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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 103 из 164That was top secret Commando technique. They take their men apart and rewire and regear them. I'll have to check with Mars HQ and find out whether Commando Brigade's running a parallel investigation.»
«Does the army tell the navy?»
«They'll tell Intelligence,» Y'ang-Yeovil said angrily. «This case is critical enough without jurisdictional hassles. And another thing: there was no need to manhandle that girl in the maneuver. It was undisciplined and unnecessary.» Y'ang-Yeovil paused, for once unaware of the significant glances passing around him. «I must find out who she is,» he added dreamily.
«If she's been regeared too, it'll be real interesting, Yeo,» a bland voice, markedly devoid of implication, said. «Boy Meets Commando.»
Y'ang-Yeovil flushed. «All right,» he blurted. «I'm transparent.»
«Just repetitious, Yea. All your romances start the same way. 'There's no need to manhandle that girl. . .' And then-Dolly Quaker, Jean Webster, Gwynn Roget, Marion…”
«No names, please!» a shocked voice interrupted. «Does Romeo tell Juliet?»
«You're all going on latrine assignment tomorrow,» Y'ang-Yeovil said.
«I'm damned if I'll stand for this salacious insubordination. No, not tomorrow; but as soon as this case is closed.» His hawk face darkened. «My God, what a mess! Will you ever forget Foyle standing there like a burning brand? But where is he? What's he up to? What's it all mean?»
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PRESTEIGN OF PRESTEIGN'S MANSION in Central Park was ablaze for the New Year. Charming antique electric bulks with zigzag filaments and pointed tips shed yellow light. The jaunte-proof maze had been removed and the great door was open for the special occasion. The interior of the house was protected from the gaze of the crowd outside by a jeweled screen just inside the door.
The sightseers buzzed and exclaimed as the famous and near-famous of clan and sept arrived by car, by coach, by litter, by every form of luxurious transportation. Presteign of Presteign himself stood before the door, iron gray, handsome, smiling his basilisk smile, and welcomed society to his open house. Hardly had a celebrity stepped through the door and disappeared behind the screen when another, even more famous, came clattering up in a vehicle even more fabulous.
The Colas arrived in a band wagon. The Esso family (six sons, three daughters) was magnificent in a glass-topped Greyhound bus. But Greyhound arrived (in an Edison electric runabout) hard on their heels and there was much laughter and chaffing at the door.
«Does the army tell the navy?»
«They'll tell Intelligence,» Y'ang-Yeovil said angrily. «This case is critical enough without jurisdictional hassles. And another thing: there was no need to manhandle that girl in the maneuver. It was undisciplined and unnecessary.» Y'ang-Yeovil paused, for once unaware of the significant glances passing around him. «I must find out who she is,» he added dreamily.
«If she's been regeared too, it'll be real interesting, Yeo,» a bland voice, markedly devoid of implication, said. «Boy Meets Commando.»
Y'ang-Yeovil flushed. «All right,» he blurted. «I'm transparent.»
«Just repetitious, Yea. All your romances start the same way. 'There's no need to manhandle that girl. . .' And then-Dolly Quaker, Jean Webster, Gwynn Roget, Marion…”
«No names, please!» a shocked voice interrupted. «Does Romeo tell Juliet?»
«You're all going on latrine assignment tomorrow,» Y'ang-Yeovil said.
«I'm damned if I'll stand for this salacious insubordination. No, not tomorrow; but as soon as this case is closed.» His hawk face darkened. «My God, what a mess! Will you ever forget Foyle standing there like a burning brand? But where is he? What's he up to? What's it all mean?»
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PRESTEIGN OF PRESTEIGN'S MANSION in Central Park was ablaze for the New Year. Charming antique electric bulks with zigzag filaments and pointed tips shed yellow light. The jaunte-proof maze had been removed and the great door was open for the special occasion. The interior of the house was protected from the gaze of the crowd outside by a jeweled screen just inside the door.
The sightseers buzzed and exclaimed as the famous and near-famous of clan and sept arrived by car, by coach, by litter, by every form of luxurious transportation. Presteign of Presteign himself stood before the door, iron gray, handsome, smiling his basilisk smile, and welcomed society to his open house. Hardly had a celebrity stepped through the door and disappeared behind the screen when another, even more famous, came clattering up in a vehicle even more fabulous.
The Colas arrived in a band wagon. The Esso family (six sons, three daughters) was magnificent in a glass-topped Greyhound bus. But Greyhound arrived (in an Edison electric runabout) hard on their heels and there was much laughter and chaffing at the door.