I trust you were able to shake your watchdogs without trouble?"
"I sent Mr. Solo on a weekend in the mountains. I strongly suspect it of being a trap—for me, not for him."
"You think more highly of him than you admit."
"I have never questioned his survival instinct, my dear; merely his intelligence and taste. Chandra took Mr. Kuryakin to lunch."
"Bless her heart. She has a real talent for this work. I wish she would decide to come in professionally, but she keeps saying that it's too much fun to do for money."
"I received your bouquet with pleasure—and the pigeon, of course, arrived this morning."
"She must have gotten distracted. She was sent Thursday night."
"Could she have been intercepted?"
"Not without injury. I'm sure we're safe here for the time being, at least. But I wanted to know whether Alexander Waverly is acting on the advice you gave him."
"Yes. I heard an interim report—couched in the most guarded terms, of course—from him yesterday evening. Our misguided associates will be prevented from doing severe harm without actually suffering setbacks which could reflect adversely on us when this nonsense is resolved. But I was uncertain of my actions after you signaled me at the dance; did you mean that King is coming north or that Thrush Central is becoming increasingly militant? Or vice versa?"
"The fan gestures have the same problem as the flowers," Irene said. "Neither has a vocabulary quite suited to our purpose."
"All the better," said Baldwin seriously. "It forces us to think more deeply of what we are doing. I had no trouble following most of your meanings, in context."
"At the time I didn't know King was coming north," said Irene, "but Thursday I heard through Elma that King had told Central if they weren't able to keep you from cutting them up a bit at a time, he was going to Vermont with his PAR for a field demonstration."
"The Particle Accelerator Rifle? I believe Mr. Solo has referred to it as the Scrooch Gun ?"
"That's right. Have you seen it? It's all coils and tubing, with fins around the barrel to dissipate the heat from the RF and magnetic coils in between. It looks like a hand-prop for Buck Rogers."
"I'm told it acts like one; the footage I examined was moderately impressive, as I recall..."
"Well, Central offered him an assault force for back-up, but he turned it down. He said he would prove his worthiness for the Council seat by taking care of you and Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin all by himself."
Baldwin released a sigh of pleasure and frank relief. "My dear," he said, "the man is an obvious monomaniac. And monomaniacs never take adequate precautions. He wishes to prove his worthiness? Very well. If he succeeds, he must be worthy. But if he is unworthy—we may close the books on Mr. King."
"He's a very convincing monomaniac," said Irene. "He gave Central one more chance to get you and they took it. There will be a fifteen-man undercover force hitting the UVM campus looking for you about a quarter past five on Monday afternoon."
"You know I would never question your sources, my dear," said Baldwin after a respectful pause, "but are you certain of that?"
"Unimpeachable, my love," said Irene. "But I must admit I am rather proud of it."
"The Computer indicated the likelihood of such an attack, but it predicted a smaller force, optimized at four-point-seven men in an early morning attack Thursday."
"Insufficient data."
"Of course. King's pressure. My campus defense forces will be quite able to take care of this group; an undercover assault force will not be prepared to commit actual mayhem upon uninvolved persons, especially large numbers of them. None of my personal staff should have to lift a finger—and we will probably have very good seats for the show."
"Don't be overconfident, my dear," said Irene. "If a covert force fails, they could still send in an overt one before giving King final permission to take the field." She paused. "Pigeon post isn't fast enough. I'll use
"I sent Mr. Solo on a weekend in the mountains. I strongly suspect it of being a trap—for me, not for him."
"You think more highly of him than you admit."
"I have never questioned his survival instinct, my dear; merely his intelligence and taste. Chandra took Mr. Kuryakin to lunch."
"Bless her heart. She has a real talent for this work. I wish she would decide to come in professionally, but she keeps saying that it's too much fun to do for money."
"I received your bouquet with pleasure—and the pigeon, of course, arrived this morning."
"She must have gotten distracted. She was sent Thursday night."
"Could she have been intercepted?"
"Not without injury. I'm sure we're safe here for the time being, at least. But I wanted to know whether Alexander Waverly is acting on the advice you gave him."
"Yes. I heard an interim report—couched in the most guarded terms, of course—from him yesterday evening. Our misguided associates will be prevented from doing severe harm without actually suffering setbacks which could reflect adversely on us when this nonsense is resolved. But I was uncertain of my actions after you signaled me at the dance; did you mean that King is coming north or that Thrush Central is becoming increasingly militant? Or vice versa?"
"The fan gestures have the same problem as the flowers," Irene said. "Neither has a vocabulary quite suited to our purpose."
"All the better," said Baldwin seriously. "It forces us to think more deeply of what we are doing. I had no trouble following most of your meanings, in context."
"At the time I didn't know King was coming north," said Irene, "but Thursday I heard through Elma that King had told Central if they weren't able to keep you from cutting them up a bit at a time, he was going to Vermont with his PAR for a field demonstration."
"The Particle Accelerator Rifle? I believe Mr. Solo has referred to it as the Scrooch Gun ?"
"That's right. Have you seen it? It's all coils and tubing, with fins around the barrel to dissipate the heat from the RF and magnetic coils in between. It looks like a hand-prop for Buck Rogers."
"I'm told it acts like one; the footage I examined was moderately impressive, as I recall..."
"Well, Central offered him an assault force for back-up, but he turned it down. He said he would prove his worthiness for the Council seat by taking care of you and Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin all by himself."
Baldwin released a sigh of pleasure and frank relief. "My dear," he said, "the man is an obvious monomaniac. And monomaniacs never take adequate precautions. He wishes to prove his worthiness? Very well. If he succeeds, he must be worthy. But if he is unworthy—we may close the books on Mr. King."
"He's a very convincing monomaniac," said Irene. "He gave Central one more chance to get you and they took it. There will be a fifteen-man undercover force hitting the UVM campus looking for you about a quarter past five on Monday afternoon."
"You know I would never question your sources, my dear," said Baldwin after a respectful pause, "but are you certain of that?"
"Unimpeachable, my love," said Irene. "But I must admit I am rather proud of it."
"The Computer indicated the likelihood of such an attack, but it predicted a smaller force, optimized at four-point-seven men in an early morning attack Thursday."
"Insufficient data."
"Of course. King's pressure. My campus defense forces will be quite able to take care of this group; an undercover assault force will not be prepared to commit actual mayhem upon uninvolved persons, especially large numbers of them. None of my personal staff should have to lift a finger—and we will probably have very good seats for the show."
"Don't be overconfident, my dear," said Irene. "If a covert force fails, they could still send in an overt one before giving King final permission to take the field." She paused. "Pigeon post isn't fast enough. I'll use