"Then you can't arrest me."
"This gun says I can. I also have orders which say I can." With his free hand Sertant groped about the top of his desk, never letting his eye leave Tedor. Presently he found a sheet of paper tucked under his blotter, passed it across the desk-top.
Tedor scanned it quickly, and with mounting incredulity. It proclaimed:
HEADQUARTERS
CENTURY AGENTS
OFFICE OF THE CHIEF
To all Agents, all centuries: Important. Century Agent C-20 Tedor Barwan—now on vacation, whenabouts unknown—is to be detained on sight for possible connection with or knowledge of serious case of time tinkering. Signed. Mulid Ruscar, Chief.
"It's Ruscar's signature," said Tedor, "but I still say you can't hold me."
"This gun says I can," Sertant repeated. "I'm sorry, Barwan, but those are my orders. I hardly know anything about it myself, although something seems to be popping right here in this century."
Tedor began to think of getting away. It was something to think about, but not at the moment, for Sertant seemed on the point of telling him something which might be of value.
"Ruscar is here, right here in Twenty. It appears whatever is happening is sufficiently important to demand his presence."
"Well, then, what's happening?"