large/3090/police_op_0810_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeoperation_08_piper_64kb_15
large/3090/police_op_0810_librivox_64kb_mp3/policeoperation_08_piper_64kb
English
3090
He alluded to the baroque amatory practices of the Third Level Illyalla people, and soothed himself, in the classical Dar Halma tongue, with one of those rambling genealogical insults favored in the Indo Turanian Sector of the Fourth Level. HE ALLUDED TO THE BAROCH AMATORY PRACTICES OF THE THIRD LEVEL ILLU PEOPLE AND SOOTHED THEMSELVES IN THE CLASSICAL DARHAMA TONGUE WITH ONE OF THOSE RAMBLING GENELOGICAL INSULTS FAVORED IN THE INDOTERANIAN SECTOR OF THE FOURTH LEVEL
ging a respectable Fourth-Level leatherette case from under the seat, he opened it and took out a pint bottle with a red poison-label, and a towel. Saturating the towel with the contents of the bottle, he rubbed every inch of his torso with it, so as not to miss even the smallest break made in his skin by the septic claws of the nighthound. Whenever the lotion-soaked towel touched raw skin, a pain like the burn of a hot iron shot through him; before he was through, he was in agony. Satisfied that he had disinfected every wound, he dropped the towel and clung weakly to the side of the jeep. He grunted out a string of English oaths, and capped them with an obscene Spanish blasphemy he had picked up among the Fourth Level inhabitants of his island home of Nerros, to the south, and a thundering curse in the name of Mogga, Fire-God of Dool, in a Third-Level tongue. He mentioned Fasif, Great God of Khift, in a manner which would have got him an acid-bath if the Khiftan priests had heard him.  IDENTIFIABLE AS SUCH DIGGING A RESPECTABLE FOURTH LEVEL LEATHERET CASE FROM UNDER THE SEAT HE OPENED IT AND TOOK OUT A PINT BOTTLE WITH A RED POISON LABEL AND A TOWEL SATURATING THE TOWEL WITH THE CONTENTS OF THE BOTTLE HE RUBBED EVERY INCH OF HIS TORSO WITH IT SO AS NOT TO MISS EVEN THE SMALLEST BREAK MADE IN HIS SKIN BY THE SEPTIC CLAWS OF THE NIGHTHOUND WHEREVER THE LOCE AND SILK TOWEL TOUCHED RAW SKIN A PAIN LIKE THE BURN OF A HOT IRON SHOT THROUGH HIM BEFORE HE WAS THROUGH HE WAS IN AGONY SATISFIED THAT HE HAD DISINFECTED EVERY WOUND HE DROPPED THE TOWEL AND CLUNG WEAKLY TO THE SIDE OF THE JEEP HE GRUNTED OUT A STRING OF ENGLISH OATHS AND CAPPED THEM WITH AN OBSCENE SPANISH BLASPHEMY HE HAD PICKED UP AMONG THE FOURTH LEVEL INHABITANTS OF HIS ISLAND HOME OF NEROS TO THE SOUTH AND A THUNDERING CURSE IN THE NAME OF MOGA FIRE GOD OF DUEL IN A THIRD LEVEL TONGUE HE MENTIONED PHOSEIV GREAT GOD OF KIFT IN A MANNER WHICH WOULD HAVE GOT HIM AN ACID BATH IF THE KIFTON PRIESTS HAD HEARD HIM
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