Bryce Walton

“ What if all us Workers who worship the Actors and Actresses up on Hollywood II stormed the Moon? Took a million rockets and all flew to the Moon! You are crazy, Andy. And think how wonderful the Sensory Shows are! Work a few hours a week, and the rest of the time you can live a beautiful life with actors and actresses who are so good they can make you believe anything."
"Not me," Andy said. "If a dream can't come true, it's no good. So I'm going to the moon, to Studio City; I'm going to find Glora Delar, in person." ”

“ Brooks' voice was loud. "A dream has to be possible to find in reality, or it's no good. That's where Personology's wrong. Dreams are no good if they can't come true; what good are wishes and hopes and ambitions if you can't find them except in a Sensory Show? Answer me that!"
"I—ah—" the pilot said.
"I'll answer it," Brooks shouted. "They're no good at all; they're bad. It won't last. People will revolt, or they'll rot sooner or later. Maybe I'm the first and there'll be more; maybe I'm the last and everybody'll rot! I'm in love with Glora Delar, see! Really in love—you understand that? ”

“ Once everyone was crazy, he said, running around in a daze, with fantasy and reality all mixed up. Made wars and criminals and neurotics, he said. Now we've got planned, legalized fantasy in the Sensory Shows. A man can be a big-shot on an imaginary world; he can have the support of the most beautiful actresses and actors. Now there's a definite time for dreaming, one for Working. Normally, one never overlaps the other."
"That's absolutely right, Andy; you should see that. I do."
"You're a shallow idiot," Andy said; "you're content to dream. I'm not; I'm interested in the real Glora Delar. ”

“ Andy said. "Fantasy and reality mixed up—that's what the Personologist Chief said. He said that always leads to inefficiency. Remember the axiom, Brooks, he said: No Worker Makes Mistakes."
"That's right, Andy. There's a place for dreaming; and there's a time for working. You kept on thinking about that Glora Delar, even after you got out of the Sensory Shows. ”

“ The World of Anghar. The Armies of Vasca. Our dream. I was holding the castle. Vasca's fleets were laying siege. I was guarding the seawall. How could it have gone on so long without you knowing? It was our dream. ”

“ No Workers; no Guards; no one in the gray utilitarian uniforms. Just Stars in their beautifully unique, individually styled garments. Just the silent children playing silently like figures moving in an old three-dimensional movie. ”

“ Brooks screamed. "He told me we'd all be crazy without the Sensory Shows. When you mix dreams up with reality, he said, that's insanity. What's more insane then admitting that the work we do is all we'll ever get out of life? That we can never know anything wonderful, anything we really want, in real life? Can you tell me what could be more insane than that?"
The pilot shook his head. Sweat ran down his nose.
"Don't move or I'll leave the neurotube on you long enough to kill you," Brooks shouted. "Because you don't understand."
"I won't move," the pilot whispered. "I won't try to stop you ”

“ The Guards came slowly toward him along the lake's edge. The swans glided unconcerned. Brooks screamed defiantly. As he fired at one Guard he threw himself to one side. The foremost Guard fell in silent paralysis. Evidently reflex action caused him to accidently discharge the meson blastgun. A blazing lethal flame mushroomed, and the green lawn crackled to black char in a long smoking swath.
Brooks fired again. The other Guard dodged behind an alien looking tree with orange leaves. Brooks ran wildly. "Glora—wait—"
She turned as Brooks ran past her. ”

“ A man walked with her. The favorite of millions of women who for some reason found Clifford Marlowe not quite perfect. Carl Brittain. In the People's Fan Magazine there had been hints that Glora Delar and Carl Brittain were more than just friends. Brooks had figured it as being more propaganda. ”