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. You cosmic do-gooders have not convinced me."
"Let's see your ticket!"
It was Little Black Sambo, the sky marshal. "What ticket?" "The one that
entitles you to unscrew the inscrutable. Show it. You are just a lily-livered
coward, too yellow to do your plain duty."
"Really? Who appointed you God? Look, boy, I'm mighty glad that your skin
color matches mine."
"Why so?" "Because, if it didn't, I would be called a racist for the way I
despise you."
I saw him draw his side arm, but my cane, damn it!, had slid to the floor.
I was reaching for it when his bolt hit me, low on the left.
As he was hit from three sides, two to the heart, one to the head, by John
Sterling, by Lazarus, by Commander Smith- three crack gunmen, where one would
have sufficed.
I didn't hurt yet. But I knew I was gut-shot-bad, final bad, if I didn't
get help fast.
But something was happening to Samuel Beaux. He leaned forward and fell off
his chair, dead as King Charles-and his body began to disappear. It didn't fade
out; it disappeared in swipes, through the middle, then across the face, as if
someone had taken an eraser to a chalkboard. Then he was gone completely; not
even blood was left. Even his chair was gone.
And the wound in my gut was gone.
XXIX
'There may come a time when the lion and the lamb will lie down together,
but I am still betting on the lion
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