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datatime: 2022-12-02 04:37:05 Author:IsIBZbVm

Cornell sensed the meeting was over and rose to leave. The President stopped him.

And then came Spider Robinson.

The President sighed. "It will be quite a book. Well, Admiral, it's probably the best course, but let me talk to the CNO before I make a final decision. By the way, what was the name of that diver who was killed?"

Cornell sensed the meeting was over and rose to leave. The President stopped him.

Truth to tell, I don't remember if he sent in a manuscript through the mail first, or telephoned for an appointment to visit the office. No matter. And now he's off in Nova Scotia, living among the stunted trees and frost heaves, where nobody - not even short - memoried editors - can reach him easily.

The truth about the exploration of the Titanic's interior is that no human being has ever entered the sunken ship. Thus, the interior scenes, like the characters participating in the two expeditions, are totally imaginary. (However, there really was an 1898 novel called Futility, which uncannily predicted the Titanic's fate.)

Cornell sensed the meeting was over and rose to leave. The President stopped him.

"Sir," Cornell said softly, "Derek Montague had no living relatives."

Aaron Priest, agent and old friend, for his usual support, encouragement, and advice.

It is possible that Titanic buffs more expert than I will find technical lapses in this narrative. Yet this is a work of fiction based partially on fact, and I can only ask their indulgence toward one who shares their love of the great liner.

"Admiral, how about the next of kin for the other fellow who died? A similar letter might be in order."

Many times young science fiction fans would come to Manhattan and phone me from Grand Central Station, which connected underground with the good old Graybar. "I've just come to New York and I read every issue of Analog and I'd like to come up and see what a science fiction magazine office looks like," they would invariably say.

"Admiral, how about the next of kin for the other fellow who died? A similar letter might be in order."

He had, of course, expected whirring computers, telephones with TV attachments, smoothly efficient robots humming away, ultramodern furniture, and a general appearance reminiscent of a NASA clean room. (Our present offices, in the spanking new Conde Nast Building on Madison Avenue, are a little closer to that dream.)

He had, of course, expected whirring computers, telephones with TV attachments, smoothly efficient robots humming away, ultramodern furniture, and a general appearance reminiscent of a NASA clean room. (Our present offices, in the spanking new Conde Nast Building on Madison Avenue, are a little closer to that dream.)

Thomas "Speedy" Rice for valuable legal background on the rules of salvage.

I must pay special thanks to Jared Kieling, an editor of consummate skill, who detoured me away from many false paths as we explored the Titanic together.

The kid would shamble away, heartsick, the beautiful rainbow - hued bobble of his imagination burst by the sharp prick of reality.

Still, despite the cramped quarters and the general dinginess, we managed to put out an issue of Analog each month, and more readers bought it than any other science fiction book, magazine, pamphlet, or cuniform tablet ever published.

And then came Spider Robinson.

Still, despite the cramped quarters and the general dinginess, we managed to put out an issue of Analog each month, and more readers bought it than any other science fiction book, magazine, pamphlet, or cuniform tablet ever published.

"Admiral, how about the next of kin for the other fellow who died? A similar letter might be in order."

When Analog magazine was housed over at Graybar Building on Lexington Avenue, our offices were far from plush. In fact, they were grimy. Years worth of Manhattan soot clung to the walls. The windows were opaque with grime. (What has this to do with Spider Robinson? Patience, friend.)

Megan Hughes, Todd Ellerman, Joey Arone, and my incredibly patient wife, Priscilla Serling, for their aid with a word processor.

I must pay special thanks to Jared Kieling, an editor of consummate skill, who detoured me away from many false paths as we explored the Titanic together.

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