Pauker had killed ten men to get eight million dollars. Now his flight to Mars would insure his safety from justice. Or would it? His poise was perfect as he crossed the concourse with the highly vaulted ceiling. He moved with purpose but not in haste, his arms swinging freely, eyes straight ahead. At his heels, the squat, robot luggage-carrier dutifully followed the "bone" which he carried in his right hand.…
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