Free He Who Shapes by Roger Zelazny

sweater that was stretched mercilessly about the
    wine-keg rotundity of the man who now picked his way in their
    direction, deftly avoiding the strewn crutches and the stacked
    skis and the people who, like Jill and Render, disdained sitting
    in chairs.
    Render stood, stretching, and shook hands as he came upon
    them.
    "You've put on more weight," Render observed. "That's
    unhealthy."
    "Nonsense, it's all muscle. How have you been, and what are
    you up to these days?" He looked down at Jill and she smiled
    back at him.
    "This is Miss DeVille," said Render.
    "Jill," she acknowledged.
    He bowed slightly, finally releasing Render's aching hand.
    ". . . And this is Professor Maurice Bartelmetz of Vienna,"
    finished Render, "a benighted disciple of all forms of dialectical
    pessimism, and a very distinguished pioneer in neuroparticipa-
    tion although you'd never guess it to look at him. I had the
    good fortune to be his pupil for over a year."
    Bartelmetz nodded and agreed with him, taking in the
    Schnappsflasche Render brought forth from a small plastic bag,
    and accepting the collapsible cup which he filled to the brim.
    "Ah, you are a good doctor still," he sighed. "You have
    diagnosed the case in an instant and you make the proper
    prescription. Nozdrovia!"
    "Seven years in a gulp," Render acknowledged, refilling their
    glasses.
    "Then we shall make time more malleable by sipping it."
    They seated themselves on the floor, and the fire roared up
    through the great brick chimney as the logs burnt themselves
    back to branches, to twigs, to thin sticks, ring by yearly ring.
    Render replenished the fire.
    "I read your last book," said Bartelmetz finally, casually,
    "about four years ago."
    Render reckoned that to be correct.
    "Are you doing any research work these days?"
    Render poked lazily at the fire.
    "Yes," he answered, "sort of."
    He glanced at Jill, who was dozing with her cheek against
    the arm of the huge leather chair that held his emergency bag,
    the planes of her face all crimson and flickering shadow.
    "I've hit upon a rather unusual subject arid started with a
    piece of jobbery I eventually intend to write about."
    "Unusual? In what way?"
    "Blind from birth, for one thing."
    "You're using the ONT&R?"
    "Yes. She's going to be a Shaper."
    "Verfluchter!Are you aware of the possible repercussions?"
    "Of course."
    "You've heard of unlucky Pierre?"
    "No."
    "Good, then it was successfully hushed. Pierre was a
    philosophy student at the University of Paris, and he was doing
    a dissertation on the evolution of consciousness. This past
    summer he decided it would be necessary for him to explore the
    mind of an ape, for purposes of comparing a moins-nausee
    mind with his own, I suppose. At any rate, he obtained illegal
    access to an ONT&R and to the mind of our hairy cousin. It was
    never ascertained how far along he got in exposing the animal
    to the stimuli-bank, but it is to be assumed that such items as
    would not be immediately trans-subjective between man and
    apetraffic sounds and so weiterwere what frightened the
    creature. Pierre is still residing in a padded cell, and all his
    responses are those of a frightened ape.
    "So, while he did not complete his own dissertation," he
    finished,   "he may provide significant material for someone
    else's."
    Render shook his head.
    "Quite a story," he said softly, "but I have nothing that
    dramatic to contend with. I've found an exceedingly stable
    individuala psychiatrist, in factone who's already spent time
    in ordinary analysis. She wants to go into neuroparticipation
    but the fear of a sight-trauma was what was keeping her out.
    I've been gradually exposing her to a full range of visual
    phenomena. When I've finished she should be completely
    accommodated to sight, so that she can give her full attention
    to therapy and not be blinded by vision, so to speak. We've
    already had four sessions."
    "And?"
    ". . . And it's working fine."
    "You are certain about it?"
    "Yes, as certain