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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4-5-6-7
CHAPTER-8-9
CHAPTER-10-11
CHAPTER-12-13-14-15
CHAPTER-16-17
CHAPTER-18-19
CHAPTER-20-21-22
CHAPTER-23-24-25
CHAPTER-26-27-28
CHAPTER-29-30
CHAPTER-31.1
CHAPTER-31.2
CHAPTER-31.3
CHAPTER-32
CHAPTER-33
CHAPTER-34-35-36-37-38
CHAPTER-39-40-41-42
CHAPTER-43-44-45
CHAPTER-46-47
CHAPTER-48
CHAPTER-49-50
CHAPTER-51
CHAPTER-52-53
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18

CHAPTER NINE 

 

 

"Russian?" Brice asked, looking at Sam Morgan. 

 

The dark complected Fed pulled the mangled cigar from his mouth and 

pointed it toward the twisted wreckage. On the far side, Cartwell and 

Dickson were looking it over. 

 

"Why not?" Morgan asked. 

 

"It seems outlandish, somehow." 

 

Morgan grinned, his peg-like teeth flashing. "You small town cops are 

good. I won't take that from you. But you look at everything from a 

local viewpoint. In our business, you broaden, you might say. 

 

"Look at the facts, Nolan. The Defense boys spotted the thing up north. 

Radar locked on it and gave it a speed of over two thousand miles per. 

So it crashes and we find no wings, no tail assembly ... and I have the 

hunch that the damned thing ran on nuclear power." 

 

"Atomic?" Nolan whispered, amazed. While the Federal cop talked about 

nuclear power and fantastic speeds, all Brice could think of was the 

watch he'd found at the scene. How the hell could an artist learn to 

pilot a thing like that in a mere thirteen months, and what the hell was 

behind it all. "You mean, atomic power?" 

 

Morgan nodded. "See that funnel shaped gismo over there, with the round 

ball-like affair?" He was pointing to what was probably the tail of the 

ship, at least it was not the section that had absorbed the smash into 

the ground. 

 

Nolan nodded. 

 

"That's a nuclear reactor," Sam went on. "Uncle Sam doesn't have 

anything in the air with that kind of power. I think we're testing a few 

engines, but nothing flying yet." 

 

"Then it is Russian?" 

 

"That's my guess. No other country would build it. Oh, Great Britain 

could, but if it was one of theirs, they would have plastered the red 

and blue targets on it. Offhand, it looks to me like a glorified version 

of the old U-2 thing, only on their side." 

 

Brice didn't answer. He stared at the wreckage as though it were some 

sort of demon, while a million thoughts burst in his brain. Nick Danson 

was in this? He flew it? Where did he get it? How did he get it? Was it 

Russian? Was Nick a Russian spy? 

 

He tried to cover the amazement on his face by lighting a cigarette. 

"How come it didn't develop into a pint sized Hiroshima, if it has 

atomic power in it?" 

 

Morgan grinned at him, as though he was a kid. "I said it was powered by 

atomic energy, not atomic bombs. There's a kind of difference in..." 

 

"Hey, Sam! C'mere!" 

 

Both of the men turned to look across the twisted mass of wreckage to 

where Cartwell and Dickson were standing. The blond Fed was holding up a 

piece of the wreckage and his face glowed with excitement that he didn't 

try to cover. 

 

"C'mon, Nolan," Sam grinned. "Let's go see what my buddy dug up ... I'll 

bet its a Russian manufacturer's trade mark." 

 

They skirted the wreck and trotted up to where Cartwell stood with the 


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