The Goliath Stone by Larry Niven, Matthew Joseph Harrington Page A

years we may be the definition of human.”
    They certainly could still be alive. “I’m not sure that’s better.”
    “Neither am I.”
    He was thinking very hard about what other effects there might be when May said, “Toby, do you want to have a baby?”
    “That’s undoubtedly an option,” he said absently, “but I’d rather it was you. —Ow! What was that—oh. Sorry. Distracted. Yes.”
    She seemed surprised at the swiftness of his answer, but said, “Oh. Sorry. Good. —At least we know I’ll be fertile.”
    “I’d say the neighbors know,” he said.
    She was already red, but flustering still showed. “Shut up ! I’m not that loud!”
    Holding his arm where she’d smacked it, he said, “Okay.”
    “Am I really?”
    “What?”
    “Am I really that— Oh shut up!”
    “Ow!”
    Abruptly she looked worried. “Toby, did that actually hurt?”
    In some surprise, he said, “No. I reacted to the noise.”
    “Good. I was afraid we were getting stronger too.”
    “I don’t think so,” he said. “Not by much, anyway. At the very least, our joints would need to be broader to avoid dislocating them. This skeleton is evolved for something that stood maybe four foot six and was malnourished to boot. It’s why—” He stopped, blinked, and went on, “It’s why I used to have back pains. The connections are holding things together, but they’re not pulling with us. Strictly human strength.”
    “Toby, a berserk can pick up a car .”
    “Yeah, but he’s ruined after— Oh, boy. Oh crap. They hold tissues together. And communication means they transfer energy. Like from one cell to another. What time is the weightlifting competition?”
    “Two more days.”
    “You read the whole program?” he said, startled.
    She looked thoughtful. “Apparently. I did page through it. These things are doing wonders for my memory.”
    Toby found that more worrisome than getting stronger. “That gives rise to some disturbing ideas,” he said.
    “Like?”
    “Like when I said cutting his head off might not kill him. They have to have kept his heart beating and his neurons firing when he was executed. If he’s got all his memories copied into the network, and the bleeding is stopped—which it would be—it could grow back.”
    May stared at him, visibly swallowed, and said, “ Who Goes There? ”
    “Yeah. He’s even got the rubber suit.”
    “He who the what?”
    Toby was surprised. “The first movie from that story. The monster was James Arness in a rubber suit. Later went on to play Marshall Dillon in Gunsmoke ?”
    May studied him for a moment, then said, “And you say Connors used to throw enough obscure references into the conversation to disturb you ?”
    Toby chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I learned about both those things from him. Checked out the show online. Given the social context it was well done. Good writing. The movie was kind of weak. First remake was okayish, but it was the second that was so good it was slapped with an NC-17 rating. Apparently somebody didn’t want kids thinking about how smiling helpful people might just be trying to take over your mind.”
    “I never should have dafiated.” She sighed. “There was just so much to do.”
    “Yeah. I don’t even know what…” He reflected. “I wonder what science fiction is doing these days? The real stuff, not Hollywood.”
    She grinned. “Infiltrating.”
    “More than it used to?”
    “Oh, yes. Pick up a romance novel sometime. In between the softcore there’s an awful lot of ‘Should I marry the rich heir to the local windmill farm or the honest older man who lost his money and his front teeth trying to legalize pulp conversion?’ Subversives never sleep.”
    “Three thumbs up. But I meant fandom.”
    “No idea.” She took him by the hand, led him around the counter and to the living room, and started up the screens.
    After a while, May said, “Well, not a lot of conventions in the U.S. Large assemblies of