"Oh, that. I'll whip out a story on it in a couple of days."
"No hurry. Find out all you can about it. Give you something to do while you're waiting around."
He put down the mike and faded from the screen.
So I promptly did my damnedest to forget all about Isaac Grogan and telenosis. I spent the rest of the day at the beach, sprawled out on the hot sand with the defense mech beside me and an army of people—humans and aliens—surrounding me. Only once, at about four o'clock, did the defense mech start going click-click-click. I timed it. It lasted three minutes and then quit.
When I got back to the hotel, at about five, a man fell into step with me as soon as I entered the lobby.
"Name's Maxwell," he told me. "C.I.D. I'm one of your bodyguards for a while."
"How many others do I rate?" I asked.
He was a tall, heavily built young man in his middle twenties. He carried a briefcase. We headed for the elevator.
"Only one," he replied, "but he'll stay pretty much out of sight. He'll join us in your room after a while. We have to ask you a lot of questions."