No Shield From The Dead
Gordon R. Dickson
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NO SHIELD FROM THE DEAD
NO SHIELD FROM THE DEAD
  No conceivable force could penetrate Terri's shield. Yet he was defenseless. t was a nice little party, but a bit obvious. Terri Mac saw through it before he had taken half a dozen steps into the apartment. A light flush staining his high cheek-bones. "This is ridiculous," he said. The light chatter ceased. Cocktail glasses were set down on various handy tables and ledges; and all faces in the room turned toward a man in his late fifties who sat propped up invalid-wise on pillows in a chair in
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