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The commandant reddened with anger at their stubbornness. "All right. Take them to the guardhouse," he ordered. As the MP's marched the hijackers off, Tom asked how their case would be handled. "The crime is a federal offense," the commandant explained. "Air Force Intelligence will co-operate on the case, but the prisoners will be turned over to a federal marshal."
Nothing to it. No hyperdrives, none of that kind of stuff. We had an engine that could go half lightspeed and now we've made it twice as efficient and more. No superstitions about Einstein, I hope? No? Good." "I'll go," Collins said. "But what if I had said 'no'." Smith-Boerke put the gun away in a desk drawer. "Then you could have walked out of here, straight into the MP's."
The right of returning two members to Parliament is found periodically profitable to the inhabitants, and these two MP's with a little lace, constitute its only manufactures. The loss of the coaching trade by the substitution of the railroad, was a great blow to its local prosperity.
If the MP's catch him outside after hours, the whole unit will be logged and there goes our chance of blasting off tomorrow!" "But there's still time, Astro," replied Tom lamely. "Not much there isn't. It just shows you what he thinks of the unit! He just doesn't care!" Astro paced the floor angrily. "There's only one thing to do! He gets his transfer or we do!
This naturally disgusts men with the service; and, that is why you generally hear Government offices spoken of as playgrounds for idle youths, who enter them to saunter through life on the strength of the constituent-influence of their fathers on the seats of budding MP's." "I really thought they never worked," said I. "There's Horner, for instance.
On Spaceman's Row, Roger found the new freedom from discipline enjoyable at first, but now the novelty had worn off. Having visited all of the interesting places on the Row, existence there had become boring. His one attempt to leave Spaceman's Row had nearly met with disaster. Running into a squad of Solar Guard MP's, he had made a hurried escape into a near-by jet taxi.
Turning to the prisoners, he snapped, "Who are you, and what's the meaning of all this?" The crew captain, a hard-looking, stockily built man of about forty-five, rasped back, "We have nothing to say." The commandant wasted no words. "Search them," he told the MP's. Their wallets and various other items revealed little.
But once his absence was discovered and the warrant issued for his arrest, it had been necessary for him to assume some sort of disguise to elude the Solar Guard MP's. Roger had wound up on Spaceman's Row in Venusport as a matter of course. Luckily, when he left the station, he had the foresight to take all of his money with him, so he was not yet in need.
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