Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
By this time, he was feeling considerable pain from the claw-wounds he had received. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it over the hood of the jeep. Tortha Karf had advised him to carry a needler, or a blaster, or a neurostat-gun, but Verkan Vall had been unwilling to take such arms onto the Fourth Level.
Across the black lavalike pavement, they could see the bulky form of Tortha Karf, hunched under a long cloak, with his flat cap pulled down over his brow. He shook hands with Vall and kissed cheeks with Dalla when they joined him. "Car's over here," he said, nodding toward the waiting vehicle. "Yesterday wasn't one of our better days, was it?" "No. It wasn't." Vall agreed.
"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.
The screen exploded into a kaleidoscopic flash of lights and colors, then cleared again. This time, a man looked out of it. He was well into middle age; close to his three hundredth year. His hair, a uniform iron-gray, was beginning to thin in front, and he was acquiring the beginnings of a double chin. His name was Tortha Karf, and he was Chief of Paratime Police, and Verkan Vall's superior.
"We don't need to discuss them; they're too obvious." She nodded. For over twelve millennia, the people of her race and Vall's and Tortha Karf's had been existing as parasites on all the innumerable other worlds of alternate probability on the lateral dimension of time. Smart parasites never injure their hosts, and try never to reveal their existence.
That reminded him of something; as soon as he was through with Zulthran, he got out an order in the name of Tortha Karf authorizing Skordran Kirv's promotion on a permanent basis and messaged it out. Something was going to have to be done with Vulthor Tharn, too. A promotion of course say Deputy Bureau Chief.
Verkan Vall flipped a switch and cut out the image. "Yes. I don't know what causes that, but it happens, now and then," Tortha Karf said. "Usually at the beginning of a transposition.
"Screen call for you, sir," he told Tortha Karf. "One of the news services wants a comment on a story they've just picked up that we've illegally arrested Councilman Salgath and are holding him incommunicado and searching his apartment." "That's the Organization," Vall said. "They don't know how their boys made out; they're hoping we'll tell them." "No comment," Tortha Karf said.
Three hours had passed; there had been more to learn about his quarry than he had expected. Tortha Karf was sitting behind his desk, smoking a cigarette. It seemed as though he had not moved since Verkan Vall had left him, though the special agent knew that he had dined, attended several conferences, and done many other things. "I checked up on your hitchhiker, Vall," the chief said.
Everything was cleaned out on Skordran Kirv's end." "Tell him to try the Mississippi, Missouri and Ohio Valleys," Tortha Karf said. "A lot of those slaves are sure to have been sold to Second Level Khiftan Sector." "Well, it looks as though our vacation's out the window for a long time," Dalla said resignedly. "Why don't you and Vall go to my farm, on Fifth Level Sicily," Tortha Karf suggested.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking