fcfTERSTELLAR FLASH tATROL SEIZES PARSONS
•CTERSTELLAR BULLETIN
FROSTBITE— IN A TELEPHONE MESSAGE TO INTERSTELLAR NEWS SERVICE A PATROL SPOKESMAN $AJD GEORGE PARSONS HAD BEEN TAKEN INTO CtSTODY AND UNMISTAKABLY IDENTIFIED. PAR-
SONS HAD BEEN LIVING A LIE ON FROSTBITE, USING THE NAME CHENERY AND THE GUISE OF A COLUMNIST FOR PARSONS’ NEWSPAPER. SAID THE PATROL SPOKESMAN;—”IT IS A TYPICAL MANEUVER. WE NEVER GOT SO FAR ALONG THE CHAIN OF J-K-B PEDDLERS THAT WE NEVER FOUND ONE MORE. APPARENTLY THE SOURCE OF THE DRUG HIMSELF THOUGHT HE COULD PUT HIMSELF OUT OF THE REACH OF INTERPLANETARY JUSTICE BY ASSUMING A FICTITIOUS PERSONALITY. HOWEVER, WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY IDENTIFIED HIM AND EXPECT A CONFESSION WITHIN THE HOUR. PARSONS APPEARS TO BE A J-K-B ADDICT HIMSELF.
INTERSTELLAR FLASH PARSONS CONFESSES
CFIRST LEAD FROSTBITE)
FROSTBITE—ISN—THE UNITED PLANETS PATROL AND THE INTERSTELLAR NEWS SERVICE JOINED HANDS TODAY IN TRIUMPH AFTER WIPING OUT THE MOST VICIOUS NEST OF DRUGMAKERS IN THE GALAXY. J-K-B, THE INFAMOUS NARCOTIC WHICH HAS MENACED—
I ground out nearly thirty thousand words of copy that night Bleary-eyed at the end of the run, I could barely read a note that came across:
NOTE FRBBUO: WELL DONE. RETURN MARS JMMY: SNDNG REPLCEMNT. MARSBUO MCG.
The Patrol flagship took me back in a quick, smooth trip with lots of service and no yaks.
After a smooth landing I took an eastbound chair from the field and whistled as the floater lifted me to the ISN floor. The newsroom was quiet for a change and the boys and girls stood up for me.
McGillicuddy stepped out from the copy table slot to say: “Welcome back. Frankly, I didn’t think you had it hi you, but you proved me wrong. You’re a credit to the profession and the ISN.” Portwanger was there, too. “A pragmatist, your McGillicuddy,” he muttered. “But you did a good job.”
I didn’t pay very much attention; my eyes were roving over no man’s land. Finally I asked McGillicuddy: “Where’s Miss Masters? Day off?”
“How do you like that?” laughed McGillicuddy. “I forgot
to tell you. She’s your replacement on Frostbite. Fired her off yesterday. I thought the woman’s angle—where do you think you’re going?”
“Honest Blogri’s Olde Earthe Saloon,” I told him with dignity. “If you want me, I’ll be under the third table from the left as you come in. With sawdust in my hair.”