large/3090/police_op_0810_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeoperation_07_piper_64kb_13
large/3090/police_op_0810_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeoperation_07_piper_64kb
English
3090
At this season, a falling temperature would speedily follow. The nighthound, a creature of the hot Venus marshes, would suffer from the cold, and, taught by years of domestication to find warmth among human habitations, it would invade some isolated farmhouse, or, worse, one of the little valley villages. AT THIS SEASON A FALLING TEMPERATURE WOULD SPEEDILY FOLLOW THE NIGHTHOUND A CREATURE OF THE HOT VENUS MARSHES WOULD SUFFER FROM THE COLD AND TAUGHT BY YEARS OF DOMESTICATION TO FIND WARMTH AMONG HUMAN HABITATIONS IT WOULD INVADE SOME ISOLATED FARMHOUSE OR WORSE ONE OF THE LITTLE VALLEY VILLAGES
areful, Vall. It took me close to forty years to make a paratimer out of you; I don't want to have to repeat the process with somebody else before I can retire." * * * * * The grass was wet as Verkan Vall--who reminded himself that here he was called Richard Lee--crossed the yard from the farmhouse to the ramshackle barn, in the early autumn darkness. It had been raining that morning when the strato-rocket from Dhergabar had landed him at the Hagraban Synthetics Works, on the First Level; unaffected by the probabilities of human history, the same rain had been coming down on the old Kinchwalter farm, near Rutter's Fort, on the Fourth Level. And it had persisted all day, in a slow, deliberate drizzle. He didn't like that. The woods would be wet, muffling his quarry's footsteps, and canceling his only advantage over the night-prowler he hunted. He had no idea, however, of postponing the hunt. If anything, the rain had made it all the more imperative that the nighthound be killed at once. ION THIS IS A LIBER BOX RECORDING ALL LIVERPOX RECORDINGS ARE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN FOR MORE INFORMATION OR TO VOLUNTEER PLEASE VISIT LIBERVOX DOTT BORG POLICE OPERATION BY H BING PIPER SECTION SEVEN THE GRASS WAS WET AS VERKAN VALL WHO REMINDED HIMSELF THAT HERE HE WAS CALLED RICHARD LEE CROSSED THE YARD FROM THE FARMHOUSE TO THE RAMSHACKLE BARN IN THE EARLY AUTUMN DARKNESS IT HAD BEEN RAINING THAT MORNING WHEN THE STRATO ROCKET FROM DHERGABAR HAD LANDED HIM AT THE HAGRABAN SYNTHETIC WORKS ON THE FIRST LEVEL UNAFFECTED BY THE PROBABILITIES OF HUMAN HISTORY THE SAME RAIN HAD BEEN COMING DOWN ON THE OLD KINCHWALTER FARM NEAR RUTTER'S FORT ON THE FOURTH LEVEL IT HAD PERSISTED ALL DAY IN A SLOW DELIBERATE DRIZZLE HE DIDN'T LIKE THAT THE WOODS WOULD BE WET MUFFLING HIS QUARRY'S FOOTSTEPS AND CANCELING HIS ONLY ADVANTAGE OVER THE NIGHT PROWLER HE HUNTED HE HAD NO IDEA HOWEVER OF POSTPONING THE HUNT IF ANYTHING THE RAIN HAD MADE IT ALL THE MORE IMPERATIVE THAT THE NIGHTHOUND BE KILLED AT ONCE
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