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"If you really were smart, you'd have counted us. Don't you know there are three of us who aren't afraid of the spheres?" As Masters spoke, the point of Pember's bayonet touched the small of Norden's back. The soldier had crept from the tunnel, unobserved by Norden, who was engrossed in the mental torture of his prisoners. With a cry of rage Norden whirled and fired.
Whether we like it or not, we're allies." Norden's undershot jaw moved in a grin. "I know about the spheres, Captain," Norden replied. "I overheard your remarks to Mr. Masters. I've listened to Orkins' babble." "Will you help us?" "I will bargain with you." "For your life? You know I can't do anything about that.
A single shrill hiss came from the casting room. "Why do you claim superiority, Norden?" Taylor spoke. The spy turned. For the first time he saw Taylor. "Himmel!" Norden's eyes looked beyond Taylor and rested on Masters, who was emerging from the tunnel. "Is it because you pose the doctrine of slavery and destruction? Is it because your cultural contributions are keyed to military conquest?
"Kinda screwy, ain't he?" he said, jerking his head in Orkins' direction. "I don't know that I blame him, much," Taylor said. "Look at the plant." Over the roof and the smokestacks floated the yellowish-red ball of fire. Another sphere was emerging from the hole in the roof. "What are they? A new kind of bomb?" Masters asked. "Norden's bomb never had a chance.
Perhaps Norden's name should be added, but interesting and stimulating though his book Agnostos Theos be, it suffers from ignorance of early Christianity, and has little permanent value for the criticism of Acts.
Norden's Travels in Egypt and Nubia, with Templeman's notes, published and translated under the inspection of the Royal Society of London, 1757, 2 vols. folio. Norden was a Danish physician; his work was originally published in that language.
Is it because of your lies and broken promises? Is it because you are more skillful in butchery? It is because you have refined the art of terrorism?" Taylor was advancing, half crouching, toward Norden. Norden's arm swished in a swift motion. He drew an automatic pistol from his pocket and leveled it at Taylor and Masters. "Because I am the stronger!" Norden said.
The terrace at this time, as it is described by Paul Hentzner, and as it appears in Norden's view, was a sort of balcony projecting beyond the scarp of the hill, and supported by great cantilevers of wood. In 1576 the gallery still bearing her name, and lying between Henry the Seventh's buildings and the Norman Tower, was erected by Elizabeth.
Taylor wrenched the gun from Norden's hand, just as the spy landed a jarring blow to the body. Taylor staggered, lost his balance and dropped the gun. Norden leaped forward to retrieve the weapon, but Taylor blocked the move. He drove Norden back with a hard right. The two men closed in and stood toe to toe, trading blows. The screaming of the sphere grew louder.
Dimly, he was conscious that this power was not directed at him, but at Norden who stood, still whistling, in front of the globe. The sphere was whistling, too, and the sound transformed itself into music of the stars. A discordant note rose in the song from Norden's imitation of the voice.
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