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.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlPortolondon.But the monotony, the.shut-in-ness.was eating meaway.Professor Matsuyama offered me a position on the team he was organizingto examine Commissioner Hauch Land.Ithought, God help me, I thought Jimmy Tim wanted him named James, once thetests showed it'd be a boy, after his own father and because of 'Timmy andJimmy' and Oh, I thought Jimmy could safely come along.I couldn't bear toleave him behind for months, not at his age.We could make sure he'd neverwander out of camp.What could hurt him inside it? / had never believed thosestories about the Outlings stealing human children.I supposed parents weretrying to hide from themselves the fact they'd been careless, they'd let a kidget lost in the woods or attacked by a pack of satans or Well, I learnedbetter, Mr.Sherrinford.The guard robots were evaded and the dogs weredrugged and when I woke, Jimmy was gone."He regarded her through the smoke from his pipe.Barbro Engdahl Cullen was abig woman of thirty or so (Rolandic years, he reminded himself, ninety-fivepercent of Terrestrial, not the same asBeowulfan years), broad-shouldered, long-legged, full-breasted, supple ofTHE QUEEN OF AIR AND DARKNESS 331stride; her face was wide, straight nose, straightforward hazel eyes, heavybut mobile mouth; her hair was reddish-brown, cropped below the ears, hervoice husky, her garment a plain street robe.To still the writhing of herfingers, he asked skeptically, "Do you now believe in the Outlings?""No.I'm just not so sure as I was." She swung about with half a glare forhim."And we have found traces.""Bits of fossils," he nodded."A few artifacts of a neolithic sort.Butapparently ancient, as if the makers died ages ago.Intensive search hasfailed to turn up any real evidence for their survival.""How intensive can search be, in a summer-stormy, winter-gloomy wildernessaround the NorthPole?" she demanded."When we are, how many, a million people on an entireplanet, half of us crowded into this one city?""And the rest crowding this one habitable continent," he pointed out."Arctica covers five million square kilometers," she flung back."The ArcticZone proper covers a fourth of it.We haven't the industrial base to establishsatellite monitor stations, build aircraft we can trust in those parts, driveroads through the damned darklands and establish permanent bases and get toknow them and tame them.Good Christ, generations of lonely outway-men toldstories about Graymantle, and the beast was never seen by a proper scientisttill last year!""Still, you continue to doubt the reality of the Outlings?""Well, what about a secret cult among humans, bora of isolation and ignorance,lairing in the wilderness, stealing children when they can for " Sheswallowed.Her head drooped."But you're supposed to be the expert.""From what you told me over the visiphone, the Porto-london constabularyquestions the accuracy of the report your group made, thinks the lot of youwere hysterical, claims you must have omitted a due precaution and the childtoddled away and was lost beyond your finding."His dry words pried the horror out of her.Flushing, she snapped: "Like anysettler's kid? No.Ididn't simply332Poul Anderson yell.I consulted Data Retrieval.A few too many such cases arerecorded for accident to be a very plausible explanation.And shall we totallyignore the frightened stories about reappearances? But when I went back to theconstabulary with my facts, they brushed me off.I suspect that was notentirely because they're undermanned.I think they're afraid too.They'rerecruited from country boys;and Portolondon lies near the edge of the unknown."Her energy faded."Roland hasn't got any central police force," she finisheddrably."You're myPage 190ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmllast hope."The man puffed smoke into twilight, with which it blent, before he said in akindlier voice than hitherto: "Please don't make it a high hope, Mrs.Cullen.I'm the solitary private investigator on this world, having no resourcesbeyond myself, and a newcomer to boot
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