind recorded was a handsome, well-proportional human with peculiarly expressive eyes -- eyes not discernable in any particular color, yet possessing a peculiar quality -- a quality of -- well, you might almost call it fear! The new arrival spoke first. He spoke in a full-toned, well-modulated voice. His piercing, well thought out message evidently calculated to deliver the import of his words clearly to the listener. "Gerald Curry," he began, "I will not bore you with details of my history you may or may not know. Rather I shall attempt to deliver unto you my point of view and hope that you are capable of appreciating its significance. Men know me as the Immortal. For eons have I existed, side by side with my fellow men. Watching, helping, advising, destroying as my superior judgement saw fit. For centuries I reveled in the thought that I was immortal, and that death was a thing that I might never fear. I was correct, only too correct in the intrinsic sense. No, I was never to fear death, but I had not supposed that I actually would welcome it. Curry, I am incredibly aged. More so than I dare say. I was already tired of life when Atlantis sank beneath the waves. For until centuries I had found it impossible to dwell in accord with other human beings. My infinitely superior superior knowledge brands them as low, utterly disgusting creatures that I cannot tolerate. The curse of immortality! How often has the phrase been used? That no one can say, but at least I know that the weak, ineffectual emotion-driven mind of man was able to foresee that immortality, far from being a priceless gift, could easily resolve itself into a hideous curse.
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55. The Curse Of Immortality *********************************************************** What his mind recorded was a handsome, well-proportional human with peculiarly expressive eyes -- eyes not discernable in any particular color, yet possessing a peculiar quality -- a quality of -- well, you might almost call it fear! The new arrival spoke first. He spoke in a full-toned, well-modulated voice. His piercing, well thought out message evidently calculated to deliver the import of his words clearly to the listener. "Gerald Curry," he began, "I will not bore you with details of my history you may or may not know. Rather I shall attempt to deliver unto you my point of view and hope that you are capable of appreciating its significance. Men know me as the Immortal. For eons have I existed, side by side with my fellow men. Watching, helping, advising, destroying as my superior judgement saw fit. For centuries I reveled in the thought that I was immortal, and that death was a thing that I might never fear. I was correct, only too correct in the intrinsic sense. No, I was never to fear death, but I had not supposed that I actually would welcome it. Curry, I am incredibly aged. More so than I dare say. I was already tired of life when Atlantis sank beneath the waves. For until centuries I had found it impossible to dwell in accord with other human beings. My infinitely superior superior knowledge brands them as low, utterly disgusting creatures that I cannot tolerate. The curse of immortality! How often has the phrase been used? That no one can say, but at least I know that the weak, ineffectual emotion-driven mind of man was able to foresee that immortality, far from being a priceless gift, could easily resolve itself into a hideous curse.
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