3/11/2023 0 Comments Supermind randall garrett“I get a committee and I talk to a lot of newspaper editors and magazine editors and maybe I go on television and talk some more, and my committee has a lot of meetings-” It didn’t take any longer than that to come up with the old, old answer. “You’re a congressman,” Burris said, “and the government is inefficient. He considered leaning over the desk a little, to look even more eager, but decided against it Burris might think he looked threatening. Burris might say something worth hearing. If he waited long enough, he told himself, Andrew J. After all, he wasn’t on assignment at the moment, and there was nothing pressing waiting for him. He had the feeling that if he waited around a little while everything would make sense, and he was willing to wait. “Suppose you’re a congressman,” he went on, “and you find evidence of inefficiency in the government.” “This time,” Burris said, “it isn’t the same old story at all. “Malone,” Burris said, and the FBI agent whirled around again. Malone turned and looked at the spot, but saw nothing of interest. Finally.” He passed a hand over his forehead and stared past Malone at a spot on the wall. “Rome was always going to hell in a handbasket, and finally it-” He paused. “The country’s always been going to hell in a handbasket, one way or another. “After all, it isn’t anything new,” he went on. “Anything you say,” Malone agreed peacefully. “Don’t call me Chief,” Burris said wearily. “The country,” he said, “is going to hell in a handbasket.” His voice was calmer now, and he spoke as if he were enunciating nothing but the most obvious and eternal truths. “Malone,” Burris sighed, “you ought to be on television.” I mean, is it larger than a breadbox? Does it perform helpful tasks? Is it self-employed?” “But if you don’t know what it is, you must have some idea of what you don’t know. Malone sighed and repressed an impulse to scream. “What what is?” he asked.īurris frowned and drummed his fingers on his big desk. He threw his hands in the air and looked baffled and confused. “We don’t know what the hell it is,” said Andrew J. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.ĭistribution by Pronoun TABLE OF CONTENTS Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.Īll rights reserved. Somehow he couldn't picture her wistful little father ever.Thank you for reading. Only Lou seemed to take the event as a matter of course, which set Malone to wondering about her home-life. Her Majesty looked startled for a second, and then regained her composure. Malone felt he should applaud, but managed to restrain himself. Petkoff finished the wedge of cheese and ripped off a belch of incredible magnitude and splendor. Malone felt a good deal of sympathy for her. Lou simply looked glassy-eyed and overstuffed. Her Majesty was staring, too, in a very polite manner. Unbelieving, he watched Petkoff polish off a large red apple, a pear and a small wedge of white, creamy-looking cheese at the end of the towering meal. And always, between the courses, during the courses and at every available moment, there was vodka. The dinner was as extensive as anything Malone had ever dreamed of: borshcht, beef Stroganoff, smoked fish, vegetables in gigantic tureens, ices and cheeses and fruits. On the other hand, Malone thought, maybe it was part of the dance. They looked like good dancers, but they seemed to be plagued with clumsiness they were always crashing into one another. The musicians broke out into a thunderous and bumpy piece, and the dancers began some sort of Slavic folk dance that looked like a combination of a kazotska and a shivaree. The dance floor had been cleared by this time, and a group of six costumed professionals glided out and took places. By the time the meal came, Malone was feeling a warm glow in his interior, but no real fogginess. "We must have patience, eh, colleague?" "I guess so," Malone said, watching Petkoff pour more vodka. "Since our proletariat," he said, "have shown no sign of wanting any rebellion at all, how can I predict when they're going to rebel?" Petkoff gave him an unbelieving smile. The dance floor had been cleared by this time, and a group of six costumed professionals glided out and took places.Įxcerpt.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |