A Sound Of Thunder Pdf
This story was written right after World State of war Ii by Ray Bradbury, and presented here nether Commodity 22 of Prc'due south Copyright Law.
"A Audio of Thunder" is a scientific discipline fiction short story by Ray Bradbury, start published in Collier'due south magazine in the June 28, 1952, issue and Bradbury'southward collection The Golden Apples of the Sun in 1953.
Ray Bradberry is one of my personal heroes and his writings greatly influenced me in ways that I am but merely now beginning to sympathize.
Introduction
"There was this fence where nosotros pressed our faces and felt the wind turn warm and held to the argue and forgot who we were or where we came from but dreamed of who we might be and where we might go…" R is for Rocket Ray Bradbury
For years I had amassed a well worn, and dusty collection of Ray Bradbury paperbacks that I would pick upwardly and read for pleasure and inspiration. Later, when I left the United States, and moved to China, I had to leave my treasured books backside. Sigh.
It is very hard to come up across Ray Bradbury books in China. When always I discover i, I certainly snatch it up. Cost is no object when it comes to these masterpieces. At one time, I must take had five books containing this story.
I have institute this version of the story "A Sound of Thunder" on the Ray Bradbury library portal in Russia, and I have copied it here exactly as found. Credit to the wonderful people at the Ray Bradbury Library for posting it where a smuck similar myself tin can read it inside China. And, of course, credit to the nifty master; Ray Bradbury for providing this work of fine art for our inspiration and pleasance.
Total Text
Here is the full text of the masterpiece. I will let the reader read it and bask information technology.
A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury The sign on the wall seemed to quaver nether a motion-picture show of sliding warm water. Eckels felt his eyelids blink over his stare, and the sign burned in this momentary darkness:
Fourth dimension SAFARI, INC.
SAFARIS TO Whatsoever Twelvemonth IN THE Past.
YOU Proper name THE Animate being.
WE TAKE YOU THERE.
Y'all SHOOT IT.
Warm phlegm gathered in Eckels' pharynx; he swallowed and pushed it down. The muscles effectually his mouth formed a smile equally he put his hand slowly out upon the air, and in that hand waved a check for 10 thousand dollars to the man backside the desk-bound. "Does this safari guarantee I come back alive?" "We guarantee zero," said the official, "except the dinosaurs." He turned. "This is Mr. Travis, your Safari Guide in the Past. He'll tell yous what and where to shoot. If he says no shooting, no shooting. If y'all disobey instructions, there's a potent penalty of some other x m dollars, plus possible regime action, on your return." Eckels glanced across the vast office at a mass and tangle, a snaking and humming of wires and steel boxes, at an aurora that flickered now orange, now silver, at present bluish. At that place was a audio like a gigantic bonfire burning all of Time, all the years and all the parchment calendars, all the hours piled loftier and set aglow. A bear on of the hand and this burning would, on the instant, beautifully reverse itself. Eckels remembered the wording in the advertisements to the alphabetic character. Out of chars and ashes, out of dust and coals, like aureate salamanders, the onetime years, the green years, might leap; roses sweeten the air, white hair plough Irish-blackness, wrinkles vanish; all, everything fly dorsum to seed, flee expiry, rush down to their beginnings, suns rise in western skies and set in glorious easts, moons eat themselves opposite to the custom, all and everything cupping i in another like Chinese boxes, rabbits into hats, all and everything returning to the fresh death, the seed death, the green death, to the time before the beginning. A touch of a hand might do it, the merest touch of a hand. "Unbelievable." Eckels breathed, the light of the Car on his thin face. "A real Time Machine." He shook his head. "Makes y'all think, If the election had gone badly yesterday, I might be hither now running away from the results. Thank God Keith won. He'll brand a fine President of the United states of america." "Yeah," said the man behind the desk. "We're lucky. If Deutscher had gotten in, nosotros'd have the worst kind of dictatorship. In that location's an anti everything human for you, a militarist, anti-Christ, anti-human being, anti-intellectual. People called u.s.a. upwardly, you know, joking but non joking. Said if Deutscher became President they wanted to get alive in 1492. Of class information technology'south non our business to carry Escapes, but to form Safaris. Anyway, Keith's President