"'Bout a week. I don't believe in rushin' nothin'."
"Hey, barkeep!" yelled someone down at the far end. The bartender went, and Brek downed his whiskey. He sipped the beer reflectively, thinking long and hard.
Jon Sagginer had been convicted once for illegal use of a time machine, and had been sentenced to ten years on Luna. Somehow, he'd managed to escape and, by bluff and daring, actually get control of a Time Patrol Chronokinetic Projector long enough to use it and kidnap the operator, Dori Clayton.
It was bad enough to use the machine, Brek thought darkly, but to take Dori—
Brek clenched his fists. For kidnapping Dori, Sagginer would take his punishment from Brek, not the law.
The first thing to do was find him. Reading the power flow of a Chronokinetic Projector could only give an approximate location. Sagginer had landed within fifty miles of this spot, and at some time within the past five years—but where was he now?
And, Brek asked himself—did he still have Dori with him? Five years is a long time.
In the course of a year or two, Sagginer could be a long way from Plata City, but Brek had a hunch that this was his goal. He didn't know he could be traced, and he wasn't prepared for travel.
But—
Suddenly, a finger tapped his shoulder and he whirled in surprise. He saw a man wearing a big silver star prominently on his vest.