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He
did
it
perfectly
.
He
got
the
information
he
sought
.
And
more
than
he
sought
.
Much
more
.
Confidence
is
rewarded
,
apparently
.
There
was
a
homewhen
proverb
that
went
:
"
Grip
the
nettle
firmly
and
it
will
become
a
stick
with
which
to
beat
your
enemy
.
"
In
short
,
Noys
had
no
analogue
in
the
new
Reality
.
No
analogue
at
all
.
She
could
take
her
position
in
the
new
society
in
the
most
inconspicuous
and
convenient
manner
possible
,
or
she
could
stay
in
Eternity
.
There
could
be
no
reason
to
deny
him
liaison
except
for
the
highly
theoretical
fact
that
he
had
broken
the
law
-
and
he
knew
very
well
how
to
counter
that
argument
.
So
he
went
racing
upwhen
to
tell
Noys
the
great
news
,
to
bathe
in
undreamed
-
of
success
after
a
few
days
horrible
with
apparent
failure
.
And
at
this
moment
the
kettle
came
to
a
halt
.
It
did
not
slow
;
it
simply
halted
.
If
the
motion
had
been
one
along
any
of
the
three
dimensions
of
space
,
a
halt
that
sudden
would
have
smashed
the
kettle
,
brought
its
metal
to
a
dull
red
heat
,
turned
Harlan
into
a
thing
of
broken
bone
and
wet
,
crushed
flesh
.
As
it
was
,
it
merely
doubled
him
with
nausea
and
cracked
him
with
inner
pain
.
When
he
could
see
,
he
fumbled
to
the
temporometer
and
stared
at
it
with
fuzzy
vision
.
It
read
100
,
000
.