now. All you lot got to worry about is-" "Shooting my dinosaur," Eckels finished it for him. "A Tyrannosaurus Rex. The Tyrant Cadger, the most incredible monster in history. Sign this release. Anything happens to you lot, we're non responsible. Those dinosaurs are hungry." Eckels flushed angrily. "Trying to scare me!" "Bluntly, yes. We don't want anyone going who'll panic at the first shot. Six Safari leaders were killed last year, and a dozen hunters. Nosotros're here to give you the severest thrill a real hunter e'er asked for. Traveling you back sixty meg years to pocketbook the biggest game in all of Time. Your personal check'due south still there. Tear it up."Mr. Eckels looked at the check. His fingers twitched. "Good luck," said the man behind the desk. "Mr. Travis, he's all yours." They moved silently across the room, taking their guns with them, toward the Machine, toward the argent metallic and the roaring light. Commencement a day and and then a night and then a day then a night, then information technology was mean solar day-night-day-night. A week, a calendar month, a twelvemonth, a decade! A.D. 2055. A.D. 2019. 1999! 1957! Gone! The Machine roared. They put on their oxygen helmets and tested the intercoms. Eckels swayed on the padded seat, his confront pale, his jaw strong. He felt the trembling in his artillery and he looked down and found his hands tight on the new rifle. In that location were four other men in the Car. Travis, the Safari Leader, his assistant, Lesperance, and two other hunters, Billings and Kramer. They sat looking at each other, and the years blazed around them. "Can these guns get a dinosaur cold?" Eckels felt his mouth proverb. "If you hitting them right," said Travis on the helmet radio. "Some dinosaurs have two brains, i in the head, another far downward the spinal column. We stay away from those. That'southward stretching luck. Put your first two shots into the eyes, if you can, bullheaded them, and get back into the brain." The Machine howled. Time was a flick run backward. Suns fled and 10 million moons fled subsequently them. "Retrieve," said Eckels. "Every hunter that ever lived would envy the states today. This makes Africa seem similar Illinois." The Machine slowed; its scream fell to a murmur. The Car stopped. The lord's day stopped in the heaven. The fog that had enveloped the Machine blew away and they were in an old time, a very old time indeed, iii hunters and ii Safari Heads with their blue metal guns across their knees. "Christ isn't built-in all the same," said Travis, "Moses has non gone to the mountains to talk with God. The Pyramids are still in the earth, waiting to be cutting out and put upwardly. Remember that. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, Hitler-none of them exists." The man nodded. "That" - Mr. Travis pointed - "is the jungle of sixty one thousand thousand two 1000 and fifty-v years before President Keith." He indicated a metal path that struck off into green wilderness, over streaming swamp, amid giant ferns and palms. "And that," he said, "is the Path, laid by Time Safari for your employ, Information technology floats vi inches to a higher place the globe. Doesn't affect and then much as one grass blade, bloom, or tree. It's an anti-gravity metal. Its purpose is to keep y'all from touching this world of the past in whatsoever way. Stay on the Path. Don't become off it. I repeat. Don't get off. For whatsoever reason! If yous fall off, there's a penalty. And don't shoot any brute we don't okay." "Why?" asked Eckels. They sat in the aboriginal wilderness. Far birds' cries blew on a wind, and the aroma of tar and an erstwhile table salt sea, moist grasses, and flowers the colour of blood. "We don't want to change the Future. We don't belong here in the Past. The regime doesn't like us here. Nosotros take to pay large graft to keep our franchise. A Time Auto is finicky business. Not knowing information technology, we might kill an of import animate being, a small bird, a roach, a flower even, thus destroying an of import link in a growing species." "That'due south non articulate," said Eckels. "All right," Travis continued, "say nosotros accidentally kill one mouse here. That means all the future families of this one particular mouse are destroyed, right?" "Right" "And all the families of the families of the families of that one mouse! With a stamp of your foot, you annihilate outset one, then a dozen, and then a thousand, a million, a billion possible mice!" "So they're dead," said Eckels. "So what?" "Then what?" Travis snorted quietly. "Well, what well-nigh the foxes that'll need those mice to survive? For want of 10 mice, a flim-flam dies. For want of ten foxes a king of beasts starves. For desire of a lion, all manner of