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Updated: June 13, 2025
With such a machine, we can run off a graph of the tides for years ahead. Oh, hell it's a lot more complicated than that, but it takes the basic facts and draws a picture of the results. We use electronic ones now, but the results are the same." "I understand," Sather Karf said. Dave doubted it, but he was happy to be saved from struggling with a more detailed explanation.
Then, one after another, their faces were shown in closeup, while Tortha Karf asked for close attention and memorization. "We believe that these men were Fifth Level Proles; we think that they were under hypnotic influence or obeying posthypnotic commands when they made their suicidal attack. If any of you have ever seen any of these men before, it is your duty to inform the Paratime Police."
"That," Tortha Karf said, "is being considered; there is a discreet inquiry being made into Salgath Trod's associates, his sources of income, and so on. Nothing has turned up as yet, but we have hopes." "I believe," Vall said, "that we have a better chance right on Home Time Line than outtime." Tortha Karf looked up sharply. "So?" he asked. Vall was stuffing tobacco into a pipe. "Yes. Chief.
He looked like a beaten, sick old man. His voice was toneless. "Fix the sky, Dave Hanson!" There were angry murmurs from other warlocks in the background, but Sather Karf shook his head slowly, still facing Hanson. "No what good to threaten dire punishments or to torture you when another day or week will see the end of everything?
"And you shall have it. The word of Sather Karf is good," the old man told him. "But there was no mention of when you would be given those names. You said that when the computer was finished you would wait for my true name, and I promised that you should have it when the time came, but not what the time would be. So you will wait, or the agreement shall be broken by you, not by me.
And there would be no magic to avoid the fact that there you must always be dead." Hanson's eyes riveted on the face of Sather Karf. The old man looked back and finally nodded his head. "That is true," he admitted. "It would have been kinder for you not to know, but it is the truth." "And jewels enough to buy an empire on a corpse," Hanson accused.
The men who are running this are right on Home Time Line, many of them in positions of prominence, and if we can catch one of them and narco-hyp him, we can start a chain-reaction of disclosures all through this Slave Trust." "How are we going to get at these top men?" Tortha Karf wanted to know. "Advertise for them on telecast?" "They'll leave traces; they won't be able to avoid it.
"So that was it," Dalgroth Sorn, the Paratime Commissioner for Security said, relieved when Tortha Karf had finished. "Yes, and I'll repeat it under narco-hyp, too," Tortha Karf added. "Oh, don't talk that way, Karf," Dalgroth Sorn scolded. He was at least a century Tortha Karf's senior; he had the face of an elderly and sore-toothed lion.
It could go a long ways here, he decided. "You wouldn't have been sentenced to twenty lifetimes here by the Sather Karf, would you?" The slave stared at him in surprise. "You guessed it. I've died only fourteen times so far, so I've got six more lives to go. But hey, you can't be! They were counting on you to be the one who really fixed things.
Sometimes I wish Ghaldron Karf and Hesthor Ghrom had strangled in their cradles!" Verkan Vall shook his head. "No, chief," he said. "You don't mean that; not really," he said. "We've been paratiming for the past ten thousand years. When the Ghaldron-Hesthor trans-temporal field was discovered, our ancestors had pretty well exhausted the resources of this planet.
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