“Why?” Movius bit off the word.
O’Brien’s voice sounded old and tired. “Quilliam had his eyes on the post of Coordinator. It’s…”
“You mean he’d…”
“It’s a complicated thing,” said O’Brien. “Briefly, though, it’s like this: he wants the power so he can revenge himself on the ones who killed his wife. Basically, he hates the LPs, blames them for what happened. I think he’s a sick man and dangerous.”
“A fine time to tell me,” said Movius.
“I’m sorry,” said O’Brien and sounded it. “I’ve known Quilliam so long and seen him so often, it just never got through to me what was driving him until his own actions made it imperative.”
“This is awkward,” said Movius.
“You mean because of Grace?”
“Of course that’s what I mean!”
“I’ve put a special guard around your apartment. That’s the best I can do. Get Cecelia out of there some way so she isn’t recognized. We need her right where she is with Glass.”
“The guard may help,” said Movius. “Gerard’s men are like a sieve. Janus comes and goes through them at will.”
“My men know how to recognize Quilliam.”
“Right.” Movius put the phone on its hook, returned to the living room. “Your father is out to kill me.” Grace sat down in a chair, turned her face away. “O’Brien has a guard on the building which may or may not be enough. We’re getting out of here tonight anyway.”
“If I could just go to him,” murmured Grace. “I’m sure I could explain.” She spoke as though she were talking to herself.
“O’Brien says he won’t listen to reason.”
“I didn’t know,” said Cecelia. “I’m kind of out of touch with things where I am. I’ve always taken orders either from Mr. O’Brien or Mr. London. He just called… I didn’t know.”
“Never mind,” said Movius. “What’s done is done.” He thrust his hands deeply into his pockets, glared at the floor. “Cecie, I apologize. Revenge is no good; it doesn’t matter whose revenge.”
She gave a shaky laugh, spoke in a voice totally unlike the tones which once had been familiar. “I asked for it. You just surprised me. The Dan Movius I knew wouldn’t have done that.” Her voice gained strength; the silky tones reappeared. “He’d have come groveling after me.” Cecelia turned to Grace, gave a flippant salute. “I think you have yourself a man, honey. Keep him occupied or I may come back on my own time.” She started to leave.
“Just a minute,” said Movius. “O’Brien wants you out of here without being recognized. I’ll have to lead you through the conduit tunnel.”
“We’ll both lead you,” said Grace.
“Never mind, dears,” said Cecelia. “This won’t be the first time I’ve crawled out the back way. I suppose it opens into the boiler room as usual.”
Movius nodded.
“Thank Roper for standard construction,” she said and left them, closing the door softly behind her.
Grace turned toward him. “Well?” An ominous note.
Movius avoided her eyes, went to a chair by the terrace windows.
Grace followed him. “I deserve some sort of explanation.”
“I lost my temper.” His voice was gruff, curt.
“That’s what she said. What were you going to do, attack her in the elevator?”
“I said I was sorry. I apologized.”
Grace sat on the arm of his chair. “When you lived next door to her down the hill, did you…”
“Good Gallup, no!” In a lower tone: “Why do you think I lost my temper? It was all that stored up frustration.”
“Oh, so you wanted to!” Petulance ruled her voice. “I suppose you’ve had lots of women.”
Movius jerked up out of the chair, whirled on her. “I’m twenty-nine-years-old, Grace. I’ve been a damned fool at least once every year of my life. I happen to love you and that’s different. Let’s drop the other thing, shall we? That’s the past.”
Her expression softened. “I’m just being female. But Cecelia Lang makes me jealous.”
“Of course she does. I was engaged to her once. You know all about the job she did on me, keeping me in cold storage for O’Brien, making her little reports.”
Grace came to him, put her arms around his waist, her head against his chest. “I won’t be jealous any…” She broke off, pushed away. “I let this petty jealousy push the other thing right out of my mind.”
“Your father.”
“He can be terrible when he’s angry.” She put her hand to a cheek. It reminded Movius of someone feeling a bruise. “He’s so cold, like a god sitting in judgment.”
“Pure intellect,” said Movius. “It loses touch with the world sooner or later.”
“I’m going to find him. I’ve got to.” She turned away.
“No, you’re not.” He moved up behind her, took her shoulders.
“I am. It’s the only way.”
“Damn it, I won’t let you!”
“You’re not going to stop me!”
Movius chuckled; the chuckle became laughter. “We sound like a couple of children, darling.” He turned her around, took her in his arms.
“It’s just that I’m so afraid for you,” she whispered.
“I’ll have him picked up tomorrow,” said Movius. “Then you can talk to him.”
“Who’ll pick him up?”
“Janus can do it if anyone can.”
In the end he had to kiss her more than a dozen times before she’d agree to wait.
Chapter 25
It was always dusk in The Coor’s office, a sort of refined gloom. Light was absorbed by the dark paneling, the dark rug, the thick draperies. Now the dusk inside matched that outside.
“We finally have a line on him,” said Addington. He took off his thick glasses, giving his face the appearance of a slab of red meat with two holes in the top and a wide slit in the bottom. “His wife was seen going into the Bu-Psych Building today.” Addington polished the glasses as he spoke, returned them to his face. Again he was the owl. “She was disguised, but one of our men—Curren—spotted her from seeing her out in the Roper Road Warren the day Movius was low-opped.”
“The day Movius was what?” asked Glass, staring down from his position leaning back against his desk.
“Let’s not play games among ourselves,” said Addington. He found a white lozenge in a pocket, popped it into his mouth, squirmed into a more comfortable position on the leather couch.
Glass pushed himself away from the desk, pointed a finger at Addington. “Nate O’Brien! He’s been talking crisis for years. Do you suppose he could be manufacturing a crisis of his own?”
“Pick him up and ask him,” said Addington.
The Coor shook his head. “I’m beginning to see it. O’Brien and Gerard together and Roper knows what other departments; but those two are doing the thinking. No wonder Gerard is so bold.”
“Where does Movius fit into this?” Addington swallowed the lozenge, fumbled in his pocket for another.
“I wish I knew. I’m tempted to raid his apartment.”
Addington paled. “That’d mean open war. Maybe that’s what they want.”
Glass showed his teeth in a superior smile. “You’re afraid I’d send you against that Army Gerard keeps on the building. Well, aren’t you, owl guts?”
Addington flushed. “Great Gallup! Don’t you start calling me that too.”
“Why didn’t you pick up the Movius woman when you’d spotted her?” demanded Glass.
“They took her home by copter, same way they’ve been moving Movius around.”
“How many men would we need to crack that apartment?” asked Glass.
Addington shook his head. “I don’t know. And anyway, I don’t think Movius and his wife are there anymore. Gerard threw two extra crews of guards around the building yesterday, hauled off half of them today. Bu-Trans copters made half a dozen trips from the apartment to the Bu-Psych Building. I think they’re holed up with O’Brien.”