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"I thought you'd managed to get that blabbermouth transposed to PolTerm," Zostha said. "He wouldn't go." Tortha Karf replied. "Said it was just a trick to get him off Home Time Line during the Council crisis." Yandar Yadd had appeared on the screen as the pickup swung about.
"That's what I want to find out. There must be something wrong, either with the slaves, or the treatment our people were giving them, or the Paratime Police, and I want to find out which." "To tell the truth, Larv, so do I." Yandar Yadd said. He turned to the man behind the counter. "Varkar, do we see that claim, or do I make a story out of your refusal to show it?" he asked.
The Paratime Police impounded the slaves for narco-hypnotic interrogation, and then transposed the lot of them to Police Terminal." Yandar Yadd still held his affectation of sleepy indolence. "Now why would the Paracops do that, I wonder? Slavery's an established local practice on Esaron Sector; our people have to buy slaves if they want to run a plantation." "I know that." Sphabron Larv replied.
If I do, there'll be a Question in Council about why I had to, before the day's out!" "What's the matter, Larv?" Yandar Yadd asked lazily. "He trying to hold something out on you?" Sphabron Larv turned; his eyes lit happily when he saw his boss, and then his anger returned. "I want to see a copy of an indemnity claim that was filed this morning," he said. "Varkar, here, won't show it to me.
The screen in the background seemed to advance, until it filled the entire screen. Yandar Yadd was still talking, out of the picture; a metal-tipped pointer came into the picture, touching the right thumb, which grew larger and larger until it was the only thing visible. "Now here," Yandar Yadd's voice continued.
Coming down a hallway on the hundred and seventh floor of the Management wing of the Paratime Building, Yandar Yadd paused to admire, in the green mirror of the glassoid wall, the jaunty angle of his silver-feathered cap, the fit of his short jacket, and the way his weapon hung at his side.
I have a list of about a dozen of them who have had fatal accidents or committed suicide, or just died or vanished since the news of your raid broke. Four of them I saw, in the screen, jump up and run out as soon as the news came in, on One-Six-Five Day. And a lot of other people; our friend Yandar Yadd's dropped out of sight, for one.
The screen lit, and Yandar Yadd automatically pressed a button for a photo-copy. The two newsmen stared for a moment, and then even Yandar Yadd's shell of drowsy negligence cracked and fell from him. His hand brushed the switch as he snatched the hand-phone from his belt. "Marva!" he barked, before the girl at the news office could more than acknowledge.
"Karf, for the first and last time, let me remind you that I opposed this lunacy from the beginning. Now, what are we going to do next?" "I suggest that we get to Headquarters as soon as we can," Tortha Karf said. "If we wait too long, we may not be able to get in." Yandar Yadd was back on the screen, denouncing Tortha Karf passionately. Tortha went over and snapped it off.
"The Paratime Police asked me to keep this confidential," Varkar Klav said. "Publicity would seriously hamper an important police investigation." Yandar Yadd made an impolite noise. "How do I know that all it would do would be to reveal police incompetence?" he retorted.
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