The 13 Crimes of Science Fiction
ears burned; they at least had lost their cool. Right after the call: letting him know she had tagged him as the midnight breather. Had she just now laughed not with him but at him? Did she take him for some sort of a creep? She was asking for it. Sock it to her between the eyes. He got up, not caring how awkwardly, and watched her in the mirror as he undressed. But aside from a widening of the eyes he saw no change in her face. A soft look of lasting wonder, maybe. "So much for your cool. Boy,
why didn't you make me an offer before this?" "Because I don't like to be forced to do anything. Up to now, I was fighting force with more force." Crandall considered the point. "I don't get it. But maybe that's the way you're constructed. Well, we'll see, as you said." When he rose to face Henck, the little man was still shaking his head slowly, dazedly, intent only on his own problem. "What do you think, Nick? Elsa went on a sightseeing jaunt to the Moon last month. The Une to her oxygen
each other nervously. One among them was a murdererl II Pan Pascoglu came to Magnus Ridolph in an extremity of emotion. "Mr. Ridolph, I know you're here on vacation, but you've got to help me out. Someone killed poor Bonfils dead as a mackerel, but who it was—" He held out his hands. "I can't stand for such things here, naturally." Magnus Ridolph pulled at his little white beard. "Surely there is to be some sort of official inquiry?" "That's what I'm seeing you about!" Pascoglu threw himself
like a child's harmonica." "Exactly," said Davenport, "and there aren't a dozen people on Earth who own a flawless one, and there are a hundred people and institutions who would buy one at any price, no questions asked. A supply of Bells would be worth murder." The extraterrologist turned to Davenport and pushed his spectacles back on his inconsequential nose with a stubby forefinger. "I haven't forgotten your murder case. Please go on." "That can be done in a sentence. I know the identity of
wall, going from field time to normal time. So he tm-ned it off, stepped out of range and used that nylon line to turn it on again. He probably made the same mistake Valpredo did: he thought he could step back in and turn it off." Ordaz nodded in satisfaction. "Exactly. It was very important for him—or her—to do that. Otherwise he would have no alibi and no profit. If he continued to try to reach into the field—" "Yah, he could lose the arm to gangrene. That'd be convenient for us, wouldn't it?