built into it. Even his
heartbeat has to be controlled electronically."

"Shame," said Frobisher, spearing a bit of sausage. "Kind of rough on
both of 'em, I'd guess."

"How do you mean, dear?"

"Well, I mean, like ... well, for instance, why are they going over to
the play area? Play games, right? So the one that's well has got to push
his brother over there. Can't just get out and go; has to take the
brother along, too. Kind of a burden, see?"

Mrs. Frobisher turned away from the window. "Why, Larry! I'm surprised
at you. Really! Don't you think the boy _should_ take care of his
brother?"

"Oh, now, honey, I didn't mean that. It's hard on _both_ of 'em. The kid
in the chair has to sit there and watch his brother play baseball or
jai alai or whatever, while he can't do anything himself. Like I say,
kind of rough on both of 'em."

"Well, yes, I suppose it must be. Want some more coffee?"

"Thanks, honey. And another slice of toast, hunh?"

_[10]_

Like some horrendous, watchful gargoyle, the Nipe crouched motionlessly
on the shadowed roof of the low building. A short projection from the
air-conditioning intake was wide enough to keep him from being seen from
the air, and the darkness of the roof prevented anyone on the street
from seeing the four violet eyes that kept a careful account of all that
went on in the store across the way from his observation post.

The lights were still on inside the shop, shedding their glareless
brightness through the transparent display windows to fall upon the
street outside in large luminous pools. The Nipe knew exactly what each
man remaining inside was doing, and approximately what each would be
doing for the next few minutes, and he watched with the expectation that
his prophecies would be fulfilled.

He had watched long and made a thorough study of this establishment, and
tonight he expected to attain the goal for which he had worked so
patiently.

This raid was important in two ways. There were pieces of equipment he
had to get, and they were in that shop. On the other hand, this raid
was, and would be, basically a diversionary tactic. Now that he had
located his real target, it was time to create a diversion that would
draw his enemy's attention away from his immediate surroundings. This
would be a raid that Colonel Walther Mannheim could not ignore!

Two men came out the front door. They spoke to someone still inside. "So
long." "See you tomorrow." Then t