By Mack Reynolds
On a destiny Earth wracked via strife and shortages, Roy Cos buys right into a life of ease during the Deathwish coverage, yet his privileged prestige makes him a objective for killers employed via the elite Worldgov.
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Hotel Rome," the driver said expansively. "Very cheap. Almost clean. " Frank looked out blankly. " he said. "She's on second floor, third floor, fourth floor. You don't pay more than ten dirhams, eh? Luigi, he's a crook. He try to charge you more, eh? You can't trust Italianos. Okay, Jack. That'll be fifteen dirhams, Jack. Cheap. " Frank got out of his side of the cab, brought forth his Moroccan coins, and handed six dirhams through the window. "The rate's five dirhams and here's one more for a tip," he said.
The only proles in Green-point would be service workers commuting from other nearby towns. Private cars and even hovercabs were, of course, prohibited on the surface; small electric buses wound slowly around the narrow roads that connected all points, all buildings. Hamp looked again at his note, checked a bus schedule on a bulletin board next to the entry to the metro terminal, and waited to be taken to the William Penn Building. It was late afternoon and he hoped to be in Manhattan by evening.
It sounds wizard," he admitted. "Uh, my name is Horace Hampton. I had an appointment with Mr. " "Ms. Garrett," she said, smiling again as she poured drinks into two cocktail glasses. " Hamp stared. He'd had no indication from Max Finklestein that this new contact was a youthful blonde, startlingly blue of eye, immaculately turned out and, frankly, implausibly beautiful. She wore a gold and red afternoon frock that would have cost half a year's credit to a prole on GAS. Her hairdo and her cosmetics were such that surely she had just emerged from a beauty salon, or a dressing room of an advertising agency.