"I can and I am."

"Then you leave me with no recourse. Mr. Black, please—?"

The large man got out of his chair easily and came forward, reaching in his inside pocket. "You are Peter Mansfield?"

"I—yes—?"

"Peter Mansfield, accept this court notification of judgment," said the man called Black.

Peter, blankly, put out a hand and the process landed in the palm. Black let go of it and Peter had it.

"Read it," urged Forsyth.

Peter opened it and skimmed down the first page. "For the benefit of my thick head, maybe you'd better explain this in layman's terms."

"It merely states that due to your inability to comply with the terms of your contract—namely to produce a device that will cause material objects to be transmitted without handling, defined as a matter transmitter, and more carefully outlined in the contract itself—you are therefore declared in forfeit and the indemnity clause is being enforced."

"Indemnity clause?"

"Yes, if I must repeat myself. It calls for the return, upon demand, of all monies accountable, subject to a formal audit later."

Peter snorted. "Look," he said crossly, "if I'd had that couple of cold million in the first place I'd not have bothered Higgins. So now you expect me to write you a check for two million, three hundred and some thousand? Or," he sneered bitterly, "would you prefer it in cash? One dollar bills be all right, Mr. Forsyth? Or perhaps you prefer it in tens?"

"Please, let's not be facetious. This is a serious matter."

"So? And what am I expected to do about it?" stormed Peter.

"You'll just have to comply with the orders of the court."

Peter eyed the large process server. "Do you know any law?" he asked plaintively.

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