"Careful, Jill! That kind of stuff...."
"Is very old stuff indeed, Daddy dear. Simple. And Herkimer Third isn't really a menace; he just thinks he is. Take a look—you can, can't you, with your Lens?"
"Perhaps ... Oh, yes. I see him as well as you do." Fully en rapport with the girl as he was, so that his mind received simultaneously with hers any stimulus which she was willing to share, it seemed as though a keen, handsome, deeply tanned face bent down from a distance of inches toward his own. "But I don't like it a bit—and him even less."
"That's because you aren't a girl," Jill giggled mentally. "This is fun; and it won't hurt him a bit, except maybe for a slightly bruised vanity, when I don't fall down flat at his feet. And I'm learning a lot that he hasn't any suspicion he's giving away."
"Knowing you, I believe that. But don't ... that is ... well, be very careful not to get your fingers burned. The job isn't worth it—yet."
"Don't worry, Dad." She laughed unaffectedly. "When it comes to playboys like this one, I've got millions and skillions and whillions of ohms of resistance. But here comes Senator Morgan himself, with a fat and repulsive Venerian—he's calling my boy-friend away from me, with what he thinks is an imperceptible high-sign, into a huddle—and my olfactory nerves perceive a rich and fruity aroma, as of skunk—so ... I hate to seem to be giving a Solarian Councillor the heave-ho, but if I want to read what goes on—and I certainly do—I'll have to concentrate. As soon as you get back give us a call and we'll report. Take it easy, Dad!"
"You're the one to be told that, not me. Good hunting, Jill!"
Samms, still seated calmly at his desk, reached out and pressed a button marked "GARAGE". His office was on the seventieth floor; the garage occupied level after level of sub-basement. The screen brightened; a keen young face appeared.
"Good evening, Jim. Will you please send my car up to the Wright Skyway feeder?"
"At once, sir. It will be there in seventy five seconds."