insects, vultures, space billions of life forms are thrown into anarchy and destruction. Eventually information technology all boils down to this: 50-9 million years later, a caveman, i of a dozen on the entire world, goes hunting wild boar or saber-toothed tiger for nutrient. Merely you, friend, have stepped on all the tigers in that region. By stepping on one single mouse. Then the caveman starves. And the caveman, please note, is not but whatever expendable human, no! He is an entire futurity nation. From his loins would take sprung ten sons. From their loins one hundred sons, and thus onward to a civilization. Destroy this one human being, and you destroy a race, a people, an unabridged history of life. It is comparable to slaying some of Adam's grandchildren. The stomp of your pes, on i mouse, could start an convulsion, the furnishings of which could shake our world and destinies downwards through Time, to their very foundations. With the death of that i caveman, a billion others all the same unborn are throttled in the womb. Perhaps Rome never rises on its 7 hills. Maybe Europe is forever a night forest, and only Asia waxes good for you and teeming. Footstep on a mouse and you crush the Pyramids. Step on a mouse and you get out your print, like a Yard Canyon, across Eternity. Queen Elizabeth might never be built-in, Washington might non cross the Delaware, in that location might never be a United States at all. And so be conscientious. Stay on the Path. Never pace off!" "I meet," said Eckels. "And then it wouldn't pay for u.s. even to bear upon the grass?" "Correct. Crushing certain plants could add together upward infinitesimally. A little error here would multiply in sixty 1000000 years, all out of proportion. Of grade perhaps our theory is wrong. Mayhap Time can't be inverse by u.s.a.. Or maybe it can be changed only in little subtle ways. A dead mouse here makes an insect imbalance there, a population disproportion later, a bad harvest further on, a depression, mass starvation, and finally, a modify in social temperament in far-flung countries. Something much more subtle, like that. Perhaps only a soft breath, a whisper, a hair, pollen on the air, such a slight, slight change that unless you looked shut y'all wouldn't come across it. Who knows? Who actually tin can say he knows? We don't know. We're guessing. But until we do know for certain whether our messing around in Fourth dimension can make a large roar or a little rustle in history, we're being careful. This Car, this Path, your clothing and bodies, were sterilized, as yous know, before the journey. Nosotros clothing these oxygen helmets so nosotros can't innovate our bacteria into an ancient atmosphere." "How do nosotros know which animals to shoot?" "They're marked with red pigment," said Travis. "Today, before our journey, nosotros sent Lesperance hither dorsum with the Automobile. He came to this particular era and followed certain animals." "Studying them?" "Right," said Lesperance. "I track them through their entire existence, noting which of them lives longest. Very few. How many times they mate. Not often. Life'due south short, When I discover one that's going to die when a tree falls on him, or one that drowns in a tar pit, I note the exact hr, infinitesimal, and 2nd. I shoot a paint bomb. It leaves a ruddy patch on his side. Nosotros tin can't miss it. Then I correlate our inflow in the By and so that nosotros meet the Monster not more two minutes before he would have died anyway. This way, nosotros kill only animals with no hereafter, that are never going to mate once more. Yous see how careful we are?" "But if you come dorsum this morn in Fourth dimension," said Eckels eagerly, you must've bumped into us, our Safari! How did it turn out? Was it successful? Did all of u.s.a. go through-alive?" Travis and Lesperance gave each other a look. "That'd be a paradox," said the latter. "Fourth dimension doesn't permit that sort of mess-a homo coming together himself. When such occasions threaten, Fourth dimension steps bated. Like an airplane hit an air pocket. Y'all felt the Motorcar jump merely before we stopped? That was us passing ourselves on the way back to the Future. We saw cypher. There'southward no manner of telling if this expedition was a success, if we got our monster, or whether all of the states - meaning yous, Mr. Eckels - got out alive." Eckels smiled palely. "Cutting that," said Travis sharply. "Everyone on his feet!" They were ready to exit the Auto. The jungle was loftier and the jungle was broad and the jungle was the entire world forever and forever. Sounds similar music and sounds like flying tents filled the sky, and those were pterodactyls soaring with cavernous gray wings, gigantic bats of delirium and night