Ariel gasped and Derec realized that they would soon be below them, on the slower strips, between them and the locals.
“Back up!” Derec said tensely, and in a moment they were squeezing between platforms. Their persecutors caught the change of direction instantly and were in full cry.
He hurried Ariel rapidly down the strips on the inside, their enemies gaining rapidly with a lifetime’s expertise. At the motionless median between expressways, he looked around wildly. There was no possibility of their climbing the reverse ways and staying ahead.
“In here!” said Ariel, and they dived into a kiosk and ran down the strip, not waiting for it to carry them. They ran under the ways, hearing voices crying “Spacer! Spacer!” behind them.
At the other end, they had a choice of a moving strip that would take them up beside the expressway, or a maze of corridors at this leveclass="underline" poorly lit, poorly cleaned, sparsely populated, and thick with nameless organic odors.
There was quite a mob behind them, by the sound. Panting, they ran into the first corridor, took the first branching, then the next. They paused, listening. A derelict lay on a low platform beside a wide freight door, scruffy and unshaven. ST. LOUIS YEAST, PLANT 17, said the door.
Derec had a sudden flashing memory of having viewed a novel set on Earth in the medieval days, when a derelict like this turned out to be a crusty, cheerful, picaresque, heart-of-gold character who saved the day for the hero and became his closest buddy.
This one had more the attitude of a rat. Rousing himself with surprising energy, he listened, rubbed his graying whiskers, and, growling something about “stirring up the damn yeast farmers,” he dived into a small door beside the freight door, and slammed it. They heard it lock.
Voices and footfalls approached. They looked around. There were no tiny crannies to escape into, nothing but corridors wide enough for trucks to be driven through. Eventually they’d be run down wherever they went, however fast they ran. And their enemies no longer merely wanted to talk to Derec and Ariel. They had something much more direct in mind.
Chapter 5. Escape?
Ariel heard them coming. Heart pounding, she looked around again. No place to run to, no place to hide. After a blank moment Derec took the Key to Perihelion out of his pocket (Ariel gasped), put it in her palm, squeezed the four corners in succession, and closed both their hands around it fiercely. Ariel pushed the button as they held their breath.
The gray nothingness of Perihelion was around them, forever and ever to the limits of vision.
Derec let his breath out. “Frost! I thought they had us!”
“So did I!”
They were in no hurry to return to Earth, yet there was surely no more boring place in hyperspace or normal space, whichever it was, than Perihelion. They looked at each other, and Ariel shrugged, as Derec wiped his brow.
“Oh, no!”
They had moved at the same time, and, releasing each other, had drifted apart. With great presence of mind, Derec lunged for her. Ariel was frozen in shock; had she reached for him at the same time, she could have caught his hand. Too late.
They looked at each other tragically. Inexorably, they drifted further apart.
Ariel felt she had to make up for it. “I’ll throw you the Key!” she cried. “You go back to Earth-forget about me!”
“Nonsense! If you do, I’ll throw it back-”
At that moment his face went blank and he contorted himself into a knot; reaching for his soft shoes, he tore them off. Writhing with a practiced free-fall motion, he turned his back to her and hurled the first shoe away. With the reaction to that throw, he ceased to recede. Now he was rotating. He allowed himself to rotate twice, studying her, then writhed again, and threw the other shoe.
After a prolonged wait they seized each other, Ariel gasping in relief. To her surprise, she felt him shaking.
“Derec, you were marvelous! I thought we were lost!”
Derec grinned shakily. “What you said about throwing the Key gave me the idea.”
“Frost, I’m glad something did.” Ariel took the Key and pressed the corners again, and, with both gripping it, pushed the button.
R. David was against the wall in his usual place.
“Frost,” Ariel said, feeling ready to collapse. She sat down, knees shaking, and so did Derec.
“What did they mean, ‘your little social study of conditions on Earth’-the yeast farmers?” Derec asked.
Ariel had no idea. They put the question to R. David, careful not to let him know that they had been in serious danger.
He said, “I have no access to news feed, but I believe that Dr. Avery made some public announcement about studying social conditions on Earth when he first contacted Earthly authorities to transfer rare metals for money. He promised not to send in humaniform robots, and of course it did not occur to the authorities that he would enter Earthly society himself. “
“Then how did he expect to make any study of Earth society?” Ariel asked, skeptical.
“He purchased many Earthly studies of the subject, and also me. While ostensibly studying these sources, he quietly developed the medical prophylaxis with which I treated you, and infiltrated Earth society in his own person, learning what kinds of identification and ration media he would need to have to pretend to be an Earthman. Some of those he bought openly as samples for his study. In short, over a period of an Earthly year he was occasionally in the news as he came and went from Earth. And from this study he was allegedly making, I suppose that rumors may have gone abroad that teams of Spacers are studying Earthly sociology on the spot. That is, of course, very unlikely.”
“Very,” said Derec, with a grimace. “Spacers are just not interested in the subject, and if they were, they wouldn’t take the health risk.”
Ariel could not care less about Earth’s rumors. “The important thing is to get back into space,” she said.
“You’re right,” Derec said. “I’m more than tired of concrete caves and the troglodytes that live in them.” She smiled fleetingly at the term. “So the third thing is to find out how to get to the spaceport. The first being to have those directions to the nearest Personal repeated, and the second, to find a shoe store.”
Ariel grimaced, but said, “You’re right.”
When put to the question, R. David said, “The spaceport is located near New York, Miss Avery.”
They looked at each other blankly. Of course they knew that there were eight hundred Cities on Earth. They had been thinking in terms of one giant City covering all Earth, the natural extension of their Earthly experience.
“What City is this, then?” Ariel asked.
“The City of Saint Louis,” said R. David. “It is on the same continent as New York, so travel is facilitated. One may take the train, and for a third of the distance the way is enclosed and roofed over. Ittakes less than twelve hours-half an Earthly rotation, Mr. Avery.” He had detected the question on Derec’s face.
Ariel had no idea what a “train” might be, and wasn’t happy about its being enclosed-she visualized something like the expressway. She looked at Derec, who looked equally unhappy.
“Do we have the money-the rating or whatever-to go on the train?” Derec asked dubiously.
R. David said, “Your travel vouchers have not been touched, but I believe there is an inadequate amount. As Fours, you do not rate much, nor do many Earth people often travel between Cities.”
“Even though we are Transients?”
“You are Transients in this sector, but not necessarily in this City.”
“We’d better visit the Personal first,” said Ariel tiredly. “We’ll think it over when we get back.”
R. David repeated his directions to the Personals, which turned out to be in opposite directions. Rather reluctantly, they split up, and Derec left with a backward glance. Ariel walked slowly toward the women’s Personal, hoping Derec’s stockinged feet would not be too noticeable.
Since this was the Personal assigned to her, Ariel found a shower cubby with the same number as the one on her tag, and took a shower. Again, no towels; she saw a woman carrying a little cloth satchel into a similar cubby and presumed it contained a towel, combs, and so on. She wouldn’t need one, as short a time as they expected to be on Earth. She had, of course, brought a comb, though she should see about getting a brush. Fortunately, her hair wasn’t long.