“said the Young Captain, police chief of High Chicago, the turbulent satellite that hangs over the meridian of the midwestem groundside city, “I wish that sometimes the telephathic races of the Galaxy weren’t such consistent truth-tellers and silence-keepers.” “Your four suspects are all telepaths?” the Old Lieutenant asked. “Yes. I also wish I had more than half an hour to decide which one to accuse. But Earthside has muscled into the case and the pressure is on. If I can’t reason it ou...t, I must make a guess. A bare half-hour they give me.” “Then perhaps you shouldn’t waste it with a pensioned-off old louey.” The Young Captain shook his head decisively. “No. You think. You have time to now.” The Old Lieutenant smiled. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. And I doubt if I can give you any special angles on telepaths, Jim. It’s true I’ve lately been whiling away the time on informal study of alien thought systems with Khla-Khla the Martian, but—”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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