fever. Eckels, counterbalanced on the narrow Path, aimed his rifle playfully. "Terminate that!" said Travis. "Don't even aim for fun, blast you! If your guns should go off - - " Eckels flushed. "Where's our Tyrannosaurus?" Lesperance checked his wristwatch. "Up ahead, We'll bisect his trail in sixty seconds. Look for the scarlet paint! Don't shoot till we give the word. Stay on the Path. Stay on the Path!" They moved forward in the current of air of morning. "Foreign," murmured Eckels. "Upwards ahead, lx million years, Election Twenty-four hour period over. Keith made President. Anybody jubilant. And here we are, a million years lost, and they don't exist. The things we worried about for months, a lifetime, non even born or thought of nonetheless." "Safety catches off, everyone!" ordered Travis. "You, starting time shot, Eckels. Second, Billings, Third, Kramer." "I've hunted tiger, wild boar, buffalo, elephant, but now, this is it," said Eckels. "I'grand shaking like a child." "Ah," said Travis. Everyone stopped. Travis raised his manus. "Ahead," he whispered. "In the mist. In that location he is. There's His Regal Majesty now." The jungle was broad and full of twitterings, rustlings, murmurs, and sighs. Suddenly it all ceased, as if someone had shut a door. Silence. A sound of thunder. Out of the mist, one hundred yards away, came Tyrannosaurus Rex. "Information technology," whispered Eckels. "It...... "Sh!" It came on great oiled, resilient, striding legs. Information technology towered thirty feet above one-half of the trees, a neat evil god, folding its delicate watchmaker's claws shut to its oily reptilian chest. Each lower leg was a piston, a thousand pounds of white bone, sunk in thick ropes of musculus, sheathed over in a gleam of pebbled skin like the mail of a terrible warrior. Each thigh was a ton of meat, ivory, and steel mesh. And from the corking breathing cage of the upper body those two fragile arms dangled out forepart, arms with hands which might selection upward and examine men similar toys, while the ophidian cervix coiled. And the head itself, a ton of sculptured stone, lifted easily upon the heaven. Its mouth gaped, exposing a fence of teeth like daggers. Its eyes rolled, ostrich eggs, empty of all expression save hunger. It closed its mouth in a expiry grin. It ran, its pelvic basic crushing aside trees and bushes, its taloned anxiety clawing damp earth, leaving prints 6 inches deep wherever it settled its weight. It ran with a gliding ballet step, far too poised and balanced for its 10 tons. It moved into a sunlit area warily, its beautifully reptilian easily feeling the air. "Why, why," Eckels twitched his mouth. "It could reach upward and grab the moon." "Sh!" Travis jerked angrily. "He hasn't seen us notwithstanding." "It can't exist killed," Eckels pronounced this verdict quietly, as if there could be no argument. He had weighed the testify and this was his considered opinion. The rifle in his hands seemed a cap gun. "We were fools to come. This is impossible." "Shut upwards!" hissed Travis. "Nightmare." "Plow effectually," commanded Travis. "Walk quietly to the Machine. Nosotros'll remit half your fee." "I didn't realize it would be this large," said Eckels. "I miscalculated, that's all. And now I want out." "It sees us!" "There's the red paint on its chest!" The Tyrant Lizard raised itself. Its armored flesh glittered like a g green coins. The coins, crusted with slime, steamed. In the slime, tiny insects wriggled, and so that the unabridged body seemed to twitch and undulate, fifty-fifty while the monster itself did not move. It exhaled. The stink of raw flesh blew downwardly the wilderness. "Go me out of here," said Eckels. "It was never like this before. I was always certain I'd come through alive. I had good guides, practiced safaris, and condom. This fourth dimension, I figured incorrect. I've met my match and admit information technology. This is too much for me to get concord of." "Don't run," said Lesperance. "Plough around. Hide in the Machine." "Yes." Eckels seemed to be numb. He looked at his feet equally if trying to make them move. He gave a grunt of helplessness. "Eckels!" He took a few steps, blinking, shuffling. "Not that way!" The Monster, at the showtime move, lunged forward with a terrible scream. It covered 1 hundred yards in half dozen seconds. The rifles jerked up and blazed burn down. A windstorm from the creature's mouth engulfed them in the stench of slime and erstwhile blood. The Monster roared, teeth glittering with sun. Eckels, not looking back, walked blindly to the edge of the Path, his gun limp in his arms, stepped off the Path, and walked, not knowing information technology, in the jungle. His feet sank into green moss. His legs moved him, and he