"Who've you got in the Observation Room?" Boyd asked.
"Queen Elizabeth I," Malone said. "Her Royal Majesty."
"Oh," Boyd said without surprise. "Well, was Brubitsch telling the truth?"
"He wasn't holding back anything important," Malone said, thinking about the girl. It would be nice to meet a bad influence, he thought mournfully. It would be nice to go somewhere with a bad influence—a bad influence, he amended, with a good figure—and forget all about his job, about the spies, about telepathy, teleportation, psionics and everything else. It might be restful.
Unfortunately, it was impossible.
"What's this business about a static explosion?" Boyd said.
"Don't ask silly questions," Malone said. "A static explosion is a contradiction in terms. If something is static, it doesn't move—and whoever heard of a motionless explosion?"
"If it is a contradiction in terms," Boyd said, "they're your terms."
"Sure," Malone said. "But I don't know what they mean. I don't even know what I mean."
"You're in a bad way," Boyd said, looking sympathetic.