The Time Traders
Norton, Andre Alice
Published:
1958
Type(s):
Novels, Science Fiction
Source:
http://www.gutenberg.org
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About Norton:
Andre Alice Norton (February 17, 1912 – March 17, 2005), science fic-tion and fantasy author (with some works of historical fiction and con-temporary fiction), was born Alice Mary Norton in Cleveland, Ohio, inthe United States. She published her first novel in 1934. She was the firstwoman to receive the Gandalf Grand Master Award from the WorldScience Fiction Society in 1977, and she won the Damon Knight Memori-al Grand Master Award from the SFWA in 1983. She wrote under thenoms de plume Andre Norton, Andrew North and Allen Weston.Source: Wikipedia
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Chapter
1
To anyone who glanced casually inside the detention room the youngman sitting there did not seem very formidable. In height he might have been a little above average, but not enough to make him noticeable. His brown hair was cropped conservatively; his unlined boy's face was notone to be remembered—unless one was observant enough to note thoselight-gray eyes and catch a chilling, measuring expression showing nowand then for an instant in their depths.Neatly and inconspicuously dressed, in this last quarter of the twenti-eth century his like was to be found on any street of the city ten floors be-low—to all outward appearances. But that other person under the pro-tective coloring so assiduously cultivated could touch heights of encasedand controlled fury which Murdock himself did not understand and wasonly just learning to use as a weapon against a world he had alwaysfound hostile.He was aware, though he gave no sign of it, that a guard was watchinghim. The cop on duty was an old hand—he probably expected some re-action other than passive acceptance from the prisoner. But he was notgoing to get it. The law had Ross sewed up tight this time. Why didn'tthey get about the business of shipping him off? Why had he had that af-ternoon session with the skull thumper? Ross had been on the defensivethen, and he had not liked it. He had given to the other's questions all theattention his shrewd mind could muster, but a faint, very faint, appre-hension still clung to the memory of that meeting.The door of the detention room opened. Ross did not turn his head, but the guard cleared his throat as if their hour of mutual silence haddried his vocal cords. "On your feet, Murdock! The judge wants to seeyou."Ross rose smoothly, with every muscle under fluid control. It neverpaid to talk back, to allow any sign of defiance to show. He would gothrough the motions as if he were a bad little boy who had realized his
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