The Brazen Locked Room
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Isaac Asimov The Brazen Locked Room COME, COME," said Shapur quite politely, considering that he was a demon. "You are wasting my time. And your own, too, I might add, since you have only half an hour left." And his tail twitched. "It's not dematerialization?" asked Isidore Wellby thoughtfully. "I have already said it is not," said Shapur. For the hundredth time, Wellby looked at the unbroken bronze that surrounded him on all sides. The demon had taken unholy pleasure (what other kind indeed?) in pointing out that the floor, ceiling and four walls were featureless, two – foot – thick slabs of bronze, welded seamlessly together. It was the ultimate locked room and Wellby had but another half hour to get out, while the demon watched with an expression of gathering anticipation. It had been ten years previously (to the day, naturally) that Isidore Wellby had signed up.