He was after much more than anyone who had come before. He was the first to understand, to plan. The seven trinkets were a bridge to something beyond anything that --
At the end of the block an SP cruiser pulled up to the curb. Its doors slid open.
Jennings stopped, his heart constricting. The night patrol, roaming through the city. It was after eleven, after curfew. He looked quickly around. Everything was dark. The stores and houses were shut up tight, locked for the night. Silent apartment houses, buildings. Even the bars were dark.
He looked back the way he had come. Behind him, a second SP cruiser had stopped. Two SP officers had stepped out onto the curb. They had seen him. They were coming toward him. He stood frozen, looking up and down the street.
Across from him was the entrance of a swank hotel, its neon sign glimmering. He began to walk toward it, his heels echoing against the pavement.
"Stop!" one of the SP men called. "Come back here. What are you doing out? What's your --"
Jennings went up the stairs, into the hotel. He crossed the lobby. The clerk was staring at him. No one else was around. The lobby was deserted. His heart sank. He didn't have a chance. He began to run aimlessly, past the desk, along a carpeted hall. Maybe it led out some back way. Behind him, the SP men had already entered the lobby.
Jennings turned a corner. Two men stepped out, blocking his way.
"Where are you going?"
He stopped, wary. "Let me by." He reached into his coat for the Boris gun. At once the men moved.
"Get him."
His arms were pinned to his sides. Professional hoods. Past them he could see light. Light and sound. Some kind of activity. People.
"All right," one of the hoods said. They dragged him back along the corridor, toward the lobby. Jennings struggled futilely. He had entered a blind alley. Hoods, a joint. The city was dotted with them, hidden in the darkness. The swank hotel a front. They would toss him out, into the hands of the SP.
Some people came along the halls, a man and a woman. Older people. Well dressed. They gazed curiously at Jennings, suspended between the two men.
Suddenly Jennings understood. A wave of relief hit him, blinding him. "Wait," he said thickly. "My pocket."
"Come on."
"Wait. Look. My right pocket. Look for yourselves."
He relaxed, waiting. The hood on his right reached, dipping cautiously into the pocket. Jennings smiled. It was over. He had seen even this. There was no possibility of failure. This solved one problem: where to stay until it was time to meet Rethrick. He could stay here.
The hood brought out the half poker chip, examining the serrated edges. "Just a second." From his own coat he took a matching chip, fitting on a gold chain. He touched the edges together.
"All right?" Jennings said.
"Sure." They let him go. He brushed off his coat automatically. "Sure, mister. Sorry. Say, you should have --"
"Take me in the back," Jennings said, wiping his face. "Some people are looking for me. I don't particularly want them to find me."
"Sure." They led him back, into the gambling rooms. The half chip had turned what might have been a disaster into an asset. A gambling and girl joint. One of the few institutions the Police left alone. He was safe. No question of that. Only one thing remained. The struggle with Rethrick!
Rethrick's face was hard. He gazed at Jennings, swallowing rapidly.
"No," he said. "I didn't know it was you. We thought it was the SP."
There was silence. Kelly sat at the chair by her desk, her legs crossed, a cigarette between her fingers. Jennings leaned against the door, his arms folded.
"Why didn't you use the mirror?" he said.
Rethrick's face flickered. "The mirror? You did a good job, my friend. We tried to use the mirror."
"Tried?"
"Before you finished your term with us you changed a few leads inside the mirror. When we tried to operate it nothing happened. I left the plant half an hour ago. They were still working on it."
"I did that before I finished my two years?"
"Apparently you had worked out your plans in detail. You know that with the mirror we would have no trouble tracking you down. You're a good mechanic, Jennings. The best we ever had. We'd like to have you back, sometime. Working for us again. There's not one of us that can operate the mirror the way you could. And right now, we can't use it at all."
Jennings smiled. "I had no idea he did anything like that. I underestimated him. His protection was even --"
"Who are you talking about?"
"Myself. During the two years. I use the objective. It's easier."
"Well, Jennings. So the two of you worked out an elaborate plan to steal our schematics. Why? What's the purpose? You haven't turned them over to the Police."
"No."
"Then I can assume it's blackmail."
"That's right."
"What for? What do you want?" Rethrick seemed to have aged. He slumped, his eyes small and glassy, rubbing his chin nervously. "You went to a lot of trouble to get us into this position. I'm curious why. While you were working for us you laid the groundwork. Now you've completed it, in spite of our precautions."
"Precautions?"
"Erasing your mind. Concealing the Plant."
"Tell him," Kelly said. "Tell him why you did it."
Jennings took a deep breath. "Rethrick, I did it to get back in. Back to the Company. That's the only reason. No other."
Rethrick stared at him. "To get back into the Company? You can come back in. I told you that." His voice was thin and sharp, edged with strain. "What's the matter with you? You can come back in. For as long as you want to stay."
"As a mechanic."
"Yes. As a mechanic. We employ many --"
"I don't want to come back as a mechanic. I'm not interested in working for you. Listen, Rethrick. The SP picked me up as soon as I left this Office. If it hadn't been for him I'd be dead."
"They picked you up?"
"They wanted to know what Rethrick Construction does. They wanted me to tell them."
Rethrick nodded. "That's bad. We didn't know that."
"No, Rethrick. I'm not coming in as an employee you can toss out any time it pleases you. I'm coming in with you, not for you."
"With me?" Rethrick stared at him. Slowly a film settled over his face, an ugly hard film. "I don't understand what you mean."
"You and I are going to run Rethrick Construction together. That'll be the way, from now on. And no one will be burning my memory out, for their own safety."
"That's what you want?"
"Yes."
"And if we don't cut you in?"
"Then the schematics and films go to the SP. It's as simple as that. But I don't want to. I don't want to destroy the Company. I want to get into the Company! I want to be safe. You don't know what it's like, being out there, with no place to go. An individual has no place to turn to, anymore. No one to help him. He's caught between two ruthless forces, a pawn between political and economic powers. And I'm tired of being a pawn."
For a long time Rethrick said nothing. He stared down at the floor, his face dull and blank. At last he looked up. "I know it's that way. That's something I've known for a long time. Longer than you have. I'm a lot older than you. I've seen it come, grow that way, year after year. That's why Rethrick Construction exists. Someday, it'll be all different. Someday, when we have the scoop and the mirror finished. When the weapons are finished."
Jennings said nothing.
"I know very well how it is! I'm an old man. I've been working a long time. When they told me someone had got out of the Plant with schematics, I thought the end had come. We already knew you had damaged the mirror. We knew there was a connection, but we had parts figured wrong.