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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I am now terminating the playback of Councilman Salgath's call to me," Tortha Karf said, re-appearing on the screen. "At this point Councilman Salgath began making a statement about his criminal activities, which we have on record.
"Well, that won't take much doing," Dalla said. "If there's as much excitement on Home Time Line as I think, Dras would turn somersaults and jump through hoops to get us to one of his dinners, right now." Salgath Trod pushed the litter of papers and record-tape spools to one side impatiently. "Well, what else did you expect?" he demanded. "This was the logical next move.
"There ought to be somebody on the Force close enough to Salgath Trod's anthropometric specifications that our cosmeticians could work him over into a passable impersonation. Our story is that Salgath is on PolTerm, undergoing narco-hypnosis. We will produce an audio-visual of him as soon as he is out of narco-hyp.
"I don't want my psychotests reviewed by some duty-struck bigot who can't be reasoned with, and neither do you." "I'm getting something organized to counter that," Salgath Trod said. "I'm going to attack the whole scientific basis of psychotesting. There's Dr.
"He's dead?" Then, again, statement instead of question: "He's dead!" For a long moment, she lay back in the chair, as though trying to reorient her mind to the fact of Salgath Trod's death, while Vall and Dalla sat watching her. Then she stirred, opened her eyes, looked at the cigarette in her fingers as though she had never seen it before, and leaned forward to stuff it into an ash receiver.
What's to prevent a gang of unscrupulous paracops from moving in on a few unexploited Kholghoor time lines, buying captives from the Croutha, and shipping them to the Esaron Sector?" "Then why would they let a thing like this get out?" Salgath Trod inquired. "Somebody slipped up and moved a lot of slaves onto an exploited Esaron time line.
It had been Salgath Trod, himself, less than half an hour ago, who had introduced the term, "the Organization," to the Paratime Police. At that time, if these people were what they claimed to be, they would have been in transposition from Industrial Twenty-four, on the Fifth Level. Immediately, he reached for his needler. He was clearing it of the holster when things began happening.
"I hope they don't," Vall said to Tortha Karf. "Really, though, I doubt if they do. This is their chance to pick up a lot of slaves cheaply; the Croutha are too busy to bother haggling. I'm going through to PolTerm, now; when Dalla and Zinganna get through, tell them to join me there." On Police Terminal, he found Kostran Galth, the agent who had been selected to impersonate Salgath Trod.
"Which confirms my long-standing respect for Councilman Salgath's exquisite taste." "Why, thank you," she said. "But I doubt if I was brought here to receive compliments. Or was I?" "No, I'm afraid not. Have you heard the newscasts of the past few hours concerning Councilman Salgath?" She straightened in her seat, looking at him seriously. "No.
You'll have to send an escort for me; I might start from my apartment alone, but I'd be killed before I got to your headquarters " The girl, who had begun to listen in the bored manner of public servants phone girls, was staring wide-eyed. "Just a moment, Councilman Salgath; I'll put you through to Chief Tortha."
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