"Spill your story."
She held out a copy of a space radiogram, addressed to Mrs. D. E.
Everts, and signed by one of the best doctors on the Lobby Board of
Directors.
Regret confirm diagnosis. Topsecret. Repeat topsecret.
Martian fever incubates fourteen years, believed highly
fatal. No cure, research beginning immediately. Penalty
violation topsecret, death all concerned.
"Mrs. Everts rates a topsecret break?" Doc commented dryly. "Come off
it, Chris!"
"She's the daughter of Elmers of Space Lobby!" Chris answered. She
pointed to the message, underlining words with her finger. "_Fourteen
years._ You couldn't have caused it. _Highly fatal._ And people are
being told it's only a skin disease. _Research beginning._ But you've
already done most of the research. I can see that now. I can see a lot
of things."
"You've got me beat then," he said. "I can't see how such a reformed
young noblewoman calmly walked over and stole a life raft. I can't see
how your brilliant mind concocted this whole scheme in almost no time.
And to be honest, I can't even see why Medical Lobby decided to save me
at the last minute and sent you to do the job. You didn't have to spy
out knowledge from me. I've been trying all along to get it to your
Research division."
She sighed and dropped onto a little seat.
"I can't prove my motives.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100