Ryeland laughed grimly, with almost the last of his breath. "That's what I'll find out," he panted, hoarsely . . . and passed out. He was not conscious of the moment when he blacked out; he only knew that he was going.
When he awoke, it was with sheer wonder that he was alive.
Donna Creery's perfect face bent over him, making the wonder all the greater. "I made it," he whispered incredulously.
The girl said seriously, "Yes, so far. But don't crowd your luck, Ryeland. We're still in trouble."
He stirred to get up—and floated free, until the girl's restraining hand pushed him back against the metal acceleration couch. They were in a spaceship, apparently in free-fall. He looked around. Automatically he said, "I've got to find a—" He stopped. He had been about to ask where the teletype was, so that he could check in with the Machine. But that was no longer necessary, of course.
Donna Creery gestured at the cabin of the spaceship. "You like it, Steven? It's yours."
He was startled. "Mine?"
"Oh, yes. Do you remember the ship that General Fleemer equipped for you, with remote controls from Point Triangle Gray? This is it—with some changes. I've removed the remote controls. But it was a perfectly §ood interplanetary rocket, right in orbit where Chiquita could bring you to it. Only—" She looked worried. "Only I'm surprised that Father isn't here."
Ryeland shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't understand. Why does the Planner want me here?"
She said, "He ought to tell you himself, but perhaps I can. Did you know, Steven, that in the past two months there have been over a hundred major seismic shocks? And they always seem to strike centers of population. My father thinks—well, it doesn't sound right when I say it. He thinks the Machine is doing it."
"The Machine!"
"I know, Steven. But Father is worried. He has discovered that General Fleemer and others have been tampering with the Machine! Father is a good man, Steven, and he says he does not understand this. But I do. Fleemer wants to control the Machine—because he wants to control the Plan of Man—and destroying the project for discovery of a jetless drive is only one step in his plan. All those seismic shocks and accidents with subtrain tubes and fusion reactors and the new ion drives—they're all part of it, too. Deliberate sabotage!
"And, oh, Steven! How well it has worked! The Machine is only transistors and relays, you know; it knows nothing but what is fed into it. Fleemer has managed to corrupt its input circuits, and now the Machine is almost openly hostile to Father, and the whole crux of the matter right now is the jetless drive. The Machine has come to think that such a drive will destroy the Plan of Man. It has overruled Father's orders on it—oh, a thousand times—so that Father has to resort to subterfuge and tricks. He let me rescue you, as one of his moves. But I'm afraid it's too late."
She moved away, peering worriedly at the viewports on the spaceship's panel. "They don't seem to be following. Not yet, anyhow."
Ryeland noticed he was shivering. It was not cold in the ship, but he had only the ill-fitting coveralls to wear and they were soaked through. "Who?" he demanded.
"The Plan police," she said, surprised. "General Fleemer will be after Chiquita, even if they don't suspect you are with me. Though we can't count on that, of course; it wouldn't be unreasonable for the Machine to inform them that I had rescued you from Heaven. He was going to kill Chiquita, you see, so I stole her." She frowned as Ryeland shook his head.
"Why shouldn't I steal her?" the girl flared. "She was mine! And the only safe place for Chiquita is out in space—out on the Reefs, if I can get her there. And, of course, that's the only safe place for you."
Ryeland said angrily, "You're asking me to run away from the Machine! You want me to be an outlaw!"
"Oh, Steven, what do you think you are? Have you forgotten Heaven already? I saved your life . . . You're lucky you got here," she said seriously, stroking the spaceling. "I wasn't at all sure Chiquita could make the jump from atmosphere."
"Neither was I."
She smiled, and for a moment she was the impish, confident girl who had interviewed him in her bath. But quickly her face clouded again. "I wish Father would come," she said. "Chiquita can't five forever without getting back to the Reefs to replenish her fusorians. And I—well, I sent my own rocket back to Earth and crashed it where they'll find it. Perhaps they'll think we were both killed. But," she said calmly, "they would have to be stupid to be deceived very long, and the Machine is never stupid. It's—I don't know—unbalanced, now. But it is thorough. Father and I discussed it thoroughly; he knows the Machine well. He thinks we have about twelve hours."
"Then what?"
"Why, then the Machine will trigger your collar."
Involuntarily Ryeland's fingers came up to touch the dull metal that encircled his neck.
The girl was right; that was what the Machine would do. Twelve hours? He didn't know; but probably the Planner did. All right. Then in twelve hours they had to be out of range.
"Can we get away from the Machine's radar beam in twelve hours?" he demanded.
"I don't know, Steven. I think so. The Machine may not realize that you are in space."
The girl restlessly prowled toward the viewports. "But Father isn't here. I don't know how long we can afford to wait. Once we get out to the Reefs, of course, there's nothing to worry about. You won't have your collar any more."
He looked startled. She smiled. "Don't you remember, Steven? Ron Donderevo. The man who got his iron collar off; he's out there. I'm sure he can do the same with yours."
Restlessly Ryeland touched his collar. "Please," he begged. "Tell me what you know about Donderevo" . . . about, he thought silently, the man this ju.nk body of mine was built to replace.
"You know everything there is to tell. Or almost," she said. "He was once a friend of my father—in spite of all their differences over the future of the Plan of Man. It was Donderevo who first told my father something about the spacelings and the Reefs, and convinced him that the Machine should try to develop a jetless drive.
"Unfortunately, when the Plan took over his people, Donderevo engaged in disloyal activities. For that reason he was classified as a Risk and finally sent to the stockpile. The fact that Father communicated with him while he was in the stockpile, and finally connived at his escape, is one of the charges that Fleemer is using now in his effort to discredit Father with the Machine.
"I think Donderevo might be able to help Father now, in this fight with Fleemer for control of the Machine and the future of the Plan. At least he could tell the Machine more about the Reefs than it got from Lescure's reports—after Fleemer had finished doctoring them. And that's where we must go, Steve—to find Donderevo, out to the Reefs of Space!"
Ryeland was suddenly afraid to tell Donna how desperately he wanted to see Ron Donderevo. Donderevo might help him remove the iron collar. Donderevo might help him clear up the fog of oblivion and contradiction in his past. But it was also possible that Donderevo would tell him that the collar could not be removed—not without the elaborate surgical facilities available only at the stockpile. It was even possible that Donderevo would affirm what Angela had told him—that he was a junk man, a meat machine patched together from a few bits of waste tissue, not worth saving from the collar.
If that were true, he thought, he couldn't stand for Donna Creery ever to find it out. The Planner's daughter—and a few pounds of salvaged human garbage. The gulf between them would be too wide for any warm emotion to cross.