Well, at least his mind was made up. Lawrence would have his options. And with forty-nine percent of the stock between them they could gamble on getting a favorable vote.
"What about it, Marty?" the broker asked impatiently.
"Sorry," Black said. "The answer is no, Charlie! I want that stock."
He rang off.
Moments later his consciousness was on its way to keep the rendezvous with Joyce high in the evening sky over Oklahoma, up where the blue of the atmosphere turned to the black of infinity.
And moments later lights blazed over a table in a realty office in Los Angeles where no one sat. But pens lifted and wrote....
" D. V. Lawrence by Martin J. Black, his attorney-in-fact. "
" J. F. Cadigan Realty Corporation by Richard Joyce, Vice-President. "
Another pen lifted with the invisible but delicate twist of a feminine psi-touch.
" Before me this ninth day of September in the year Nineteen Hundred and Seventy-six Anno Domini psionically appeared.... "