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“No, I don’t think so,” said Murray. “We don’t have a reader at home, anyway. Dad says we’ll buy one when I get to high school.” Grandpa Zalman shrugged and paid for the newstape, printed out by the store’s small tect console. As they left the store a CAS officer brushed by the old man. The. policeman scowled and shoved Grandpa Zalman out of the way.

“You guys ought to be more careful,” said the CAS man. “You ain’t got much time left, the way it is.”

Grandpa Zalman said nothing. He took Murray’s hand and walked off in the other direction. “The world is filling up with hoodlums,” he said at last.

“They don’t like you, do they, Grandpa Zalman?”

“No, they don’t like me. And they don’t like you, either. They don’t like anybody.”

“Is it because we’re Jewish?” asked Murray.

“No,” said Grandpa Zalman slowly. “No, I don’t think that has anything to do with it. Maybe a little.” Then they went home. Grandpa Zalman read his tectape, and Murray went out to play knockerball with his friends. Two days later the boy’s father took Grandpa Zalman to the public teletrans tect. Murray never saw his grandfather again.

But the old man had had his effect on the boy. In the guest room Murray found three fiches, which Grandpa Zalman had forgotten or left intentionally. Murray took them to school, where he browsed through them on one of the library’s fichereaders. They were the first fiches that he had ever had all to his own; they weren’t textfiches, but they weren’t picturefiches, either. One was a long collection of Jewish lore that Murray found fascinating. He wondered what had happened to all the curious laws and customs. He asked his mother, and she said, “They’re still around. Not here, but around. There’s still plenty of people like your grandfather. But they’re learning, slow but sure. The Representatives are doing their best for us, and it’s people like Grandpa Zalman who make it harder. They’re learning, though.” Murray was doubtful. It seemed to him a sad thing that all the old Jewish ways were being neglected.

As Murray got older he took more interest in his education. After he read the three leftover fiches, he explored the school’s library and saved his money to buy more. When Murray was fourteen he learned that Grandpa Zalman had died; Murray was filled with grief for the first time in his life. He felt that he had never thanked his grandfather for all the old man had shown him. Murray was determined to repay Grandpa Zalman, and to make some sort of memorial to the old man, whom Murray’s parents were gratefully forgetting as quickly as possible.

Tenth-year Tests were scheduled for Murray’s class in the middle of February; Murray had just turned fifteen. Through the first six years of his schooling he had seemed to be just another unexceptional student, destined for the army or the CAS work legions. But then, after his grandfather’s visit, he showed a sudden and dramatic improvement. Murray entered the Test room anxiously, unaware of the envious glances he drew from his fellow students. The Test lasted six hours, and he was one of the first to complete his tapes. The next day he was ordered to the office of the school’s master.

“Come in, Mr. Rose,” said Master Jennings. “Get comfortable. I have some good news for you.”

Murray relaxed. He always felt terribly guilty when he was called into the office, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. He sat in a chair opposite the master’s desk and waited.

“This afternoon TECT finished evaluating the Tenth-year Tests. You did very well yesterday, Mr. Rose. In fact, you finished first in our school. Congratulations.” Murray smiled; he was proud, and happy that in a small way he had repaid Grandpa Zalman. “More importantly,” said Master Jennings, “your score led everyone else in the district. This is the first time our school has had that distinction. Of course, you can understand how grateful we are for that honor. More to the point, though, is the reward you’ve won for yourself.”

Murray knew that the higher scores earned special privileges from the Representatives and TECT. “When you called me in,” he said, “I began to think that perhaps something special had happened. I’ve been hoping for a new fichereader.”

The master laughed. “You’ll be getting a lot better than that,” he said. “As a district winner, you’re entitled to a Mark VII tect unit, installed in your home. That comes with complete infotape, newstape, computape, and entertainment capabilities. Everything but the teletrans unit. Only the continental winners get the big one. And you’re still in the running for that; many of the other districts haven’t had their Tenth-year Tests as yet. The final winner will be announced next week.”

Murray was astonished. He would have his own tect, right in the house! That meant access to virtually every facet of TECT itself, except the data classified for security purposes. Of course, he’d still have to use the public teletrans tect facilities. But that was hardly a disappointment….

As promised, the continental winner was named several days later. It wasn’t Murray; he wasn’t at all let down, for on the same afternoon his own prize, the Mark VII tect, was installed in his house. His parents were proud and a little amazed. They weren’t imaginative enough to understand all that the tect represented. Murray stayed up well into the night asking the console questions, having it project pages of books on many esoteric subjects, playing games of go and chess against TECT’s Level Nine Opposition.

In the following years, of course, the unit helped Murray even further in his studies. He excelled in high school, and produced a brilliant score on his Twelfth-year Test. He was curious about what kind of prize he would win for that. Nothing was mentioned the next day. Murray was very disappointed. All through the final three weeks before graduation, Murray hoped that he would be called into Master Jennings’ office again. That did not happen, either. Murray graduated from school, receiving a huge ovation from the audience when he went to take his diploma. At home that afternoon, a message was waiting for him on the tect’s CRT readout. It said:

**ROSE, Murray S.   RepNA Dis9 Secl4 Loc58-NY-337

MI 54-62-485-39Min

12:48:36 9July 467 YR    ProgQuery    ReplReq**

**ROSE, Murray S.:

Results of Twelfth-year Test earn planet from list (following)**

**ROSE, Murray S.:

Accept?**

The tect’s Advise light was flashing, meaning that TECT had been asking for an immediate answer since quarter to one. It was now nearly four. He identified himself and the light went out. “Reply to 12:48:36 Query, 9 July, 467. Reply affirm.” Then, to be safe, he typed in yes after Accept?** on the tect’s screen. He had no idea what the real circumstances were, but it seemed to him that TECT was offering Murray a planet. The boy had never heard of such a thing. In a few seconds the promised list appeared:

**ROSE, Murray S.:

15:52:28 9July 467 YR    ProgCat**

**ROSE, Murray S.:

Choice to be made from current available planetary bodies**

      **Print list:

Lalande 8760 Planet C

Lalande 8760 Planet D

Tau Ceti Planet C

Wolf 359 Planet B

Struve 2398 Planet B

Struve 2398 Planet C

Struve 2398 Planet D

And so on. The tectscreen filled with hundreds of entries in TECT’s master star catalogue. But none of the planets were described; Murray, still not fully appreciating that he was being given an entire world, had nothing useful on which to base his choice. The list went on, ending at last with:

Walsung 832 Planet C**