Shannon's Imperial Circus was a jinxed space-carny leased for a mysterious tour of the inner worlds. It made a one-night pitch on a Venusian swamp-town--to find that death stalked it from the jungle in a tiny ball of flame. Bucky Shannon leaned forward across the little hexagonal table. He knocked over the pitcher of _thil_, but it didn't matter. The pitcher was empty. He jabbed me in the breastbone with his forefinger, not very hard. Not hard enough to jar the ribs clean loose, just enough to spring them.…
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