"No, but--" I stopped. That was a matter to be taken up with Defoe, I
told myself, and I was beginning to feel a little angry, too.
"All right," I said. "There's been a mistake; I'll see that it's
straightened out. But even if it was true, did you think I was the kind
of man to join a bunch of murderers?"
"We are not murderers!"
"Hammond's body says different."
"We had nothing to do with that, Tom!"
"Your friend Slovetski did." It was a shot in the dark. It missed by a
mile.
She said loftily: "If he is such a killer, how did you escape? When I
had my interview with you, and it became apparent that the expediters
were less than accurate, the information came a little late. You could
easily have given us trouble--Slovetski was in the next room. Why
didn't he shoot you dead?"
"Maybe he didn't want to be bothered with my body."
"And maybe you are all wrong about us!"
"No! If you're against the Company, I _can't_ be wrong. The Company is
the greatest blessing the world has ever known--it's made the world a
paradise!"
"It has?" She made a snorting sound. "How?"
"By bringing countless blessings to all of us. _Countless!_"