By Philip E. High
Glance down into the streets, the constructions, the parks. there's your battleground. Down there's the enemy--an enemy who wears no uniform. He walks at the back of you on the street, sits with you for those who consume and maybe swims beside you in a public pool. He might ask you for a mild, promote you a flyer, or in one other shape, go away the odor of fragrance in your pillow. The enemy is old and young, female and male and he's all over the place. may any such state of affairs come up ... or has it already arisen? during this intriguing tale novel, the writer depicts an international at struggle. An undercover struggle, so skilfully manipulated that sixty in keeping with cent of the inhabitants are ignorant of its lifestyles. but, day-by-day, the casualty figures climb larger and higher...
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Maynard was shocked. Dawnson said, without malice: You have unwittingly provided the Enemy with funds. " � Too big. The enemy control two-thirds of the news services, all betting, all sport, all vice and ninety-two per cent of entertainment services. In other spheres such as the regular police, the armed services and local and provincial government, every third man is in Enemy pay. Further, no criminal, large or small, operates outside the Organization. " Maynard frowned at him. " � We're outnumbered by approximately four hundred and twenty to one, said the woman, Maureen.
A fat, brown-faced man sat behind the desk, resting his chin on his hands as if brooding. � You heard. Someone pushed a chair against the back of his knees and he sat rather heavily. He removed his chin from his hands and showed small white teeth, briefly. Smith. You are Peter Maynard, aged thirty years, two months and ten days. " He paused and looked at the other directly. A third-class technician holding on to a second-class ticket with his finger nails. You don't rate second-class, not really, you wear it because of a naďve honesty.
Yes, that's Gentle, another reg- Hey! You haven't taken hypno-recognition yet. " Maynard shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. I can see them, theylook different. I spent all yesterday afternoon's break, checking them with an identifying computer. " Maynard paused and cleared his throat. As you have discovered, I can project a change of appearance which seems to work up to a distance of say, four hundred paces, after which the illusion fades. " Reed scowled at him.