“Uncle Lou, I’m afraid,” George whispered.
“How many of them are there?” Lou asked Ramo.
“Twelve.”
Big George pushed off his chair and shambled over to stand beside Lou, so close that Lou could feel the warmth from his great hairy body. George was terrified. But the marshals don’t know how timid he really is. They might shoot as soon as they see him.
“Is the door to the courtyard locked?”
“Yes,” Ramo answered. “All the doors are.”
There were footsteps in the hall now; Lou could hear them. He turned to George, snuffling fearfully beside him.
“Can you knock that door open, Georgy?”
“I can try, Uncle Lou.”
Lou patted his massive shoulder. “Come on, quick.”
George scampered toward the door, accidentally knocking a chair clattering out of his way. From out in the hall a voice called:
“Hey… hear that? In here, quick, unlock it!”
George was loping across the floor in full stride now, knuckles and big splayed feet slapping the tiles. Lou had to run to keep up with him. George didn’t stop or even slow down at the door. He simply crashed right through, his bulk and speed tearing the lock right apart and knocking both doors off their hinges with a blood-freezing shriek of ripping metal.
Lou was right behind him in the sudden glare of the sunshine.
“George… this way!”
Now Lou took the lead, through the courtyard and out the access tunnel toward the back lot. Stopping, he pointed to the stand of trees off behind the parking area.
“You…get back…to your pen,” he panted. “Safest place… for you. They won’t bother you… in there.”
“But Uncle Lou, I want to go with you,” George argued hoarsely. “All the nice people went away. These new people scare me.”
Lou took a deep breath and said, “They won’t hurt you. And you can’t come with me right now. But I’ll come back for you.”
“When?”
Lou could hear shouts out in the courtyard.
“As soon as I can, Georgy.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now get back to your pen and be a good boy. And don’t be afraid, they won’t hurt you.”
With a troubled look, the gorilla moved off toward the trees.
Lou sprinted for the parked cars. The lab’s electric wagons were lined up in the first row, and Lou knew their ignition locks were keyed to a simple voice code. He slid in behind the wheel of the first one in line.
“DNA-RNA,” he said as he pressed the starter switch.
The electric motor hummed to life. Never be able to outrun turbocars in this thing, Lou told himself. A man in a gray business suit ran out onto the parking lot. He had a gun in his hand. Lou grabbed the steering wheel, kicked off the brakes, and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The wagon lurched feebly, than started to gain momentum. Lou drove straight at the man. He jumped away and fired. Lou swung the wagon away and then cut back for the access tunnel, dived through its shadow, raced through the courtyard and past another handful of jumping, shouting men, into the front tunnel and out past the main lobby.
The front gate was rolling shut, but Lou knifed the wagon through it and sped down the highway in the curiously quiet acceleration of the electric motor. He picked up the car radio microphone and called:
“Ramo, this is Lou Christopher. Over.”
“I recognize your voice pattern, Lou. Over.”
“Basic program zero, Ramo. Suspend all housekeeping functions until further notice. Maintenance and repair mode only. Execute. Over.”
“Executed. Over.”
Lou grinned as he raced down the highway, one hand on the wheel. “Very good, Ramo. Now suspend all communications until my voice pattern orders resumption. Understood? Over.”
“Understood and prepared to execute,” Ramo said tonelessly. But somehow Lou felt the computer didn’t like to shut itself off.
“Execute. Over.”
No answer. The computer was completely shut down. All the doors that were locked would remain locked until some of the Institute maintenance men could be brought in to open them manually. The front gate would stay locked too, and it was strong enough to keep the police cars inside even if they tried ramming it. All the lights, the air conditioning, everything, was off. Have a pleasant day! Lou thought grimly.
He eased off the accelerator and coasted down the highway at the legal maximum speed. No sense getting picked up by a traffic patrol. His insides were fluttering, now that he had enough time to think.
How long can I keep running? Where to now? Not my apartment. Ramo said everybody on the scientific staff was arrested. Did they lake Bonnie, too? And why. why, for God’s sake? What’s going on?
He shook his head. It was like a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. Police don’t just march into a lab and arrest everybody. That was something out of the Dark Ages. People have rights, there are laws—
And then he remembered New York, and realized that in some places the Dark Ages still existed.
As he drove toward town, Lou switched on the radio and dialed to the police frequency. Plenty of chatter, but nothing about the Institute or himself. Why not? Why aren’t they calling for help? Or at least spreading an alert to pick me up?
As if in answer, Lou saw a highway patrol Cruiser gliding up behind him on the outside lane. He knew that the electric wagon could never outspeed a cruiser; the turbine-driven police car could even lift itself off the ground and literally fly on an air cushion for short distances, doing several hundred knots. But the cruiser zipped right past him, and the two white-helmeted officers in it never even looked at him.
Maybe the police aren’t after me, Lou said to himself.
Another part of his mind answered, Somebody is.
But not the police. Then who are they?
A few minutes later he found m’mself driving past Bonnie’s apartment building. Got to stop someplace. Got to have some time to figure this out. Even is she’s been picked up; I can still use her apartment. And if she’s free, I can find out what’s going on from her.
He drove the wagon halfway across town, parked it in a public garage, and then took a cab back to Bonnie’s. He gave the cab another false name and credit number. In the lobby of the apartment building, he told the door-computer:
“I’m a friend of Miss Sterne’s, apartment 27-T.”
“Name, please,” the computer’s flat voice replied.
“Roy Kendall,” Lou lied, naming a mutual friend who lived in Denver.
“Miss Sterne is not in at present. I am not programmed to admit anyone.”
“Miss Sterne has left special instructions under Code V for visitors.”
The computer hummed to itself for a second. Then, “Mr. Kendall, you may be admitted.” The door clicked open. Lou stepped through and went to the elevator.
He had to go through the same routine with the lock computer at Bonnie’s door, but here the code symbol was SF for special friends. Finally, the door popped open and Lou stepped into Bonnie’s apartment.
Shutting the door carefully behind him, Lou looked over the single room. Nothing seemed disturbed or moved. The closet next to the foldaway bed was open, and there were some clothes draped on a chair in front of it. Lou poked into the kitchenette alcove and found a pot of coffee still plugged in and warm. Bonnie was here this morning. Or at least, somebody was here.
He took a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and downed half of it. He was just putting it back when the front door opened.
Bonnie stood in the doorway, open-mouthed with surprise.