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. He shoved a clipboard at me.
"Sign here. Senator." Then he pulled it back. "Say, you are the Senator from
Standard Oil, ain't you?"
V
"He is one of those people who would be enormously improved by death.**
H.H.MUNRO 1870-1916
I said, "You have that backwards. Who are you? Identify yourself."
"Hunh? If you ain't the Senator, forget it; I got the wrong address." He
started to back out and bumped his behind against the door-looked startled and
turned his head, reached for the dilator button.
I slapped his hand down. "I told you to identify yourself. That clown suit
you're wearing is no identification; I want to see your credentials. Gwen! Cover
him!"
"Right, Senator!"
He reached for a hip pocket, made a fast draw. Gwen kicked whatever it was
out of his hand; I chopped him in the left side of his neck. His clipboard went
flying and down he went, falling with the curiously graceful leisureliness of
low gravity.
I knelt by him. "Keep him covered, Gwen."
"One second. Senator-watch him!" I pulled back and waited. She went on,
"Okay now. But don't get in my line of fire. please."
"Roger wilco." I kept my eyes on our guest, collapsed loosely on the deck.
His awkward posture seemed to say that he was unconscious. Nevertheless there
was a chance that he was shamming; I had not hit him all that hard. So I applied
my thumb to the left lower cervical pressure point, jabbing hard to cause him to
scream and claw at the ceiling if he were awake
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