Mindswap Read Online Free Page A

said.
    The telepath mused for a moment, then said, 'I think I understand … It is these two who are accused. Is that it?'
    'It is,' the policeman said.
    'My apologies. Your aura of guilt led me to an over-hasty identification.'
    'Guilt?' the policeman said. 'Me?' He spoke calmly, but his skin was showing the typical orange striations of anxiety.
    'Yes, you,' the telepath said. 'You need not be surprised; grand larceny is the sort of thing about which most intelligent creatures feel guilty.'
    'Now just a minute!' the policeman shouted. 'I haven't committed any grand larceny!'
    The telepath closed his eyes and introspected. At last he said, 'That is correct. I meant to say that you
will
perform grand larceny.'
    'Clairvoyance is not admissable as evidence in a court of law,' the policeman stated. 'And furthermore, readings of the future are a direct violation of the law of free will.'
    'This is true,' the telepath said. 'My apologies.'
    'It's quite all right,' the policeman said. 'When will I perform this alleged grand larceny?'
    'About six months hence,' the telepath said.
    'And will I be arrested?'
    'No. You will flee the planet, going to a place where there is no extradition law.'
    'Hmm, interesting,' the policeman said. 'Could you tell me if … But we can discuss this later. Now, you must hear the stories of these men, and judge their innocence or guilt.'
    The telepath looked at Marvin, shook a flipper at him, and said, 'You may proceed.' Marvin told his story, beginning with his first reading of the advertisement and leaving out nothing.
    'Thank you,' the telepath said, when he was through. 'And now, sir, your story.' He turned to the old Martian, who cleared his throat, scratched his thorax, spat once or twice, and then proceeded.
    Aigeler Thrus' story
    I don't even know where to begin this thing, so I guess I'd better start with my name, which is Aigeler Thrus, and my race, which is Nemucthian Adventist, and my occupation, which is that I own and operate a clothing store on the planet Achelses V. Well, it's a small business and not a very good business and my store is located in Lambersa on the South Polar Cap, and I sell clothing all day to immigrant Venusian labourers, who are big, green, hairy fellows, very ignorant and very excitable and apt to fight, though I have no prejudices against them.
    You get to be philosophical in my business, and maybe I'm not rich, but at least I got my health (thank God), and my wife Allura is healthy too, except for a mild case of tentacular fibrosis. And I got two grown sons, one of whom is a doctor in Sidneport, and the other is a trainer of Klannts. And I also got one daughter, who is married, so of course that means I got a son-in-law.
    This son-in-law of mine I have always distrusted, since he is a fancy dresser and owns twenty pairs of chest-props, although his wife my daughter hasn't even got a matched set of scratchers. But it can't be helped, she dug her burrow, now she has to crawl in it. But still, when a man is so interested in clothes and fancy-smelling joint lubricants and similar luxuries on the salary of a moisture salesman (he calls himself a 'hydrosensory engineer') it mikes you wonder a little.
    And he's always trying to scratch up extra income on the side with various foolish ventures, which I have to equip him for out of my hard-earned savings, which I get by selling to these big green fellows. Like last year he got hold of this novelty item, a backyard cloudmaker, and I told him, who would want it? But my wife insisted that I help him out, and sure enough he went broke. And then this year, he had another scheme, and this time it was iridescent synthetic wool seconds from Vega II, a consignment of which he somehow found in Heligoport and which he wanted me to buy.
    I said to him, 'Look, what do my customers these Venusian loudmouths know about fancy dressing? They're lucky if they can afford a pair of twill shorts and maybe a robe for holidays.' But my son-in-law