United States or Greece ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I couldn't have done what you did, but maybe it was for the best. The traitor is dead; the mathematician will live forever." "You miss the whole point," MacLeod said. "Both of you. It wasn't a question of revenge, like gangsters bumping off a double-crosser. And it wasn't a question of whitewashing Lowiewski for posterity. We are the MacLeod Research Team.
"After the spaceship is built, and the Moon is annexed to the Western Union, there will be publicity, and people will eulogize this species of an Iscariot!" Heym ben-Hillel, who had been staring at MacLeod in shocked unbelief, roused himself. "Well, why not? Isn't the creator of the Lowiewski function transformations and the rules of inverse probabilities worthy of eulogy?" He turned to MacLeod.
Naturally, no one will admit, mumble-mumble. No stone will be left unturned, mumble-mumble. Disciplinary action, mumble-mumble." "And I suppose he got that microfilm piecemeal, too?" Lowiewski asked. "Oh, that?" MacLeod shrugged. "That was planted on him. One of our girls arranged an opportunity for him to steal it from her, after we began to suspect him.
There was a split second in which Lowiewski struggled almost successfully to erase the consternation from his face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he began. His right hand started to slide under his left coat lapel. MacLeod's Colt was covering him before he could complete the movement.
Heym ben-Hillel turned to the others: his eyes had the hurt and puzzled look of a dog that has been kicked for no reason. "But why did he do this?" he asked. "He just told you," MacLeod replied. "He's the great Adam Lowiewski. Checking math for a physics-research team is beneath his dignity. I suppose the Komintern offered him a professorship at Stalin University."
And the person who had to be the spy-courier called Adam Lowiewski, and Lowiewski made an appointment to meet him at the Oppenheimer Village Recreation House to play chess." "Very suspicious, very suspicious," Lowiewski derided. "I receive a call from a friend at the same time that some anonymous suspect is using the phone.
Rudolf von Heldenfeld could read Russian. "'Data on new development of photon-neutrino-electron interchange. 22 July, '65. Vladmir. Vladmir, I suppose, is this schweinhund's code name," he added. The film and the paper passed from hand to hand. The other members of the Team sat down; there was a tendency to move away from the chair occupied by Adam Lowiewski. He noticed this and sneered.
Lowiewski seemed barely able to keep his impatience within the bounds of politeness. "Of course, it's out of my line, but the mathematics seems sound." He started to move away. "You're not going anywhere," MacLeod told him. "The chess game is over. The red pawns are taken the one at Oppenheimer Village, and the one here."
There are only five hundred telephone conversations a minute on this reservation." "Immediately, Dr. Lowiewski attempted to leave this building," MacLeod went on. "When I intercepted him, he tried to draw a pistol. This one." He exhibited the Beretta. "I am now going to have Dr. Lowiewski searched, in the presence of all of you." He nodded to Alex and the Englishman.
Then his arm swung up, and he shot Adam Lowiewski through the forehead. For an instant, the Pole remained on his feet. Then his knees buckled, and he fell forward against the table, sliding to the floor. MacLeod went around the table, behind Kato Sugihara and Farida Khouroglu and Heym ben-Hillel, and stood looking down at the man he had killed.
Word Of The Day