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"Well, when would it be most convenient to arrange the details?" Klarnood inquired. "I am completely at your disposal, gentlemen." "Why, here and now, while we're all together," Verkan Vall replied. "I object to that!" Marnark of Bashad vociferated. "We can't make arrangements here; why, all these hotel people, from the manager down, are nothing but tipsters for the newscast services!"
Pelton muttered: "Why Frank sponsors that blabbermouth of a Mongery " Ray, sliding back onto the bench, returned to his food. "Jimmy's book had pictures," he complained, forking up another mixture of eggs, bacon, toast and honey. Claire echoed. "Oh, the instructions for the 'copter?" "Pipe down, both of you!" Pelton commanded. "The newscast "
"The idea that anything that can be duplicated can be canceled," he announced gloomily, "is unfortunately rot. We can duplicate sounds, but there's no way to make them cancel out! Not accurately!" Jill had eaten a substantial part of the porcupine while the newscast was on. It was not a satisfying breakfast, but it cheered her immensely after two days of near-starvation.
His body will float up to the top Why, Lady Dallona, that was only part of it. You didn't hear about the big scandal, on the newscast, then?" "We didn't have it on. What scandal?" Sarnax laughed. "Oh, the very father and family-head of all scandals!
Eliot Leithgow gave up the late radio newscast from Earth he had been pretending to read. A brief silence fell, and through it the old scientist seemed to feel something, seemed to expect something. And he was not mistaken. "Who's there?" It was a cry from one of the watchers outside. Friday leaped out of his uneasy seat and was through the door even before Ban, who followed with Leithgow.
"Good day to you, sir," Randolph ended the unprecedentedly long speech, turned on his heel and left Bill Howard to find his own way out. That night, as Bill Howard ended his newscast, the camera did not switch to the witches. Instead it switched to the announcer.
Pre-dinner cocktails in the library seemed to be a sort of household rite a self-imposed Truce of Bacchus before the resumption of hostilities in the dining-room. It lasted from six forty-five to seven; everybody sipped Manhattans and kept quiet and listened to the radio newscast. The only new face, to Rand, was Fred Dunmore's.
Randolph stood in the door, waiting. The man silently held out a badge, and Randolph moved aside, gesturing him in. "I didn't look at your badge close enough," Randolph said as he closed the door behind his visitor. "Who are you?" "Narcotics squad," the man said briefly. "I was on the raid last night." "Oh? The one Bill Howard was talking about in his newscast?" "Yes. That one.
So it was that I caught an item in a newscast, probably unheard by most, or smiled aside, if heard. Red Egg, organ of the Russian Poultry Farmers, editorialized, "a certain imperialist nation, unscrupulously pilfering the technical advance of Soviet Science, is using atomic power, contrary to international law.
The transmitter screen lit up with a blurred jumble of print, colors, a muttering of voices, music and noises. Gefty twisted a dial. The screen cleared, showed a newscast headline sheet. Gefty blinked at it, glanced sideways at Kerim, grimaced. "The something else," he said, his voice a little strained, "was something I was also worried about. Looks like I was more or less right."
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