Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн

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“Grant!” Bee screamed. “Oh, no! Grant darling, look up!”

Her radiance was almost blinding. He half-twisted to reach her, and then his eyes caught it—the ugly sheen of the fast-growing ball. Desperately he turned, and it shifted in unison. Then she shrieked once more, despairingly, and he threw himself flat, arms outstretched, toward her.

The ball’s speed was so great that it shattered to pieces against the shield behind him.

From back of the barrier ran Bee. She crouched beside him, and her enveloping warmth lifted the evil spell from his mind. The loud confusion of the crowd burst upon him, he saw the referee’s swiftly lowering bubble. He was in control of himself, thanks to Bee’s interference, and could act on the knowledge so dangerously gained.

“The murderer!” Grant pulled Bee up with him. “We’ve got him!”

Opposite them, Slag still lay on the court.

“I don’t see how he did it,” Grant said bewilderedly.

“Not Slag—him!” She pointed out the small, running figure.

Teagle battered vainly at a gate. The still-active screen held him back, and the man’s face was a despairing white grimace. Then Grant was upon him, and took him by the throat.