Monk had three questions he lived by: Where can I find it? How much will it cost? When can you deliver? But now they said that what he needed wasn't for sale. "Want to bet?" He snorted. ystole ... diastole ... the Cardiophone listened, hummed, and recorded; tracing a path of perilous peaks and precipices on the white paper. "Relax!" Dr. Rostov pleaded. "Please relax, Mr. Monk!" The eyes of Fletcher Monk replied. Rostov knew their language well enough to read the glaring messages they transmitt