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Norton, Andre, 1912-2005

"Plague Ship"

And he almost lost his balance when it came to a stop many floors
above.
But he had not lost his wits. Before he stepped from the platform he set
the dial on a point which would lift the riser to the top of the shaft
and hold it there. That might trap the Traders on the broadcasting floor,
but it would also insure them time before the forces of the law could
reach them.
Dane located the rest of his party in the circular core chamber of the
broadcasting section. He recognized a backdrop he had seen thousands of
times behind the announcer who introduced the news-casts. In one corner
Rip, his suit off, was working over the still relaxed form of the Medic.
While Ali, a grim set to his mouth, was standing with a man who wore the
insignia of a Com-tech.
"All set?" Rip looked up from his futile ministrations.
Dane put down the cage and began the business of unhooking his own
protective covering. "They were burning through the outer doors of the
entrance hall when I took off."
"You're not going to get away with this--" that was the Com-tech.
Ali smiled wearily, a stretch of lips in which there was little or no
mirth.


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