felt alone and remote from the events behind. The rifles cracked again, Their sound was lost in shriek and lizard thunder. The great level of the reptile's tail swung upwards, lashed sideways. Trees exploded in clouds of leaf and co-operative. The Monster twitched its jeweler's hands down to fondle at the men, to twist them in half, to crush them like berries, to cram them into its teeth and its screaming throat. Its boulderstone optics leveled with the men. They saw themselves mirrored. They fired at the metallic eyelids and the blazing blackness iris, Like a stone idol, like a mount avalanche, Tyrannosaurus fell. Thundering, it clutched trees, pulled them with it. Information technology wrenched and tore the metal Path. The men flung themselves back and away. The body hit, ten tons of common cold flesh and stone. The guns fired. The Monster lashed its armored tail, twitched its ophidian jaws, and lay still. A fount of claret spurted from its pharynx. Somewhere inside, a sac of fluids burst. Sickening gushes drenched the hunters. They stood, red and glistening. The thunder faded. The jungle was silent. After the avalanche, a dark-green peace. Subsequently the nightmare, morning. Billings and Kramer sat on the pathway and threw up. Travis and Lesperance stood with smoking rifles, cursing steadily. In the Time Machine, on his face up, Eckels lay shivering. He had institute his style back to the Path, climbed into the Car. Travis came walking, glanced at Eckels, took cotton gauze from a metallic box, and returned to the others, who were sitting on the Path. "Clean up." They wiped the blood from their helmets. They began to expletive too. The Monster lay, a hill of solid flesh. Within, you could hear the sighs and murmurs equally the furthest chambers of information technology died, the organs malfunctioning, liquids running a final instant from pocket to sac to spleen, everything shutting off, closing upwards forever. It was like standing by a wrecked locomotive or a steam shovel at quitting time, all valves being released or levered tight. Basic cracked; the tonnage of its own mankind, off balance, expressionless weight, snapped the delicate forearms, caught underneath. The meat settled, quivering. Some other cracking sound. Overhead, a gigantic tree branch bankrupt from its heavy mooring, fell. It crashed upon the dead beast with finality. "At that place." Lesperance checked his watch. "Right on fourth dimension. That'due south the giant tree that was scheduled to fall and impale this beast originally." He glanced at the two hunters. "You want the bays motion picture?" "What?" "Nosotros can't accept a trophy back to the Future. The body has to stay correct here where information technology would have died originally, so the insects, birds, and bacteria can get at it, equally they were intended to. Everything in residual. The body stays. But nosotros tin take a picture of you standing nearly it." The two men tried to think, but gave upwardly, shaking their heads. They let themselves be led forth the metal Path. They sank wearily into the Machine cushions. They gazed back at the ruined Monster, the stagnating mound, where already foreign reptilian birds and gilt insects were busy at the steaming armor. A sound on the floor of the Fourth dimension Automobile stiffened them. Eckels saturday there, shivering. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "Get upwardly!" cried Travis. Eckels got up. "Go out on that Path solitary," said Travis. He had his rifle pointed, "You lot're not coming back in the Machine. We're leaving you here!" Lesperance seized Travis's arm. "Wait-" "Stay out of this!" Travis shook his manus away. "This fool nearly killed us. But information technology isn't that so much, no. It's his shoes! Look at them! He ran off the Path. That ruins united states! We'll forfeit! Thousands of dollars of insurance! We guarantee no one leaves the Path. He left it. Oh, the fool! I'll have to study to the government. They might revoke our license to travel. Who knows what he's done to Fourth dimension, to History!" "Have it like shooting fish in a barrel, all he did was boot up some dirt." "How practice we know?" cried Travis. "We don't know anything! Information technology'southward all a mystery! Go out of here, Eckels!" Eckels fumbled his shirt. "I'll pay anything. A hundred thousand dollars!" Travis glared at Eckels' checkbook and spat. "Become out there. The Monster's adjacent to the Path. Stick your artillery up to your elbows in his oral fissure. Then you can come dorsum with usa." "That's unreasonable!" "The Monster's dead, you idiot. The bullets! The bullets can't be left behind. They don't belong in the By; they might change annihilation. Here'southward my knife. Dig them out!" The jungle