Jennings nodded. “Exactly.”
“How are you going to blackmail the Company?”
“I’m going to enter the Plant and carry out enough material to prove Rethrick is operating a time scoop.”
Kelly laughed. “Enter the Plant? Let’s see you find the Plant. The SP have been looking for it for years.”
“I’ve already found it.” Jennings leaned back, lighting a cigarette. “I’ve located it with my trinkets. And I have four left, enough to get me inside, I think. And to get me what I want. I’ll be able to carry out enough papers and photographs to hang Rethrick. But I don’t want to hang Rethrick. I only want to bargain. That’s where you come in.”
“I?”
“You can be trusted not to go to the Police. I need someone I can turn the material over to. I don’t dare keep it myself. As soon as I have it I must turn it over to someone else, someone who’ll hide it where I won’t be able to find it.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Jennings said calmly, “any minute the SP may pick me up. I have no love for Rethrick, but I don’t want to scuttle it. That’s why you’ve got to help me. I’m going to turn the information over to you, to hold, while I bargain with Rethrick. Otherwise I’ll have to hold it myself. And if I have it on me—”
He glanced at her. Kelly was staring at the floor, her face tense. Set.
“Well? What do you say? Will you help me, or shall I take the chance the SP won’t pick me up with the material? Data enough to destroy Rethrick. Well? Which will it be? Do you want to see Rethrick destroyed? What’s your answer?”
The two of them crouched, looking across the fields at the hill beyond. The hill rose up, naked and brown, burned clean of vegetation. Nothing grew on its sides. Halfway up a long steel fence twisted, topped with charged barbed wire. On the other side a guard walked slowly, a tiny figure patrolling with a rifle and helmet.
At the top of the hill lay an enormous concrete block, a towering structure without windows or doors. Mounted guns caught the early morning sunlight, glinting in a row along the roof of the building.
“So that’s the Plant,” Kelly said softly.
“That’s it. It would take an army to get up there, up that hill and over the fence. Unless they were allowed in.” Jennings got to his feet, helping Kelly up. They walked back along the path, through the trees, to where Kelly had parked the cruiser.
“Do you really think your green cloth band will get you in?” Kelly said, sliding behind the wheel.
“According to the people in the town, a truckload of laborers will be brought in to the Plant sometime this morning. The truck is unloaded at the entrance and the men examined. If everything’s in order they’re let inside the grounds, past the fence. For construction work, manual labor. At the end of the day they’re let out again and driven back to town.”
“Will that get you close enough?”
“I’ll be on the other side of the fence, at least.”
“How will you get to the time scoop? That must be inside the building, some place.”
Jennings brought out a small code key. “This will get me in. I hope. I assume it will.”
Kelly took the key, examining it. “So that’s one of your trinkets. We should have taken a better look inside your little cloth bag.”
“We?”
“The Company. I saw several little bags of trinkets pass out, through my hands. Rethrick never said anything.”
“Probably the Company assumed no one would ever want to get back inside again.” Jennings took the code key from her. “Now, do you know what you’re supposed to do?”
“I’m supposed to stay here with the cruiser until you get back. You’re to give me the material. Then I’m to carry it back to New York and wait for you to contact me.”
“That’s right.” Jennings studied the distant road, leading through the trees to the Plant gate. “I better get down there. The truck may be along any time.”
“What if they decide to count the number of workers?”
“I’ll have to take the chance. But I’m not worried. I’m sure he foresaw everything.”
Kelly smiled. “You and your friend, your helpful friend. I hope he left you enough things to get you out again, after you have the photographs.”
“Do you?”
“Why not?” Kelly said easily. “I always liked you. You know that. You knew when you came to me.”
Jennings stepped out of the cruiser. He had on overalls and workshoes, and a gray sweatshirt. “I’ll see you later. If everything goes all right. I think it will.” He patted his pocket. “With my charms here, my good-luck charms.”
He went off through the trees, walking swiftly.
The trees led to the very edge of the road. He stayed with them, not coming out into the open. The Plant guards were certainly scanning the hillside. They had burned it clean, so that anyone trying to creep up to the fence would be spotted at once. And he had seen infrared searchlights.
Jennings crouched low, resting against his heels, watching the road. A few yards up the road was a roadblock, just ahead of the gate. He examined his watch. Ten thirty. He might have a wait, a long wait. He tried to relax.
It was after eleven when the great truck came down the road, rumbling and wheezing.
Jennings came to life. He took out the strip of green cloth and fastened it around his arm. The truck came closer. He could see its load now. The back was full of workmen, men in jeans and workshirts, bounced and jolted as the truck moved along. Sure enough, each had an arm band like his own, a swathe of green around his upper arm. So far so good.
The truck came slowly to a halt, stopping at the roadblock. The men got down slowly onto the road, sending up a cloud of dust into the hot midday sun. They slapped the dust from their jeans, some of them lighting cigarettes. Two guards came leisurely from behind the roadblock. Jennings tensed. In a moment it would be time. The guards moved among the men, examining them, their arm bands, their faces, looking at the identification tabs of a few.
The roadblock slid back. The gate opened. The guards returned to their positions.
Jennings slid forward, slithering through the brush, toward the road. The men were stamping out their cigarettes, climbing back up into the truck. The truck was gunning its motor, the driver releasing the brakes. Jennings dropped onto the road, behind the truck. A rattle of leaves and dirt showered after him. Where he had landed, the view of the guards was cut off by the truck. Jennings held his breath. He ran toward the back of the truck.
The men stared at him curiously as he pulled himself up among them, his chest rising and falling. Their faces were weathered, gray and lined. Men of the soil. Jennings took his place between two burly farmers as the truck started up. They did not seem to notice him. He had rubbed dirt into his skin, and let his beard grow for a day. A quick glance he didn’t look much different from the others. But if anyone made a count—
The truck passed through the gate, into the grounds. The gate slid shut behind. Now they were going up, up the steep side of the hill, the truck rattling and swaying from side to side. The vast concrete structure loomed nearer. Were they going to enter it? Jennings watched, fascinated. A thin high door was sliding back, revealing a dark interior. A row of artificial lights gleamed.
The truck stopped. The workmen began to get down again. Some mechanics came around them.
“What’s this crew for?” one of them asked.
“Digging. Inside.” Another jerked a thumb. “They’re digging again. Send them inside.”
Jennings’s heart thudded. He was going inside! He felt at his neck. There, inside the gray sweater, a flatplate camera hung like a bib around his neck. He could scarcely feel it, even knowing it was there. Maybe this would be less difficult than he had thought.
The workmen pushed through the door on foot, Jennings with them. They were in an immense workroom, long benches with half-completed machinery, booms and cranes, and the constant roar of work. The door closed after them, cutting them off from outside. He was in the Plant. But where was the time scoop, and the mirror?