Slowly he made his way into the crummy quarter where his room was located, determined to pick up his belongings and clear out as quickly as possible. The car nosed its way into his street. As always, a bunch of idlers loafed upon the corner and stared at him as he went by. There was something not quite right about them. Their ill-kept clothes and careless postures gave them the superficial appearance of lazy bums but they were a little too well-fed, their gaze a little too haughty.
With hairs itching on the back of his neck and a peculiar thrill down his spine, he kept going, trying to look as if this street were only part of a tiresome drive and meant nothing to him whatsoever. Against a lamp-post leaned two brawny specimens without jackets or scarves. Nearby four more were shoring a wall. Six were gossiping around an ancient, decrepit truck parked right opposite the house in which his room was at top. Three more were in the doorway of the house. Every one of these gave him the long, hard look as he rolled by with an air of total indifference.
The entire street was staked, though it didn’t look as if they had a detailed description of him. He could be wrong in this belief, perhaps fooled by an over-active imagination. But his instinct told him that the street was covered from end to end, that his only chance of escape lay in driving on non-stop and displaying absolute lack of interest. He did not dare look at his house for evidence of a Radine-type explosion. Just that small touch of curiosity might have been enough to bring the whole lot into action.
Altogether he counted more than forty beefy strangers hanging around the road and doing their best to look shiftless. As he neared the street’s end four of them came out of a doorway and walked to the kerb. Their attention was his way, their manner that of those about to stop him on general principles. Promptly he braked and pulled in near two others who were squatting on a doorstep. He lowered the window, stuck his head out. One of the sitters got to his feet, came toward him. “Pardon,” said Mowry, apologetically, “I was told first right and second left for Asako Road. It has got me here. I must have gone wrong somewhere.”
“Where were you told?”
“Outside the military barracks.”
“Some people don’t know one hand from the other,” opined this character. “It should have been first right, second left, turn right again after going through the archway.”
“Thanks. One can lose a lot of time in a city this size.”
“Yar, especially when dopes point with the wrong hand.”
The informant returned to his doorstep, sat down. He had not nursed even a dim suspicion.
Evidently they were not on the watch for someone easily recognisable, or, at any rate, not for somebody who looked exactly like Colonel Halopti. Could be that they were in ambush for another badly wanted specimen who happened to live in this street. But he dared not put the matter to the test by returning to the house and going up to his room. If wrong, he would be finally and conclusively wrong to the last choke of breath.
Ahead, the four who’d waited at the kerb had now resumed their leaning against the wall, lulled by Mowry’s open conversation with their fellows. They ignored him as he drove past. Turning right, he thankfully speeded up. However, he did not congratulate himself. He had still a good way to go and the entire city had become one gigantic trap.
When nearing the city’s outskirts a patrol-car waved him down. For a couple of seconds he debated whether to obey or try outrace it. He decided in favour of the former. Bluff had worked before, might do so again. Besides, to run for it would be a complete giveaway and every cruizer in the area would take up the chase. So he braked and hoped for the best. The car drew alongside, the co-driver dropped his window.
“Where are you heading for?”
“Palmare,” answered Mowry, naming a village twenty den south of Pertane.
“That’s what you think. Don’t you listen to the news?”
“I haven’t heard it since early this morning. Been too busy even to get a square meal. What’s happened?”
“All exits barred. Nobody allowed out the city except with a permit from the military. You’d better go back and get yourself informed. Or buy an evening paper.”
The window went up, the patrol-car whined into top speed. Mowry watched it go with mixed emotions. Yet again he was sharing all the sensations of a hunted animal. Nobody could stop him or even show undue interest in him without giving him a nervy this-is-it feeling. If it kept up long enough a time must inevitably come when this would be it.
He stooged around in the car until he found a news-stand carrying the latest editions still damp from the press. Then he parked a few minutes while he scanned the headlines. They were big enough and likely to give the readership a few unpleasant jolts.
PERTANE UNDER MARTIAL LAW
TRAVEL BAN—MAYOR DECLARES POPULATION WILL STAND FIRM
DRASTIC ACTION AGAINST DIRAC ANGESTUN GESEPT
POLICE ON TRAIL OF MAIL BOMBERS
TWO KILLED, TWO CAPTURED IN DARING JAIL-BREAK
Rapidly he read the brief report under the last heading. Lathin’s body had been found and the Kaitempi had grabbed the credit for the kill. That made Skriva something of a prophet. Dopey had been shot to death, Brank and the other had been taken alive. These two survivors already had confessed to membership of a revolutionary force. There was no mention of any others having got away. and not a single word about the mock Colonel Halopti.
Probably authority had clamped down on some items in the hope of giving the escapees a sense of false security. Well, he’d better not fall into that trap; from now on he must not show his documents to any cop or Kaitempi agent. Neither could he substitute any other papers. The only ones near to hand were locked in his case and surrounded by a horde of agents: The only others were in the forest cave with a ring of troops between here and there.
A ring of troops? Yes, that could be the weak point that he might break through if he put a move on. It was highly likely that the numerically strong armed forces were not yet as well-primed as were the police and Kaitempi. And the average trooper is not inclined to argue with a colonel, even one in plain clothes. The chance of being cross-examined and bullied came only from an individual of equal or higher rank. He could not imagine any colonels or major-generals manning the road-blocks. Anyone outranking a junior lieutenant was more likely to be warming an office chair or boozing and boasting in the nearest zith-parlour. At once he decided that here lay his best opportunity to break out of the net. It wasn’t a decision difficult to reach. He’d little choice about the matter. He must find freedom in the open country or remain in the city until caught.
About sixty routes radiated from the perimeter of Pertane. The main ones—such as the wide, well-used roads to Shugruma and Radine—were likely to be more heavily guarded than the secondary roads or potholed lanes leading to villages or isolated factories. It was also possible that the biggest, most important road-blocks would have a few police or agents in company with the troops.
Many of the lesser and sneakier outlets were quite unknown to him; a random choice might take him out of the frying-pan and into the fire. But not far away lay a little-used side road to Palmare with which he was familiar. It twisted and wound in direction more or less parallel with the big main road but it got there just the same. Once on it he could not get off it for another forty den. He’d have to continue all the way to Palmare, turn there onto a rutted cross-country lane that would take him to the Valapan road. At that point he’d be about half an hour’s drive from where he usually entered the forest.