On the whole, it was worth the trip. The plains really were broad and grain-
gold, if scarred with fences and agricultural crawlers. The mountains were
overwhelming. And however much of the capital city is crusted with squat brick
and faceless concrete hulks, there are still flashes of its historic charm.
You've seen spires above the streets -- tiny green parks below tenements --
hidden jewels of fountains below walls.
You might as well cut the crap now. For you're a spy, and not a very good one
at that. You got into the enemy's facility all right. You recaptured the
defector -- and then you got caught on the way out, so near to freedom.
Your captors got everything: that for which you came, your gun, the briefcase
full of exciting spy tools--including your blue voice activator, with its
keywords "Hokey" to increase its setting and "Pokey" to decrease it.
You've been through the mind-ream. You've finally told the story of how you
got in, acquired the target, and nearly got out. Your interrogator is
satisfied. There's only one question left. And after that...well, it's the end
of your career.
Chicken and Egg
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