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."
"As we all know. Did the deceased tourist have anyone with him?"
"I don't know. I don't care. I do think killing him was too drastic. But
I'm a panty waist and always have been. In the past, when someone shoved ahead
of me in a queue, I've always let it go with minor mayhem. But queue cheating
should never be ignored; that just encourages the louts. Richard, I bought shoes
for you because I knew that your new foot could not use the right shoe you were
wearing when we arrived here."
"That's true." (My right shoe has always-since amputation-had to be a
custom job for the prosthesis. A living foot could not fit it.)
"I didn't go to a shoe shop; I went to a fabricatory having a general
pantograph and had them use your left shoe to synthesize a matching right shoe
through a mirror-image space warp. It should be identical with your left shoe,
but right-handed. Right-footed? Dexter."
"Thank you!" "I hope it fits. If that darned line jumper hadn't got himself
killed practically in my lap, I would have been home on time." I blinked at her.
"Uh, I find I'm astonished again. How is this place run? Is it an anarchy?"
Hazel shrugged. Justin Foote looked thoughtful. "No, I wouldn't say so. It
is not that well organized."
We left right after dinner in that four-place spaceplane- Hazel and I, a
small giant named Zeb, Hilda the tiny beauty, Lazarus, Dr
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