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“Perhaps,” said Magnus Ridolph, “you are too close to the problem. You must remember that this is not Planet Earth, and conditions—the psychological, the biological, and,” he turned a vastly impassive stare at Rogge, “the essentially logical circumstances—are different from what you have been accustomed to.”

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

Magnus Ridolph often found himself in want for money, for his expenditures were large and he had no regular income. With neither natural diligence nor any liking for routine, he was forced to cope with each ebb of his credit balance as it occurred, a fact which suited him perfectly. In his brain an exact logical mechanism worked side by side with a projective faculty ranging the infinities of time and space, and this natural endowment he used not only to translate fact from and into mathematics, but also to maintain his financial solvency.

In the course of the years he had devised a number of money-making techniques. The first of these was profoundly simple. Surveying the world about him, he would presently observe a lack or an imperfection. A moment's thought would suggest an improvement, and in repairing the universe, Magnus Ridolph usually repaired his credit balance.

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

Magnus Ridolph compressed his lips. His micromac and powerpack had disappeared. Peering under the couch Magnus Ridolph saw a patch of slightly darker fiber in the matting. He straightened his back, just in time to see his pocket screen swinging up through the air into a hole high in the wall. Magnus Ridolph started to run outside and into the adjoining room, then thought better of it. No telling how many natives would be pillaging his room if he left for an instant. He piled everything back into his suitcases, locked them, placed them in the middle of the floor, sat on the couch, lit a cigarette. Fifteen minutes he sat in reflection. A muffled bellow made him look up.

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

“Graft,” said Boek. “Graft, pure and simple. Old-fashioned Earth-style civic corruption. I should have mentioned ” another sour grin for Magnus Ridolph “ but Sclerotto City has a duly elected mayor, and a group of civic officers. There’s a fire department, a postal service, a garbage disposal unit, police force wait till you see ’em!” He chuckled, a noise like a bucket scraping on a stone floor. “That’s actually what brings the tourists the way these creatures go about making a living Earth-style.”

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

For several minutes information played across the screen. Very little seemed significant and he found no notes of his own on the topic. The sardinia pilchardus, according to the Mnemiphot, belonged to the herring family, swam in large shoals and fed on minute pelagic animals. There were further details of scale pattern, breeding habits, natural enemies, discussion of variant species.

Donnels kicked aside the rubbish, stood viewing the gear with evident satisfaction. Magnus Ridolph strained to catch a word of the conversation. Impossible the window was insul-glass. He trotted to the door, inched it open.

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

“Ah,” said Magnus Ridolph, “you think I dealt with you unfairly. And you brought me to Jexjeka to work in your mines.”
“You got it right mister. I’m a hard man to deal with when I’m crowded.”

“Your unpleasant threats are supererogatory.”

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

They put down at the cottage. Magnus Ridolph alighted, walked to the edge of the field, bent over. The plants were thick, luxuriant, amply covered with clusters of purple tubes. Magnus Ridolph straightened, looked sidelong at Blantham, who had come up behind him.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Blantham mildly.

This time the cries were louder, mournful, close at hand, and Magnus Ridolph, peering through the peep-hole in the door, saw the tumble of figures come storming down the hill, black against the sky. He dipped a brush into a pan of liquid nearby, slid the door up a trifle, reached out, swabbed the resilian plate, slid the door shut. Rising, he put his eye to the peep-hole.

Reprinted in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight 2012

Quotes:

“Just wait till the noise of those accidents dies down... They’ll be back like flies. After all, we got a lot of publicity-” “Publicity! Huh! Nine bathers killed by sea-beetles the first day. The gorilla-things dragging those girls into the jungle. Not to mention the flying snakes and the dragons-Lord, the dragons! And you talk about publicity!”

It was a rude awakening for Magnus Ridolph. Eye to eye he stared at the dragon. The dragon opened its maw, darted its head forward, snapped. Magnus Ridolph rolled over, escaped by an inch.

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quotes:

A: There are 97 conventions of battle which may be employed: for instance, Code 48, by which we overcame strong Black Glass Tumble, allows the lance to be grasped only by the left hand and permits no severing of the leg tendons with the dagger. Code 69, however, insists that the tendons must be cut before the kill is made and the lances are used thwart-wise, as bumpers.

The guide continued, “The Eastern Shield warriors can be seen coming over the hill...It seems as if they surmise the Ivory Dune strategy and will attempt to attack the flank...There!” His voice rose animatedly. “By the bronze tree! The scouts have made a brush...Eastern Shield lures the Ivory Dune scouts into ambush...They’re gone. Apparently today’s code is 4, or possibly 36, allowing all weapons to be used freely, without restriction.”

Magnus Ridolph made an easy gesture. “I profess an amateur’s interest in military strategy; I will assume responsibility for that phase of the plan.”

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.

Quote:

THE HUB, a cluster of bubbles in a web of metal, hung in empty space, in that region known to Earthmen as Hither Sagittarius. The owner was Pan Pascoglu, a man short, dark and energetic, almost bald, with restless brown eyes and a thick mustache. A man of ambition, Pascoglu hoped to develop the Hub into a fashionable resort, a glamor-island among the stars - something more than a mere stopover depot and junction point.

Republished in Magnus Ridolph, Spatterlight, 2012.