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Bradley, Marion Zimmer, 1930-1999

"The Door Through Space"

We don't like Earthmen who
can do that. In settling your feud, you will be aiding us, and removing
a danger. We would be ... grateful."
He opened his closed hand, displaying something small, curled, inert.
"Every living thing emits a characteristic pattern of electrical nerve
impulses. We have ways of recording those impulses, and we have had you
and Cargill under observation for a long time. We've had plenty of
opportunity to key this Toy to Cargill's pattern."
On his palm the curled thing stirred, spread wings. A fledgling bird lay
there, small soft body throbbing slightly. Half-hidden in a ruff of
metallic feathers I glimpsed a grimly elongated beak. The pinions were
feathered with delicate down less than a quarter of an inch long. They
beat with delicate insistence against the Toymaker's prisoning fingers.
"This is not dangerous to you. Press here"--he showed me--"and if Race
Cargill is within a certain distance--and it is up to you to be _within_
that distance--it will find him, and kill him.


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