"Charles L. Harness-Stalemate in Space" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

More and more frequently the condemned man turned his gaze to Evelyn. She poured a little of the
scent on her handkerchief. The prisoner coughed and rubbed his chin, trying to think.
The charges were finally read, and the defense attorney began his opening statement. The prisoner,
now coughing more frequently, was oblivious to all but the woman. Once she thought she saw a flicker of
recognition in his eyes, and she fanned herself hurriedly with her handkerchief.
The trial droned on to a close. It was a mere formality. The prosecutor summed up by proving that a
Terran woman had been captured, possibly named Evelyn Kane, turned over to the defendant for
registration and disposal, and that the defendant's weekly accounts failed to show a receipt for the
release of the woman. Q.E.D., the death sentence must be affirmed.
The light in the prisoner's eyes was growing clearer, despite his bronchial difficulties. He began now to
pay attention to what was said and to take notice of the other faces. It was as though he had finally found
the weapon he wanted, and patiently awaited an opportunity to use it.
The defense was closing. Counsel for the prisoner declared that the latter might have been the innocent
victim of the escapee, Evelyn Kane, possibly a telepathic Terran woman, because only a fool would have
permitted a prisoner to escape without attempting to juggle the prison records, unless his mind had been
under telepathic control. They ought to be looking for Evelyn Kane now, instead of wasting time with her
victim. She might be anywhere. She might even be in this building. He bowed apologetically to Evelyn,
she smiled at the faces suddenly looking at her with new interest.
The man in the prisoner's chair was peering at Evelyn through half-closed eyes, his arms crossed on his
chest. He had stopped coughing, and the fingers of his right hand were tapping patiently on his sleeve.
If Perat should at this moment probe the prisoner's mind...
Evelyn, in turning to smile at Perat, knocked the bottle from the table to the floor, where it broke in a
liquid tinkle. She put her hands to her mouth in contrite apology. The judge-provost frowned, and Perat
eyed her curiously. The prisoner was seized with such a spasm of coughing that the provost, who had
stood to pronounce sentence, paused in annoyance. The wracking ceased.
The provost picked up the Faeg lying before him.
"Have you anything to say before you die?" he asked coldly.
The ex-inquisitor stood and turned a triumphant face to him. "Excellency, you ask, where is the woman
prisoner who escaped from me? Well, I can tell you..."
He clutched wildly at his throat, coughed horribly and bent in Evelyn Kane's direction.
"She..."
His lips, which were rapidly growing purple, moved without saying anything intelligible, and he
suddenly crashed over the chair and to the floor.
The prison physician leaped to him, stethoscope out. After a few minutes, he stood up, puzzled and
frowning, in the midst of a strained silence. "Odd, very odd," he muttered.
"Did the prisoner faint?" asked the judge-provost incuriously, lowering the Faeg.
"The prisoner's lungs are filled with liquid, apparently the result of hyperactive adrenals," commented
the baffled physician. "He's dead, and don't ask me to explain why."
Evelyn smothered a series of hacking coughs in her handkerchief as the court broke up in excited
groups. From the corner of her eye she saw that Perat was studying her thoughtfully.
***


Four

* * *


Two weeks later, very late at "night," Perat lay stretched gloomily on his sleeping couch. On the other
side of the room, Evelyn was curled luxuriously on her own damasked lounge, her head propped high.