“He bounded past Fielding into Malbrook’s private apartment. The room was full of hot, choking vapor, the sybaritic luxury thrown into turmoil by the explosion. Plati- num-and-velvet furniture was overturned, gorgeous hangings ripped to shreds, delicately tinted walls racked and bulged. Another step, and he almost stumbled over something. Mace Malbrook, judging by the rags of that fire-colored mantle. No person could be so shattered and live. Beside him lay another still ...form, a flower-headed Martain, still moving slightly. Stooping, Stover picked up Prrala’s bladdery body and bore it out into the hall. Fielding was quavering into a vision-phone. “Send police! We have the corpse, yes—and the killer!” Spinning, he leveled a ray-thrower. “You’re under arrest, Stover,” he said. “Don’t be a fool,” snapped the other, laying Prrala upon the settle where Fielding had first been sitting.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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