The two tall men took Jerry and Karen by the arm and guided them through the lobby, then through the swing doors to where a big airport bus waited. There were a lot of people already inside.
As they came out on the sidewalk Jerry saw people run and cars swerve as a Boeing 707 swung off the runway and, jets screaming, taxied between the airport buildings to cross the highway at an angle and slither across a field.
'You boys certainly have everything working for you.' Jerry threw his cigar in the gutter.
'On the bus,' said Taylor.
Jerry and Karen climbed aboard. The bus was decorated in chrome and light blue. All the seats were full of nervous people, mostly middle-aged and middle-class. That was something, thought Jerry.
One well-set-up man in a grey topcoat and hat held an expensive briefcase against his chest. He wore brown leather gloves. 'I'm Feldman,' he said. Teldman. I'm Feldman.'
'That's it,' Dunlop told the driver. 'You can close the doors.'
Feldman dashed forward as the doors began to shut. Taylor hit him in the face. Feldman staggered back, his nose bleeding.
The bus moved out with Jerry and Karen clinging to the slippery central pole. From the hotel came the sound of Thompson sub-machine guns.
The bus reached an intersection and turned inland, away from New York.
Soon they were on Interstate 80.
Jerry felt a tugging at his jacket and he looked down into the heavily made-up face of an old woman with a blue rinse who sat in the nearest seat. 'Young man,' she whispered, 'is this the Ithaca bus?'
'You'd better ask the driver, ma'am,' Jerry told her. 'I'm not sure we're going that far.'
Extent Estimated
The Lance battlefield missile can go anywhere the Army needs to go.
It's rugged, it's accurate. It's easy to operate.
And... it's mobile.
It can be moved into action by helicopter, air-dropped by parachute or carried by ground vehicles over rough terrain under all weather conditions.
The Lance light-weight launcher can be towed by some of the smallest vehicles in the inventory, down to the V4-ton size.
The basic launcher frame and missile frame and missile fit into a full-tracked carrier for land or water surface mobility.
And, it only takes a six-man crew to operate each Lance system.
It is propelled by a storable, pre-packaged liquid propulsion system — the first Army missile so powered.
Lance is almost as portable as its ancient namesake, the basic weapon of the warrior since time began.
I
Mail-order bride from Pennsylvania
Somewhere in Pennsylvania, in thickly wooded hills overlooking the Delaware, the bus stopped by a tall barbed wire fence bearing a wooden notice board that said KEEP OUT — GOVT PROTECTED EXPERIMENTAL NATURE RESERVE.
'Okay, everybody.' The driver took a Swiss M11 Carbine from under his seat. 'Here's where you spend your vacation.'
Taylor and Dunlop glanced at him disapprovingly. The blue doors hissed open and the passengers piled out into the narrow dirt road that ran beside the wire.
Jerry's spirits were rising. As he left the bus, he tipped the driver a dollar.
This way,' said Dunlop.
Struggling with their heavy suitcases, the passengers followed Taylor and Dunlop until they reached a decorative wrought-iron gate in front of, a small Bavarian-style lodge from which three armed militiamen, in the black uniforms, the mirror sunglasses and the motor-cycle helmets, emerged.
A fourth militiaman poked his head out of the whimsically carved doorway. 'Wait there. I'll call the camp.'
Jerry gripped two curling bits of black metal and peered through the gate, breathing in the gentle scent of pines. A wide track led between the trees on the other side of the wire and disappeared over a rise. Beyond the rise a diesel engine whined and a big Ford articulated freight truck came bumping into sight and, sounding the twin golden horns on its roof, swung round in the clearing near the lodge. The driver jumped down from his cab and ran to open the sliding doors of the truck.
One of the militiamen unlocked the wrought-iron gate. 'Okay. Come on through.'
The passengers trudged up to the freight wagon and got awkwardly aboard.
Jerry helped the old lady clamber in.
'It stinks of meat.' She leaned on his shoulder. 'Of animals. What the hell is the company doing to us?'
'It's only a short ride, ma'am. ' Jerry assisted Karen, relishing. the texture of the rough tweed on his palm. 'We'll soon be there.'
As the doors of the car slid shut and the engine started up, Jerry crouched in a corner in the semi-darkness and they bumped through the woods. Five minutes later the truck braked and the outside air rang with cheerful shouts until it moved on a few yards, stopped again, and cut off its engine.
They blinked as the doors slid open to reveal a surly sergeant who waved them out with his rifle.
Mr Feldman had recovered slightly. He stood in the yard dusting himself down as his fellow-passengers disembarked and looked incuriously round at the long wooden huts and the triple fence of barbed wire that had armed observation towers every thirty feet. 'Who's in charge here?' demanded Mr Feldman. 'I have some questions to ask.'
'You want the Camp Governor,' the surly sergeant told him. 'He'll be talking to you in a few minutes.'
Jerry began to whistle. Karen looked at him with a mixture of contempt, suspicion and panic.
There was a chance of a break, after all.
2
How soon legal polygamy?
The new arrivals stood in a long line facing the main hut and there was only the sound of the pine cones cracking in the heat until the door marked CAMP GOVERNOR creaked open and a tall, elegant man came out and saluted them.
The Camp Governor wore a uniform cut from fine, black needlecord and his cap was at just the right angle above his mirror sunglasses which were as black and as bright as his highly polished jackboots.
'Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I am Captain Brunner, your governor. It is my duty and pleasure to ensure that you are properly looked after during your stay here. As you are no doubt aware, under the present emergency conditions laid down by our president, Mr Boyle, an in-depth and far-thinking piece of social experimentation is taking place and you are privileged to be part of the experiment which touches, to a degree, on the problems of overpopulation in this nation. You will, of course, be well treated and all your basic needs will be catered to. Western...' He reached languidly for the clipboard which the sergeant handed him. 'We can assure you, however, that your internment will be as short as possible. We aim for a quick release.' He turned his attention to the clipboard. 'Now, could all professional men and wives of professional men over forty please raise their hands?'
Only Jerry and Karen von Krupp did not raise their hands. 'Excellent,' said Captain Brunner. 'You are all — or almost all -' he glanced disapprovingly at Jerry and Karen — 'entitled to priority service. Are there any questions I can answer for you?'
Mr Feldman raised his hand. 'My name is Feldman. Can I call my wife and tell her where I am?'
'Even better, Mr Feldman — we are tracing your wife and she should be joining you soon. Yes, ma'am.'
'My name's Mrs Meriel McCarthy.'
'Yes?'
'I want to know what I am doing here.'
'Your maiden name?'