was alive once more, full of the sometime tremorings and bird cries. Eckels turned slowly to regard the primeval garbage dump, that hill of nightmares and terror. Afterward a long time, similar a sleepwalker he shuffled out forth the Path. He returned, shuddering, five minutes subsequently, his artillery soaked and scarlet to the elbows. He held out his hands. Each held a number of steel bullets. Then he fell. He lay where he vicious, not moving. "You didn't have to make him do that," said Lesperance. "Didn't I? It'south too early to tell." Travis nudged the all the same body. "He'll live. Adjacent time he won't become hunting game like this. Okay." He jerked his pollex wearily at Lesperance. "Switch on. Let's go home." 1492. 1776. 1812. They cleaned their hands and faces. They changed their caking shirts and pants. Eckels was up and around once more, not speaking. Travis glared at him for a full ten minutes. "Don't look at me," cried Eckels. "I haven't done anything." "Who can tell?" "Just ran off the Path, that's all, a fiddling mud on my shoes-what practice you want me to do-get downwards and pray?" "We might demand it. I'grand alert you, Eckels, I might kill you yet. I've got my gun ready." "I'g innocent. I've done nothing!" 1999.2000.2055. The Machine stopped. "Get out," said Travis. The room was at that place as they had left information technology. Only not the same as they had left information technology. The same man sat behind the same desk. But the same man did non quite sit backside the aforementioned desk-bound. Travis looked around swiftly. "Everything okay here?" he snapped. "Fine. Welcome home!" Travis did non relax. He seemed to exist looking through the one high window. "Okay, Eckels, get out. Don't always come up back." Eckels could not move. "You heard me," said Travis. "What're you staring at?" Eckels stood smelling of the air, and in that location was a affair to the air, a chemic taint and so subtle, so slight, that only a faint cry of his subliminal senses warned him information technology was there. The colors, white, gray, bluish, orange, in the wall, in the article of furniture, in the sky across the window, were . . . were . . . . And in that location was a feel. His mankind twitched. His hands twitched. He stood drinking the oddness with the pores of his body. Somewhere, someone must accept been screaming one of those whistles that merely a dog can hear. His body screamed silence in return. Across this room, across this wall, beyond this man who was not quite the same man seated at this desk that was not quite the same desk-bound . . . lay an entire world of streets and people. What sort of world it was now, there was no telling. He could feel them moving there, beyond the walls, almost, like and so many chess pieces blown in a dry out wind .... But the immediate thing was the sign painted on the role wall, the aforementioned sign he had read earlier today on outset entering. Somehow, the sign had changed:
TYME SEFARI INC.
SEFARIS TU Any YEER EN THE PAST.
YU NAIM THE ANIMALL.
WEE TAEK YU THAIR.
YU SHOOT ITT.
Eckels felt himself fall into a chair. He fumbled crazily at the thick slime on his boots. He held up a clod of dirt, trembling, "No, it can't exist. Not a trivial affair similar that. No!" Embedded in the mud, glistening green and gold and black, was a butterfly, very beautiful and very dead. "Not a little affair similar that! Not a butterfly!" cried Eckels. It fell to the floor, an exquisite thing, a small thing that could upset balances and knock down a line of modest dominoes and then big dominoes then gigantic dominoes, all down the years across Fourth dimension. Eckels' mind whirled. It couldn't change things. Killing 1 butterfly couldn't be that of import! Could it? His face was cold. His rima oris trembled, asking: "Who - who won the presidential election yesterday?" The man backside the desk laughed. "Y'all joking? You lot know very well. Deutscher, of course! Who else? Not that fool weakling Keith. We got an iron man at present, a man with guts!" The official stopped. "What'south wrong?" Eckels moaned. He dropped to his knees. He scrabbled at the golden butterfly with shaking fingers. "Can't we," he pleaded to the world, to himself, to the officials, to the Machine, "can't we take it back, can't we make it live again? Tin't nosotros start over? Can't we-" He did not movement. Eyes shut, he waited, shivering. He heard Travis exhale loud in the room; he heard Travis shift his rifle, click the rubber grab, and raise the weapon. There was a sound of thunder.
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Notes
- Equanimous 27SEP18.
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A Sound Of Thunder Pdf,
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