This story examines the obvious connection between aluminum foil, a Manhattan real estate broker approaching his seventies, and the Cold War. Follow Micheal Morzeny on the last sales call he’ll ever make.
to his knees. "The first wave of paralysis and pain is the shortest. They get worse. More intense." Mr. Hume turned and the relief on his face made it obvious that the first wave had passed. Then came the anger, quite on cue. Here was where Morzeny's training was important. With another victim he might have applied handcuffs during the first wave, but he liked to test himself and he was sure he had Hume read correctly.
"Stop," Morzeny ordered, and Mr. Hume stopped as told, the anger becoming confusion. "I will repeat: it only gets worse. And attacking me will only guarantee that you will never receive the antidote." There was no antidote. This was a lie. But Morzeny had learned in his training that the idea of an antidote could be helpful.
Now Hume's face crumbled in fear, his brain racing back over and over the last few minutes, the discomfort of paralysis, the wracking pain, like every one of his muscles were being ripped apart by claws, and now a strange and suddenly overwhelming thirst. Hume
A wicked little short story for paranoid people. A real estate agent shows houses, and sometimes kills people. He really enjoys real estate, but actually, it's just a sideline.
The real estate agent is the narrator, and a pretty good character.