[Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science
Fiction August 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
_Logic's a wonderful thing; by logical analysis, one can determine the
necessary reason for the existence of a dead city of a very high order
on an utterly useless planet. Obviously a shipping transfer point!
Necessarily..._
"Mendez?" said the young man in the blue-and-green tartan jacket. "Why,
yes ... sure I've heard of it. Why?"
The clerk behind the desk looked again at the information screen.
"That's the destination we have on file for Scholar Duckworth, Mr.
Turnbull. That was six months ago." He looked up from the screen,
waiting to see if Turnbull had any more questions.
Turnbull tapped his teeth with a thumbnail for a couple of seconds, then
shrugged slightly. "Any address given for him?"
"Yes, sir. The Hotel Byron, Landing City, Mendez."