Common sense tells me there can be little doubt but that this
"manuscript," purported to be written by one Brian O'Shea, a soldier in
the Army of the Democracies in the year 1963, A.D., is a deliberate and
painstaking hoax.
Who is responsible for it, I cannot begin to guess. Somehow I
can't bring myself to believe that Dr. Edgar Winslow (whom I have
investigated and found to be exactly what he claimed, a fellow in the
psychology department of one of our nearby Southern universities) would
lend himself to such a fantastic trick.
But it is hard to believe, also, that Winslow could and did achieve the
perfect telaesthetic rapport evidenced by the foregoing pages.
But--there was an earnestness about Winslow that stirred me strangely.
He did not have the air of a man perpetrating a fraud. He asked me, you
will remember, to "play the game of caution," even if I did not believe
that which I found in the manuscript.
I should, perhaps, dismiss the whole thing with a shrug; heave the
"story" back at Winslow with the advice that if he wants to become a
science-fiction writer he should do so honestly, not try to insinuate
his way into print on the byline of another.
Yet--it is a queer manuscript. It is quiet here in Roanoke today. As
I write, I look from my office windows to see the rolling hills, now
sweet-breasted with fresh green, misted with the soft white of dogwood.
The sky is blue and clear, the sun a warm beneficence. Still, the
morning papers tell of the desperate plight of the Allies. Again they
have lost ground to a grim, mechanized Totalitarian army. Finland,
Norway, Belgium, Holland,--the list grows.
Mussolini has sent his restless legions to battle; Japan makes overt
gestures toward the Indies. Russia, the patient bear, crouches in the
north, watches ... and waits....
I don't know. I honestly don't know. The manuscript is probably a hoax.
And yet ... and yet....
Anyway, here it is, Brian O'Shea. Here is what you asked for. You'll
find it on the cover of this magazine. If this magazine is one of those
through which you still have to search, the world you mourn may yet
blossom anew.
And because covers, like man's freedom and dreams and hopes, too often
crumble into dust, the formula you want is printed here again, man of
the future.
C_{55}H_{70}O_{6}N_{4}Mg is the empirical formula for chlorophyll,
Brian O'Shea!
C_{55}H_{70}O_{6}N_{4}Mg!