The Man Who Flew could
not exist--but he had
committed a foul crime!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1962.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Clouds hung low over the city, gray and dismal. The shining metal
thruway partially reflected their somber visage. A few vehicles
scurried nervously through the city.
Keller turned away from the window dismally. His conscience was
bothering him, and it affected his every movement. Looking over his
humbly furnished office, he entertained the thought, not for the first
time, that he should change jobs if he wanted to eat.
A buzz sounded--the intercom system. That would be Sally, his
secretary. It was a mystery what she would want. Usually she never
bothered him except in case of an emergency, and the last client Keller
had had dropped his case three months ago.
Apparently it was another customer, unlikely as it seemed. Keller
heard voices outside, Sally's irritated and protesting, and a nervous
baritone. Abruptly the door opened, disclosing a rugged, bushy-haired
C-3 (average intelligence and advanced extra-sensory perception, but
unexercised), who was in a bad state of nerves.
He seemed to have forced his way past Sally into the inner office.