loped

me anywhere.

me anywhere. How the hell did you identify yourself to a piece of plastic the size of a book of matches? Fingerprints? A National Geographic Society membership card?
I pulled out my CBI card, held it to the plastic, then listened again:
" . . . thirty-one; thirty . . ." There was a pause. "In the absence of proper identification within thirty seconds, this plaque will detonate. Unauthorized personnel are warned to withdraw to fifty yards . . . Twenty seconds and counting. Nineteen; eighteen . . ."
I had my arm back, ready to throw. I checked the motion. The blast would attract everything within a mile, from flying saucer watchers to red-eyed beast-shapes that loped on hands